Wow, these chapters are short chapters 3 4 and 5 are ~6,800 with annotations and headers.
Chapter 3
+1+
Clara.
I can remember my last day of freedom, The last time I was outside and seen more than the confines of the manor. The last time I was understandably free.
My father and I were at a stalemate over Henry Thorpe, and although I knew I should respect my father's wishes given all he had done for me; I stood firm against the marriage but agreed to spend a few rare occasions with Mr. Thorpe.
After school at St. Theresa's let out I reserved some time in the school's concert hall practicing my audition for the Hartman International Symphony. I hadn't told my parents about the audition, although not a rival the Hartman symphony was as far from my family's control as I could get.
The piece I was writing had to be an original and I had been at my wit’s end perfecting it.
Mr. Thorpe picked me up at 4:00 (as I was still without a car) and we drove around town for a while in his convertible. He was fifteen years my senior, his tan skin was too perfect but his smile was honest. He kept up a lively conversation. He was also a Rochester Alum and had chose music over his family business which is how he came to know my father.
Clara : Can I not drive ? Why can’t your female characters drive ?
LiLe : Um, you were in a car accident and went through the windshield. PTSDWe stopped for coffee, talking about our respective music careers. His clearly more extensive than mine, but he hailed me as more talented. I had to agree, it lead to a small ice breaker that made the rest of our "date" go by with ease.
I think originally here I had Clara get a frappaciuno, but change her mind because she didn’t want Mr. Thorpe to think she was acting young.
“Here we are”, he announced when we reached my parent's house
“Thank you”, I said unlocking the door.
“Perhaps I could come in ?”, he opened my door, “We could discuss the business of our marriage.”
Business
I sighed
“Mr. Thorpe. You are a nice man. . .
I was hoping you could make my father understand why I can’t marry you.”
“Why is that, we seem to get along well Clara.”
I laughed at his insistence.
"What about love ?", I asked him
Now he laughed
"Clara, there are billions of people out there. Many of them are married what are the chances they all love each other. Love is a developed emotion. We can love anyone."
“Well I don't believe that”, I stepped along the stairs idly, “More to the point, I’m in love with someone else.”
Oh, so she is in love with him.
“Really, Who ?”
“I can’t really say, He’s a very private person”
“So private he could be made up ?”
“Of course not”, I smiled. he really was persistent, “but this revelation doesn’t seem to deter you”
“Companionship Clara”, he answered, “being alone can drive a person insane. Companionship does that sound so terrible Clara.”
LiLe : That’s kind of like what Victor said about the Specters. I’m sure it’s irrelevant.
"Of course not"
"How about you let me take you to mass this Sunday ? That gives time for contemplation doesn't it ?", he added coquettishly
“That's fine, but I’m really feeling very ill. .. I’ll have to say good afternoon, Mr. Thorpe.”
“Of course course”, he often repeated his words. It was a personality quirk and something I picked up quickly.
Once I was safely inside he went back to his car and began speeding off.
Truthfully I had begun to fell echos of pain from my accident for weeks now. I had seen the car and pictures of the "scene" when I was released. Everyone was always telling me how lucky I was to be alive. I wanted to tell them they had not idea.
Since Mother and Father were still out, I decided to take a quick nap with a handful of Motrin. My childhood bedroom was just as I'd left it. A vintage floral wallpaper and a beige queen sized bed with a gold princess canopy. I had a desk for work that was cluttered with sheet music and my laptop.
I settled under my cover curling up with a pillow and a glass of warm milk.
I vividly remember listening to the stillness of the room and watching the way the sun reflected through the canopy, before falling asleep.
I was at home, where I was supposed to be safe.
Sometime before seven everything changed.
+++
Water was everywhere, I struggled beneath it to breathe before I came to the surface.
+2+
JC- Hurt
I opened my eyes to darkness.
I had grown accustomed to leaving a nightlight on just before dark, my first impression had been that the lights had gone out, but I knew something was wrong. I was still tired and my legs and arms all felt sore almost as if I had been dragged.
