The Painting

The trees hung bare, their lonely branches reaching out towards the ominous moon. A cool wind storms past me, leaving me off balance. I look up at the moon longing for something, but not knowing what, perhaps for the absence of my grievous state that makes me walk alone on this dark night. I wandered down a small path, the fog surrounding me made it impossible to see where I was going, but my melancholy state made me drag on. The perpetual path stretched far beyond one's sight. A weakness crawled over me making me stop and rest along an old prodigious oak tree, its branches the color of burnt coal,  and its hands fighting with each other. I sat my back against its bark feeling enclosed amidst the cool forest fog. I lay in my desponding state, the prior events escaping my mind leaving me lost. My idleness made me begin staring blankly into unknown space. Not once did I question my whereabouts’ till I felt a cool drop of water fall from the grey clouds above. Suddenly more and more rain drops began falling on me. In a panic I looked around anxiously for some sign that could give me shelter. During my frantic searching I saw up ahead a dark house, its image was hazy, hence all the mist covering my view. I did not know if I trusted my eyes but it seemed prudent, as it was my only option. Although the house gave me an eerie uneasy feel, the idea of shelter and warmth induced me to hurry. I trudged through the muddy grounds following a foggy light where I assumed the dark house stood. My walking turned to running. Faster and faster I went, the feeling of being chased gave me more speed and adrenaline. Lightning crashed, the thundering noise chilling my spine. I only stopped once when an unseen branch fell before me. I flew forward, my leg caught in its entangled thorny vines and branches. The splintered wood maiming me as it pierced my skin. Another crash of lightning alerted me to get up. I limped only a few feet, when I reached the entrance of what looked to be an abandoned home. I banged on the door with such urgency that I did not need to knock again for the door flew open. 

A man stood tall looking very eminent in his old fashioned attire. He looked at me with a stern, emotionless face, but in his eyes I could see his sense of fear. His gaze shifted up and down me, I could certainly tell he was judging my raggedy appearance for he stood even taller to express his vanity. The repulsed gaze he gave made me look down upon myself as I saw the red streams of blood going down my leg. I realized it must've been from my fall, the rain on me fading its color. My dirty appearance made me feel a sense of embarrassment and insecurity. 

He spoke in a very low voice, his tone was chilling, and without a question of who I was he simply said,

“Would you like to come in?”

At first I was hesitant to enter, but I did not want to stay out in the cold, and desperately needed to procure treatment for my wound. I slowly entered the threshold; the interior of the house was much larger and more beautiful than the outside. In the main hall a dainty chandelier hung above, I stood in admiration at the entire home, its old fashioned feel created a mysterious affect, yet the large marble staircase flowing from the unknown, upstairs wings to the gorgeous luminous open ballroom floor displayed such a gorgeous atmosphere. 

The old man at the door, who I assumed was the butler, motioned for me to follow, his stern voice spoke, “you can wait in the library.” His skeleton-like hand pointed towards a dark stained door. I turned the golden door knob and it creaked open, my vision was filled with the sight of books sitting upon old shelves, with such intricate detail carved into what seemed like gold lining. I glided my fingers over the dusted books, revealing a vibrant color to their spine. I enumerated each title as I passed them by. Upon my exploring I came across a door hidden in the corner, curiosity filled my mind; I carefully went to approach the door when a voice shouted, “Please do not touch that!” I immediately turned, feeling guilty; “sorry” was my weak response. The butler stood in the doorway and changing his tone he replied, “The master welcomes you to dinner in the dining room.” 

I walked out of the library, following the skeletal looking man. 

“So, what’s behind that door?” my curiosity outweighed my manners.

“I am not allowed to say. And even if I did, I highly doubt you would understand,” was the butler’s response. 

He slowly digressed from the topic as we neared the dining room. I entered the large space and my eyes immediately scanned the massive table and saw tons of beautiful meals perfectly placed on delicate china dishes. It was then that I noticed my lack of sustenance. At the end of the long table was a man, whose face I could not distinctly make out due to the lighting's dark shadows. I sat down and was startled by the butler slamming the doors shut. I felt very out of place. The mysterious man at the end of the table sat so properly, his style was similar to that of the butlers, as if they were stuck in time. I tried to emulate the man to at least attempt to seem less out of place and more humane looking. I wanted to devour the glorious cuisines laid before me but my temperance restrained me from doing so. I only began eating when I saw the man at the end of the table move his fork to harpoon the large plate of meat that sat before him.

