Lanchester and Benson

Diane Lanchester stands at the foot of an imposing, red brick building, observing the details of the structure while she waits for a fellow employee to show her where she will work. It’s a sunny day and she is not on edge, and so she stands there waiting, raven-black tresses floating amongst the light breeze of an early April afternoon. It’s 2024. 

There’s a strange familiarity in the building, though she’s never been here in her life- deja vu, she would call it, though she has never felt it before. It’s almost tinged with dread, but she pushes that aside impatiently- as if. This job will brighten her life, will fill it with purpose. She continues to observe the building.

She notices ivy-like thin trails of dark green paint, sneaking among the cracks of some of the mahogany blocks, its presence obvious in the shadows yet dissipating in the bright sunlight. 

She sees the orderly fashion in which the windows are decorated, with the glass panes framed with blue silk and curtains drawn neatly, avoidant of any fringes or decorations. 

She notes the enormous golden letters that spill across the front of the building, where she has recently been offered a high paying job that she believes is worth her time- The Parker Corporation, where she will spend her days marking and filing papers for the company and receiving a large paycheck for her time. 

Diane is quite hopeful that this job will turn out just as she has hoped it will- she’s been hoping for a place with the Parker Corporation’s reputation to hire her for practically her entire career. Her life lies in the safety of that old red building, and she’s ready to pursue it. Just as this thought runs through her head a tall, sallow man pushes the grand oak doors open, and she waves in a friendly manner towards him. Sure enough, a smile creases his features and he heads towards her, salt and pepper locks tousled in the wind. 

“You must be Ms. Diane Lanchester,” he says warmly, extending a hand, and they shake hands firmly-his grip is warm and slightly calloused. 

“Yes, yes, I am,” she confirms. He seems professional and welcoming, a golden pin with the initials of the corporation pinned neatly onto his lapel, not a wrinkle or fold in the sleeves or body of his jacket. His blue tie is a very pretty shade of azure, almost the same as the sky that arches above them. 

“A warm greeting from all of us at Parker,” Michael replies cordially. “My name is Michael Benson, and I’m one of many employees in the company. I’ll be instructing you on your assigned job, as well as giving you a tour of the building.” At the sight of Diane’s interest, he smiles, eyes crinkling. She really quite likes him- he has a fatherly aura. 

“This building does have quite the past,” he muses. “It used to be a hotel, back in the early nineteenth century...but I suppose business couldn’t sustain the amount of care needed for the rooms, the grounds, and the pay for the employees that worked here.” 

Diane nods- after all, it’s very plausible that this grand building had once housed many, though in a very different manner and profession. 

He leads the way into the building, pushing the grand mahogany doors aside so that it leaves a clear path into the main foyer. She can’t help but gasp in absolute awe and incredulity. 

It’s enormous, the ceiling arching so high that she can’t see the end except for the telltale sparkle of the crystal chandelier set just below it. The sunlight enters the clear glass dome easily, bouncing off the ornate glass side tables and rosewood plush couches, set at intervals around the enormous room. 

A winding silver staircase leads upstairs, spiralling until she can’t see its end. Michael tells her that everyone uses the elevators, though, as the place is so huge and it’s much too difficult to access everything from the staircase. 

Something strange tugs at his expression when he states that, though, and she can tell there’s something more about the stairs that he will not (or does not want to) mention. 

She tries to shrug it off- after all, everyone has their secrets- but the stairs take such a large part of the foyer that it seems unconventional not to explain it. Trying to hide her discomfort at the avoidance of the topic, she questions how many staff work in the building. 

“Not many,” he replies, smiling slightly. “Perhaps over two hundred within this building, and even more working from home and in other, smaller businesses associated with us. About five hundred of us in total.” She nods. Not many, but she’s sure the work is valuable for the company and the pay indispensable for its employees. 

He leads her into an ornate elevator, its sides swirled with intricate designs and a large mirror at the back of the chamber, bending her reflection in its clean, flawless glass and returning it to her eyes. She looks excited, with an edge of fright- she tries to remove the fright from her expression, but she’s sure Michael won’t notice it. He’s looking the other way, any way, and as the bell, dings to signify their arrival he steps out quickly, patent leather shoes as shiny as if they had been polished just today. 

Michael introduces her to her small office, where she grows quickly accustomed. It’s nothing special, but all the materials she needs are there, and the broad leather chair and smooth, oak desk are clearly anything but inexpensive. Diane has a beautiful view of the scenery outside, though the silky blue curtains she saw earlier have come into play, disturbing her view of the gorgeous hillside that stretches as far as the eye can see- easily the best part of the office. He tells her she can pull them aside if she likes, but she prefers the privacy the blinds give her. She can sacrifice the view.

As Diane settles down and jots down the instructions Michael gives her (“take a sharp left and then two rights, and you’ll see the elevator- we’re on floor seven, so go down to the floor level to leave”), Michael leaves her to contemplate her surroundings. She doesn’t need to do any work today, so she might as well organize the area. But she’s tired, so tired, and before she knows it, sleep has consumed her and drawn her into its perilous haze.

Helena Lanchester checks into her hotel room, still in slight awe at her surroundings. She can’t quite believe how fancy the place is, especially for a newlywed woman who had lived in poverty for much of her life- it is the late 1940s, Chicago, and the economic recession is just beginning to loosen its hold on the fragile economy. Her husband is away for business affairs, and she has to take care of some issues of her own while he is gone. The employee at the oak desk nods to her and hands over a key, and she makes her way up the spiralling silver staircase. 

When she reaches her room, she is no less astounded. Plush pillows decorate every soft surface, the numerous couches and the king bed included. The canopy that decorates the bed bends softly downwards, creating a majestic effect- velvet lines the interior of the canopy.

 A lamp’s soft light quivers on the bedside table, perched on top of several well-known books of the time- expensive leather-bound ones at that. Helena is exhausted after her long journey and leaves her bag on a nearby plush sofa. After showering and dressing for bed, she drops, exhausted, onto the canopy bed, and sleep quickly overtakes any plans she had. 

Sometime in the night, she hears an intrusion, a loud noise. She’s too drowsy to feel fear but surprised enough that she stumbles into the hall, searching for the source of the loud bang that awakened her. Slipper-clad feet stumbling over one another, she reaches the spiral staircase, looking around herself, bewildered. 

Some mysterious force draws a knife and plunges it into Helena’s heart, and she twitches as she dies, eyes still wide and too shocked to feel any sort of pain. When the pain finally kicks in she’s almost gone, and her horror overtaking all her senses, she struggles. But the murderer remains nearby, and she knows there is no use. 

The knife is plunged so deep that it pins her to the stair she lies on, a fly smacked onto a wall. As she dies, the face of her murderer finally comes into view- a salt and pepper-haired man, whom she registers as her brother’s wife’s uncle- Robert Benson. 

Everything goes black, and Helena dies.