The ground beneath me was not my bed but a hard grain floor that was glossed smooth. My eyes began to adjust to the dark and in essence adjusted to nothing. My uneven breathe echoed against the empty walls.
Every wall and surface of the room was black, the drapes drawn over the windows and nailed to the floor. I sat in the corner with my knees pulled up, crying out of frustration and confusion.
My arms were sensitive to touch and although I couldn't see them I knew I was terribly bruised. Then realizing the aromatic scent flowing through the room,I listened to my surrounding and heard the gentle movements of water outside. Standing on my toes I reached up to the vent pulling off the grate and watching a cascade of frosted white andpink flowers fell onto the floor.
The manor on Chautauqua Lake
LiLe : Right, Mr. F puts flowers in the air vents. I mentioned this I think in LL at one point.
^ Nope turns out I mention it in that scrap short story.
I struggled to understand why Mr. Fierro had taken me. True, I had been rather hard on him lately, or had he misinterpreted my desperation to get out of marrying Mr. Thorpe ?
There had been pictures of our smiling family, long list of prices and articles that droned on about details of the wedding. Could that have sparked a bit of dangerous envy in him.
Whatever had taken place Mr. Fierro had never received his proper revenge from Grandpa. It was after all one of his main reasons for living. It was because of this that I never let him know how close Grandpa and I were. He didn't understand to hurt me was to hurt my family
See now the audience thinks M. F snapped and kidnapped her.
I realized I was barefoot and my clothes had been changed. The pajama pants and shirt I had been sleeping in had been traded for a black short sleeved sheath dress and stockings.
LiLe : Again with the no shoes
Also Clara's clothes have been changed by Lucie.
I was dressed for a funeral, hopefully not my own.
My legs were sore and I collapsed underneath them. In silence I questioned his motives for several minutes, the drugs I knew I had been given began to sedate me again and I fell into an uncomfortable slumber
+++
When I was awoken again I was still in the empty room, two candles were lit in the room now and for the first time I noticed the piano in the corner. The piano appeared large and out of place in the small room, it was used and in terrible condition. Much like myself.
Under the candle light I observed the ugly bruises on my arms, I blew out one of the candles to dim the appearance of them.
I began looking for a way out of the room, I shouted and pressed against the door but the room remained still, as if it was deserted.The only sign that I wasn’t complelty alone was the bowl of warm soup on the floor. It occurred to me that the soup was laced with drugs but I felt weak and didn't care.
“Addison ?", I called, “please let me go, please. . . I'm scared. Please talk to me”
I hit the door till my fist became raw and sensitive, tears I couldn't control were flowing. I threw myself at the door one last time, the rough grain grated against my bare arms.
Giving up I spent that second night (or it may have been day) digging and scraping at every surface. Maybe he had abandoned the house ? Or maybe there was a ransom.
I felt like I was falling into his strange delusions by playing the piano, but it calmed my nerves and frankly it was something to do.
I had fallen asleep after a while and when I awoke I was still in The Black Room.
LiLe : Not to be
confused with C. Gray’s Red Room. I named this room to clarify where Clara is kidnapped.
A four poster bed had completed the bedroom; I laid in it feeling weak , I had refused to eat if he was going to poison me. I knew Mrs. Beck was not allowed upstairs so she would never find me. Mr. Ciani was an elderly man he would never hear my pleas.
Who else would look for me here ?
In the candlelight I noticed a new burn mark on my wrist and began to grow concern that , that maybe soon I wouldn’t be alive anymore, if I was even still alive.
I think this comes back later.
Desperation it seemed had been the name of the game. My grandfather's desperation, pride and rage it seemed had lead him to murder and innocent man. Grandfather's selfishness, I considered,was how I found myself in The Black Room. I hated him for what he had done, that his beloved Clarabelle would suffer for him.
Maybe that is what this is all about, not love but hate. The hate we grin and bear for those we love.
+++
It went on like this day after day, I began to lose my mind and played the piano to starve my anxiety. As I started to play the more I began to realize that, I was always drowsy after half and hour. Not once could I make it through an hour long piece.