The dinner was full of silence and an awkward feeling filled the mood as I glutted myself with the food that lay in front of me. Once we finished eating, the butler came as if he somehow sensed we had finished and cleared the delicate, seamlessly clean dishes away. I looked around trying to avoid eye contact with the shadowy figure. When suddenly his voice cut through the silence,

“You may stay here till the storm passes, down the hallway and up the stairs, the second door on your left, you can go in and clean yourself up. You can explore around if you must, I know you have a curious mind. But I will not be liable for anything that happens to you, agreed?”

“Yes sir” I spoke humbly.

Eger to bandage my wound I slowly exited the dining room and followed the directions of my unknown host.  The second door was a faded hue; I entered cautiously for I knew not what lied beyond the other side. Within was what looked to be a large bedroom.  The floor was a dark wood that stopped after a few feet fading to a blood red velvet carpet.  Upon entering I noticed another door to my right, of course I immediately made my way over and it opened. Behind the door was a large bathroom with white marble floors and a small crystal chandelier hung above reflecting beams of bright light throughout the room.  I turned to see a large mirror outlined in an intricate silver frame.  I stared at myself in such horror at my appearance and embarrassment filled my head with the thought of people seeing me like this.  I ran my hands under the large metallic sink, its water the absolute perfect temperature.  I watched as the mud from my hands vanished.  I looked down at my leg and found bandages located on the far side of the counter. I took a cloth, wetted it, and washed away the blood and dirt until only a throbbing, red scar was left. Then I continued to bandage my wound to prevent further bleeding.  Unfortunately I could not replace my tattered clothes, but at least I looked a little more presentable. 

 I left the large room and returned to the hall, looking at the withered doors and their gold trimming. I was very wary and fearful to enter any rooms after hearing the master's warning. I thought to return back to the library, it was the only room I somewhat knew and I was tired from walking. I entered the large library still in awe of its beautifully decorated interior, its masses of books and its warming fireplace.  I sat down upon the inviting red sofa directly in front of the flickering flames. The impressive gold and red needlepoint pattern covering the sofa was exquisite.  I stared upon the fire, its heat melting away my icy chill.  I looked up on the large stone mantle, old photographs lined the top.  They intrigued me, some were family portraits, others singular people.  I came across one picture of a man possibly from the 1900’s, his outline seemed to match that of the mysterious owner but I was not certain.  Of all the photos I looked at none intrigued me more than the painting displayed above the mantle.  Its image confused me; I stared at it for a while before realizing it was a depiction of the very room I was in.  I marveled at the intricate detail of the painting, trying to figure out what was off about it, for something was not quite right.  My constant starring was interrupted by whispering in the hall, disrupting the quiet silence. 

“Sir, it’s almost midnight, what are we going to do?” a voice whispered.

“Nothing. I’m sure nothing bad will happen to our guest and we don’t want to cause a panic.” Another voice replied.

Then the two people walked away, their conversation left me nervous so I went back to the warmth of the fire. I returned my attention back to the painting, I then looked around the room then back again and I realized that in the painting there was no door in the corner. The situation was perplexing, but I had nothing else to do so I walked to the door that I was warned not to touch.

 I slowly turned the sculpted door knob. Its shape was strange, unlike any other door knob I’d seen. It resembled that of a figure eight, which only intrigued me more. I heard a click and was surprised that the door was unlocked. I gently opened it and as I went to step through I was startled by the sound of the clock chiming on the mantle, but my nervousness left quickly and I continued to walk through the door. Once I was in the room I was confused and astonished to see that the adjoining room was exactly the same as the one I just exited. I walked through towards the fireplace. Everything was the same. I checked the clock it read 12, yet something was wrong. I looked around and the door had vanished, I thought I was losing my mind but the door I entered from was no longer there. Instead it was replaced with a large bookshelf. I began to worry as I realized there was no door anywhere. Then suddenly I faced the farthest wall, the one directly opposite of the fireplace, it resembled the library but a different view, as if I were viewing it from on top of the mantel. And then suddenly my confusion turned to dread, it made no sense, the entire situation was impossible, but as strange as it seemed I was certain I knew exactly where I was.