Into The Fold

“Did you hear it, Andrei?”

Andrei ignored Phillipe’s excitable demeanour. He was in a meloncholy mood. It was an anniversary of sorts but one that always made him feel so alone, one that was always deeply personal and there was not a soul here that shared this day. Each year he liked to spend the day in the wingback before the large fireplace, staring into the flames, wishing they could burn his sorrows away and yet, he was unable to gain any comfort from their warmth.

“Did you hear it?”

He wished he couldn’t hear his companion and, as Phillipe moved between him and the fire, he wished he didn’t have to see him either. The ridiculous frippery he wore was jarring enough on a good day let alone today. He contemplated kicking him into the fire but what good would that do him.

“Are you ignoring me?”

Andrei’s jaw twitched. “A failing attempt, it seems.”

“Did you hear it?” Phillipe asked again, not to be deterred.

“Hear what?”

“The magic box chimed again.”

“It chimes all the time, Phillipe. You should be used to it by now.”

“No, no, no.” Phillipe bounced on his toes, clapping like the overzealous man-child he was. “It’s the special one. We are going to have guests.”

Andrei stiffened. There was no deception on Phillipe’s face. Only a countenance of joy beamed at him. “When?”

“Tonight.”

Andrei was on his feet in an instant, pacing back and forth. “Does Patrick know?”

“He does. He is making preparations as we speak.”

“Damn,” he hissed.

Phillipe’s smile dropped, his entire body deflating. “I thought you would be happy.”

“Honestly?” Andrei turned to him in bewilderment. “How could you think that? I would not wish this place on anyone.”

Spreading his hands, Phillipe gave a little shrug. “We can do naught about it, Andrei. Patrick is the master of this house and we are merely his guests. I am simply attempting to make the best of the situation. Besides, it will give you someone to share your day with.”

“I would never be so selfish, Phillipe. As it is, this house has become crowded. Increasingly so since Patrick has opened it to interlopers.” Running his fingers through his hair, Andrei began to pace again. He wished there was something he could do, something to fix the situation he was stuck in, but he was powerless. “What of the others?”

“Oh, you know them.” Phillipe flopped down in the vacated wingback and walked his fingers across the worn leather arm. “Scurrying off to any room that Patrick isn’t in. They are little more than terrified mice hiding in the shadows. It’s impossible to have the briefest of conversations with them.”

“Is that why you insist on pestering me?”

“Do not be so ungrateful, Andrei. If it was not for me, then you would spend your days staring into the fire and moping. And, you forget,” the cheer drained from his face a little, an echo of his past haunting his eyes. “I have been in this house far longer than you and know the loneliness that can be found here.”

Before Andrei had a chance to respond, the doorbell boomed out, a deep resonant sound. A harbinger of things to come.

“They’re here,” Andrei stated, his lips pulling into a grim line.

“Shall we go see?”

He didn’t want to but with situations such as these, he couldn’t help himself. It was the odd fascination people had with watching a tragedy unfold, of peeking through parted fingers. It pulled at him, drawing him to the landing above the foyer to watch Patrick greet his new guests.

“Oh,” Phillipe breathed as he came to stand beside him. “A young couple. He looks so strong and isn’t she just darling.”

“She is indeed.” Andrei had never seen such a pretty girl. She was radiant in her bright yellow sundress, her smile glorious as she looked to the levels above her.

“This place is simply wonderful,” she beamed.

“Thank you, miss.” Patrick reached for the couple's bags. “It has been quite the effort to get the old girl up to snuff but your enjoyment makes it all worthwhile. Now, if you would please follow me.”

The trio climbed the stairs and disappeared down the hallway to the guest quarters to the sound of Patrick prattling on about the period features.

“I hate that man.”

Andrei grunted his agreement.

“What should we do now?”

“The same as always, Phillipe. We wait, though not for too long. The sun is almost down. Dinner will be soon.”

“Shall we go there now?”

“We may as well. Time will pass the same whether it is this room or another.”

Not wishing to be close to Patrick or his new guests, Phillip and Andrei settled themselves at the far end of the long dining table and, as Andrei surmised, dinner was not far off.

“Do you think it will be the same?” Phillipe whispered as the young couple seated themselves.

“Perhaps.” Andrei watched as Patrick began serving roast duck and glazed carrots. “Or perhaps he will do more. Lately he seems to be trying to outdo himself.”

They watched as the couple oohed and aahed over the delicious meal, complimenting Patrick on the fine spread as he poured their wine. Andrei was almost jealous but he knew what was coming. He saw the look in their eyes change as they realised something wasn’t right. 

“It has begun.” Phillipe’s hands worried at themselves. As the scene folded out before them, his upbeat demeanour evaporated completely, his silver lining crumbling to dust.

The man was the first to collapse, ungracefully falling into his half eaten plate of food. The young woman teetered on the edge of consciousness, her eyes wide and wild with fear, her body unresponsive though it was clear she was trying to move. 

“Ah,” Patrick crooned as he watched her struggle. “Good. You’re still awake. It takes quite a lot of trial and error to get you into this state.”

Patrick grabbed the steak knife from the young man’s hand and, in one fell swoop, plunged it into the back of his exposed skull. Phillipe gasped in shock while Andrei balled his fists. Damn his helplessness. He could not save them and the woman’s gurgled scream tore at his heart.

“I’m so glad you’ll be awake for this,” Patrick continued conversationally as he pulled her from her seat and carried her off towards the cellar.

“I’m not going down there.” Phillipe’s voice was strangled. Patrick had never killed them anywhere but in the cellar. Andrei had been right. Patrick was evolving.

“Nor I.”

“What happened?”

A new voice had joined their home, disorientated, as was usual. The young man’s spirit sat in the chair half sticking out of his own corpse.

“You died,” Andrei informed him bluntly. There was no point sugarcoating it. He would remember soon enough anyway.

“Where’s Melody?”

Andrei didn’t want to think about whatever ghastly thing Patrick was doing to her. The women always took the brunt of his degenerate ways. Unfortunately, when she remembered her death, the torture would not stop for her. She would see her killer everyday. A never ending loop that would haunt her until the day that he died. Andrei could only pray that when that bastard expired it wasn't on these grounds.

“She’ll be along soon enough, my friend,” he replied as the muffled screaming began.