One day (or night) I was able to catch a glimpse of brown wing tip shoes by the door jam, it confirmed that I was in fact not alone. I made a ruckus.
“I can see you”, I yelled”, Let me out, please.” my palms slammed against the door, it did little but shake on the hinges. I threw my entire body against the door but it hindered more than helped.
In those days I feared for my life everyday, wondering when I was going to come face to face with the end of a gun, an axe or knife of a madman
I had been trapped in the house for only two weeks when I awoke to a local paper sitting underneath the bowl of lukewarm soup.
My picture was on the front page, the words ‘MISSING’ bolded underneath. I brought the candle closer and skimmed over the fine print. Mr. Thorpe was quoted as the last person to see me alive, he apparently wasn’t a suspect, but my case was being handled as a private manner.
There was no foul play, no crime scene, no ransom note.
As far as anyone knew Clara DeLune had simply disappeared.
Chapter 4
BACK TO THE PRESENT
Present, December 18th
Joshua felt proud of himself.
After he had left the strange man in the silver car, he walked with is head down and cap over his eyes back towards the large house. He kept his eyes on his feet as he retraced his steps.
It was getting warmer and he knew Mrs.Boggs, the caretaker, would be looking for him, but she wouldn’t go out in this weather. No one would.
The large house still stood in the clearing. The gate still swung open on it’s hinges, inviting Joshua to come farther, his used Doc Martens sinking into the grass and mud. Not paying attention to the massive headstone in the front yard. He hopped onto the walkway and stood at the front door.
The view of the lake had been grown over by trees and moss.Joshua reached for the cast iron door knocker shaped like a rose.
The door swung open on its own.
Joshua looked up as a woman stepped from behind the door, staring at the threshold as if in fear.
The woman motioned for him to come inside. She was too young to remind him of his mother, but an older sister or aunt maybe. She was pretty with dark hair that matched her dress. She had on a necklace with a single initial "C" on it.
He felt as if he had seen her before but didn’t give much thought to it.
“Won’t you stay a while”, the woman said, there were red marks over her wrist
“C-can I”, Joshua shivered under his wet skin.
The woman nodded and turned on the fireplace.
“He’ll be back soon”, she said handing him a blanket.
“Who ?”
The woman sat back on her ankles on the sofa, twirling the ring on her finger while looking out the window.
“My husband”, she said sadly.
You : OMG, they got
married ? How did she go from being kidnapped to marrying him?
Well, I know it wasn't obvious that the woman was supposed to be Clara so this was hit or miss.
Chapter 5
September
Mr. Fierro
+1+
I closed my eyes many times that night, yet I still found it hard to fall to sleep.
The digital clock clicked to 2:48 am.
See he noticed the clock was digital
The insomnia mixed with the need to sleep frustrated me more than I liked. The house was quiet, stilted due to the lack of electricity, just the silent hiss of the gas filtering through the kitchen. The last candle in the room blew out and I knew I had been awake far to long.
My thoughts drifted to the bottle of Louis XIII de Remy martin in the nightstand.
LiLe : You know I should have named Martin DeLune Remy. Is it to late to change it ?
As the night slowly progressed my thoughts became. The dusty cognac bottle was heave in my hand, I had never planned on opening it, yet there I was. Before I could allow a drop alcohol to sedate me I realized I was no longer alone.
The bottle slipped from my hands and crashed to the floor.
There was a figure in the doorway. The figure was petite, familiar and
welcomed. Still something perplexed me.
“M-Ms. DeLune ?”, I called to the figure
To my knowledge I had not seen or heard from her all day. Martin had made a work of himself keeping his daughter under his control. I had busied myself that day working and paying off unsavory people to further my identity.
I tried to recall if I had let her in, perhaps I had forgotten and my age was wearing on me more than I suspected ?
I blinked twice but she was still there . . . lying in my bed watching me.
Her eyes were dark and vacant, her hair clung in uneven strands to her face: she was dressed as if sleeping the clothes she wore showed wear and were covered in dirt, the flat shoes she was wearing were also caked in dirt and stained by murky water.
It had upset me and incited anger at her ignoring my privacy. I contained my anger and spoke to her.
“Speak to me”, I ordered her. I was hardly pleased with this at all.
Had I not locked the doors ?
Ms. DeLune did not respond or even blink as she continued to watch me, I waited for her to blink, just once, yet she never did.
“Clara ?”, I tried again, taking note of her worn shoes, “Did you walk here ?”
She sure did. Remember when her legs were sore in the last chapter.
Nothing.
I brought myself to eye level with her, I began to shake her but it was as if she was made of glass, finally I resorted to striking her across the face.
Clara : OMG. HE HIT ME
LiLe : Moving on
“Sweetheart”, she drawled and laughed, in an intoxicating voice.
I was aching for that nightcap now, I desperately hoped this was a delusion of my constant insomnia.
“Why did you call me that?”
“I’ve always called you that”
Either her lips were or were not moving I could not tell.
“Lucille” I recognized the tone of my dead wife quickly, “What have you done ?”
“You lied to me”, she said
I wanted to reach out and touch her, truly I had gone mad.
Although she had taken he body of her granddaughter, her movements appeared limited almost labored. I could no longer bring myself to touch her
Yes, her presence had been lacking as of late.
“How long ?”, I asked
“I had to wait till she fell asleep. I’m just so upset with , sweetheart. You made a commitment to me. She’s a child, my child I practically raised her.”, she expressed a but of anger.
“Lies-”
“No” she was volatile, “her goddamn flighty mother-“
Was to busy to raise her own children. The girls spent more time with me than they did their parents. Was what she was going to say.
I needed to get away. Nothing was adding up and logic and reason appeared foreign. I stumbled out of the room praying she would not be able to follow me. There were footprints on the floor and along the stairs.
Logic : No. It’s quite simple. You see Ghost!Lucie went all Posseion on your new girlfriend. Just like that you can be with Lucie again except with a young, shiner and
Clara : Sexier
Logic : er, I was going to say Corporeal form
LiLe : Corporeal !
Her labored steps followed me down the hall, I knew that If I left, I would abandon Ms. DeLune still I couldn't stop moving.
“Why torment her, Lucie ?”, I called back to her
“Torment her ? What about me”, she missteped and tumbled head over heels down the last 8 steps, I can still hear the sounds of her body violently hitting each step. She had bleed but it was the least of my concern.
“What is it you want ? Is it the house, the cars the money? What is it you truly want ?”
She had fallen at my feet and awkwardly pulled her self up.There was certainly something darker in Ms. De Lune's eyes. She pressed her palm to the side of my face. In a quiet voice almost a whisper she spoke to me.
“You. I want a second chance”.
I kissed her and felt the memory of my long lost Lucie, she laughed as I touched her lips something only Lucie would do. Her heart and mannerism all became real. To have her--some part of her in my arms felt like a true happy ending.
Clara : He kissed her ?
LiLe : This is why I’m on the Clara/Victor bandwagon
Suddenly Clara’s body was thrown on to the wooden floor, Lucie fought to keep control.
Enough time for me to regain my senses.
“Lucie, let her go”, I demanded
“No”, Lucie rose from the floor, “I’m the victim Addie. I always sacrificed. I sacrificed to give my son the life he deserved. I wasted my life watching Roger stray and comeback.. . “, she went off into an aside, “but he loved his little beautiful Clara, his protege. . . she alone could make him happy, made him realize he wanted a divorce.”
“Lucie, stop this”
“She’s done it again you know. You are all I ever wanted-- we were all each other wanted. . . I was a stupid girl then . You want to give up everything we have for a girl 52 years younger than you. Please. . don’t you want it all back ? Don't you love me ?"
I thought of those simple afternoons on Litany Lane when we had been husband and wife; Watching the sunset and the day fade away wrapped in the arms of the woman, Lucille, I loved. Blissfully contemplating spending eternity together.
Martin often commented on how his daughter had not been the same after the accident, she could be distant and quiet, always reading he would say. She was somewhat rebellious and constantly causing a strain on her father. A disgraceful daughter by his count.
Would they be surprised if she disappeared?
Logic : Why can’t
Lucie just live her life pretending to be Clara ?
LiLe : Yeah, I think having your son become your father is a little odd even for this crowd.
“This could be our second chance”, I could hear Lucie in each of her words.
I helped her off the floor and held both her hands in mine.
“You have to let her go, Lucille”, I said, "It's what is rational"
“I’m your wife, Addie. I was your best friend for years were going to be famil—“
“Yes, we were but you chose Roger”
“It was a stupid mistake I’m sorry, please sweetheart please try to understand”
One last day, I’d often prayed for one last day with Lucie but not like this. I will always believe Lucie deserved a second chance.
“Did you love Roger ?”
She took her bottom lip between her teeth like Lucie would often do.
I knew I couldn’t make Lucie let go, but without a body . . .
She can’t exist in coporeal form. He was going to say
I turned my back to her, resting my hands on a hall table and slowly opened a drawer
“I’m sorry Lucie”
Lucie needed her granddaughter's body, perfectly intact. Realizing what I intended to do she ran past me and out the door. I removed the knife from the drawer, grasping it’s silver handle and followed her into the night, she wouldn’t make it far.
It was one of the coldest nights I'll ever remember
I made out her tired form by the lake, With force I threw her down onto the ground, pinning her down.
I pressed the tip of the knife to her throat, just enough blood to drive Lucie out and preserve Ms. DeLune's life.
“Do it”, she threatened me, “You can’t kill me. .. you will only hurt her.”
He’s thinking if he wounds Clara, Lucie will leave her body.
“Lucie, damn it”
Partial sip ?
I dropped the knife and sat her up.
“It’s okay”, she said, “She was supposed to die.”
“So was I”, I told her.
I held her tightly in a false embrace and when she relaxed I pushed us into the cold lake. Lucie screamed and struggled to reach surface and avoid drowning. When she was able to surface I pushed her back under the murky water, listening to the sounds of her drowning. She struggled against me for a while until she didn’t resurface.
LiLe : BTW, Lucie can’t swim. So in order to preserve Clara’s body Lucie leaves so Clara can swim ashore.
13 seconds had gone by when there was a disturbance in the water, I watched as her body resurfaced, she swam to the land and pulled herself ashore, eyes blinded with mud and dirt, water spilling from her cold lips.
“How did I get here ?”, Ms. DeLune said between coughs.
She dragged herself further ashore, speaking incoherently, before falling unconscious.
+++
Every clock in the house had been stuck at 2:49 am.
1 minutes passed
I concentrated on the full length mirror infront of me, watching my hands awkwardly work their way in out of the silk tie in an uncomfortable haze.
I had laid Ms. DeLune down in the spare bedroom, after watching her sleep for several minutes I had showered and dressed. Afterward I ripped the sheets from my bed tossing them in the fireplace to burn later.
These two love to burn stuff.
I reorganized and cleaned the bedroom to my liking, except for the stench of cognac it was as if she and previous events had never been here.
Remy Martin isn’t congac. Is it.
Ms. DeLune was still lying in the spare room when I went to check on her. It was, by all standards, still early. I listened to the rise and fall of her breathe, I recall contemplating if she always looked this way in the morning.
“Ms. DeLune”, I ran a finger down her cheek, “Wake- up”
Her eyes blinked and she pushed my hand away turning back into sleep. There were bruises on her arm from where she had fallen down the stairs but they could be easily covered.
She sighed and turned over again, the back of her hand on mine
“I'm sorry, you can’t get rid of me that easily, Addie”
No, Lucie. You should have just kept pretending to be Clara for a little while.
“Lucie”, I recoiled from her
“Please please, sweetheart”, she was calm, “please just try to understand”
“Lucielle. . . how ?”
She sat up, pulling her legs underneath her.
“I didn’t think it could actually be done. There is a light in some people. . . it’s small and dim but Clara’s light. It shined so brightly it was so inviting. It took me a while, I had to wait until she was asleep. I can’t tell you how good this feels. To have a body to feel things”
Right, so in my mind the only people who Spectres can Posses are people who have died and comeback. I should have mentioned this.
“You—“
“I love you so much, Addie”
“I love you too Lucie but you made your choice, Clara has a life too”
LiLe : Wow, they sure do proclaim their love for each other a lot.
“Clara had a life. She was always supposed to die young”, she looked down, “Girls like Clara always do.”
“How can you be so cruel to your own grandchild.”
“I’m being far from cruel. It’s not right for her to have such feeling for you, when I know you don’t feel the same way. I'm protecting her”
“Are you so attuned to my feelings ?”
She continued to look down, a live wire of electricity in the air; the door closed behind me, I could hear the entire house close and lock.my pocket watch slowly stopped ticking.
“I’m attuned to many things”, she answered.
She stood up and walked to the hall mirror and studied her granddaughter's reflections, running her fingers through her hair.
“Clara was always such a pretty girl. If only she could tame this hair and her poor figure.”
Right so I wished I'd focused more on the physical differences between Clara and Lucie. Lucie was very traditionally thin while Clara was slightly curvier, So whenever Lucie dresses her she is always wearing boxy loose dresses.
She continued to scrutinize her granddaughter's appearance, while I contemplated what to do next. This was to my knowledge uncharted territory. A Spectre controlling a human was uncommon, but clearly not impossible.
LiLe : There is the other spelling.
“I’ll need some clothes.” she spoke as if she had just arrived into town, “I think, I may be here for a while.”
+++
Lucie's exploits to reclaim and explore the life she had been blind to began with good intentions.
Though it was 5 in the morning I sat on the opposite end of the dinning room table. Lucielle flipped through an old paper, not touching the warm cup of tea in front of her. I had called Mrs. Beck early sending her to town to pick up a few birthday gifts for Ms. DeLune with a credit card from Nemian Marcus.
Don’t know why Nemian Marcus gets a shout out.
Lucie made breakfast.
“Shouldn’t you eat, Lucille.”
“No”, she said not looking up, “I like watching you eat. It makes me feel like something I’ve done is helpful.”
“Everything you have done thus far has been a hindrance.”
“Everything I have done thus far has been for us.”
The table shook on its legs and fell over, each fragile place setting falling and shattering on the floor, staining the table cloth and floor with coffee and tea. Lucie crossed her legs and continued to flip through the paper laughing at something she had read.
“They will notice if she goes missing”, I told her.
“And we will take care of it when the time comes, why are you trying to take this away from me.”
“You may have been idiotic enough to let Roger pull you into his sins, but I will not comply.”
“I know you, Addie", She said, "You would never make this choice for yourself, so I will make it for you. We will make this work.”
I contemplated whether I would have made this choice.
Certainly there was some intrinsic value on a decade long relationship when
compared to a trite affair with a school teacher. What an unfortunate school
teacher at that.
Ms. DeLune would always be my means to an end.
+++
“Fierro Residence”, I heard Mrs. Beck answer the phone, “Just a minute”
I picked up the other line before she could call me.
“Yes”, I answered.
“This is Clair. .. Martin's wife.”
“Yes, Mrs. DeLune”
“Have you by chance seen Clara. She hasn’t been home all night and didn't show up for work. . . I'm worried”
Logic : Because Mrs. DeLune isn’t an idiot and knows where her daughter might be spending the night.
“No, I have not”
“Hm, oh well she left her phone here. . . if she calls.. . “
“Yes, I understand”
I hung up, not being able to bear a mother’s concern for her missing child. Although there was more than Mrs. DeLune would let on. Guilt perhaps ? Either way my lie left a bitter taste in my mouth, I left Ms. Beck to her cleaning and ventured to find Lucie upstairs.
She was no longer in the spare room but in another empty room in the west wing of the house, I had paid little attention to the room (or side of the house) in the past.
“Is she gone ?”, Lucie asked innocently, referring to Mrs. Beck.
“No, and if you aren’t careful to stay out of sight she will become suspicious”
“Fine, then I’ll wait for you in your bedroom”
“No you will not”, I pulled her back into the empty and shut the door, “stay here, please”
“What ever you say”, she mistook my words as growing affection
I considered my situation. Emile may know something about the situation, although I risked exposing him to Lucie’s terrors.
The day passed in a silent tension. Mrs. Beck worked around me, noting my lack of detail and concentration. I dismissed the woman at every turn.
When her day finally came to an end I paid her and waited till her car dissapered down the road before attempting my own escape. My oxfords slipped across the floor as I tried to reach the garage before Lucie realized my intent.
The garage mechanism refused to open, the doors hummed but stayed shut. The lights in the garage went off and I heard the door open.
“Where are you going”, she approached me in the darkness.
“I-I have to go into town”
“No you don’t. I get the feeling that you have forgotten the commitment we made to each other. It shouldn’t have to be this way.”
The lights came on.
I felt inexplicable drawn to her, she had changed into the clothes Mrs. Beck had purchased; a black dress with the tag still on, matching shoes and a hat to match. Her smile is brighter than Ms. DeLune’s.
I heard my footsteps echo as I followed her back into the house. Realizing that I was being lured by whatever control she had, I pulled away from her a dull ache forming behind my eyes, my vision burned white, by the time I could see again I had stumbled into my study
"I know you have a lot of work to do", she said from somewhere in the room.
I blinked and she was in front of me, a kitchen knife in hand.
I don’t remember writing this at all
"Why would you try to leave", she said holding the knife up to her neck, "You and I will always be one with or without Clara's. . . 'help'. If she can have a second chance why not me ? Besides It would be difficult to explain if they find the slit throat of a missing girl in your house. . . wouldn't it ? "
The knife danced along the bright clear skin, not dropping a hint of blood.
The doors locked and not another word was passed.
+++
Fear among other things kept me in line.
In a odd twist of irony Lucie would have done anything to persuade me to leave the farm 50 year previous now my leaving was her absolute fear.
Lucie refused to eat citing that she was far to superior for that, she refused sleep for fear that I would leave,therefore leaving the body she occupied to endure the wrath of her neglect.
Lucielle agreed to keep out of sight while Mrs. Beck worked but afterward insisted on playing my wife. Her stubbornness temper and wit is what had sealed our growing affections, something every man wanted to posses in a wife.
Okay, there is probably more to it than that
“An hour, Lucie be reasonable”
“No”, Lucie removed another painting from the wall of the upstairs west wing.
“Half, then”
“. . . fine, but only half”
“You have to let me speak to her”
“No”, she held up a few paint samples to the living room wall
Bitches be moving into your house and painting the walls.
Lucie took a break from her adherent remodeling for a smoke break. I watched the smoke pass through her lips and for a few minutes it could have easily been 1954. I hadn’t smoked for years but took in a cigarette in fear of idleness.
Wow, Clara doesn’t smoke. That’s kind of harsh Lucie.
Lucie had made herself up, her eyes were sharper and her lips were the color of a tyrian colored peony.
I let the smoldering end of the cigarette hover and touch her skin. Lucie, contemplating paint samples, didn’t even notice.
“Do you feel that ?”, I asked her
Remember than burn on Clara’s hand from earlier
“No, it’s not my body. . . why would I ?”, her voice was filled with sadness, she wanted to feel pain.
“So, she will feel it ?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
Music continued to play quietly over the sound system, we listened one of us enjoying the others company more.
“You said 30 minutes”, I reminded her, "now would be a good time to start."
“Fine”, she put out the cigarette, “But we have to do this my way.”
"What are you afraid of ?"
"I don't know what I fear but there is something to fear."
Lucie had seemingly set up two prisons for Clara to endure. The empty room in the west wing had been painted black, the windows had been sealed. The door bolted with three secure locks and a number lock.
Taking off her shoes Lucie stepped into the room, as instructed I locked the doors, pressing an ear to the door I couldn't hear anything. At some point Ms.DeLune dropped to the floor perhaps she cried but it was all speculation. I contiuned to listen, my hand reaching for something that was not there.
The exact second 30 minutes had passed the combination lock twisted and turned till the door open. Lucie stepped out relaxed, she could not look me in the eye.
The doors of the room, The Black Room, stood open
It was almost as if Ms. DeLune existed only in that space, she was little more than a ghost in passing now.
+2+
Afterward I found Lucie sitting in the backyard, kneeling in the grass watching the dark sky. We were probably the only ones alive who still remembered when this part of Chatuquana was a simple farming community. Where names were common knowledge, a real community in every sense of the word
“Lucille ?”
“You've changed", she said
"Time does that"
"Even when we were together on Litany Lane. . . you were still bitter."
Mr. F: Your husband strangled me to death in a barn with a chain after I found out that you cheated on me and had a family with him. You also helped him dispose of my body. Then when we meet again the Afterlife you leave me again. So yes I am bitter.
"Now you are being bitter"
"Fate has never been kind to us."
Technically : It was just you, Lucie
She wanted me to tell her that I understood, like I had forgiven her for marrying Roger. I wanted to be compassionate, I wanted to understand. "
“I feel old Lucie, I don't know if I could bear living another lifetime. It's very tedious”
"another lifetime", she laughed, "to think we could have another lifetime"
I came down to her level, draping my jacket over her shoulders. Summer had been quietly chased away replaced by the gentle autumn.
So I was supposed to have a flashback here.
Her hands worked their way to the side of my face, I felt as though she were speaking to me. She wanted to further her need to be human, and I would never have the power to stop her.
“I never forgot about you”, Lucie kissed me, “everytime I took Martin to the library I thought of you, he was so intelligent and I thought-I always h-hope—“
Hoped that there was a chance that he was your son but there was a paternity test so . . . Was what she was going to say.
I assured her that it was in the past, that nothing she could say now would remedy it. Perhaps I thought closure on Lucie's part would help her move on but there was no place for her to go.
This chapter is really long.
+++
I convinced Lucie to allow her granddaughter's prison a few luxuries limited to a bed and a piano that had been in the basement. Whenever Lucie allowed Ms. DeLune to become sentient her desperation to get out of the room became violent and loud
Lucie kept her reign tight on the household, she was by no means a tyrant but a tired woman—soul really who needed help. Perhaps I too quickly submitted to her will. She had been my wife what felt like just a year ago and those commitments don't die easily.
Actually it was a year ago.
After two weeks Clara DeLune began to appear in the papers.
She was romantically portrayed as a young missing heiress and prodigy who had gone missing. Her dissaperence was quoted as causing sympathy and heartache for her wealthy family and fiancee, among other things I would later find to be lies.
1. Her fiancec doesn’t care and is never mentioned again
2. Her family is losing money so they aren’t wealthy
+++
October 1st
Henry Thorpe and Martin DeLune appeared to be good friends in low spirits as they waited to be received in my office.
Mr. DeLune appeared out of sorts, his looks disheveled and unkept, from our last meeting he could have aged 100 years. I had previously been introduced to Mr. Thorpe but that was hardy the time for pleasantries.
“Mr. DeLune, Mr. Thorpe”, I greeted them, “What can I help you with ?”
“I don’t want to make much of this, Fierro”, started Martin, “It's just you are new in town and you are barley here a month and my little girl goes missing.”
“It’s a shameful coincidence. Is there anything I can do to help”
“I know you're a private man, I won't get the police involved if you won’t mind if we look around this house of yours”
“Be my guest”
I handed them the keys to every room, including The Black Room. As they were searching the rooms downstairs I went in search of Lucie in the glasshouse.
Withing walking distance of the house,the 2 acre glasshouse had been my only contribution to the property. It was custom built to my specifications and housed 184 different species of plants. I kept many of my flora, hybrids and distilleries locked in the glasshouse. the automatic doors opened as I approached them. found Lucie in the back reading amidst the perennials the automatic sprinkler system had dusted her in a mist of water.
Disterlly for getting rose oil not for wine ):
“Your son is here, looking for his daughter”
“You can’t let him.”, she suddenly became alarmed
“I can and have”,I took her towards the back door, hidden behind a growth of gladiolas, “Hide in the woods till they leave.”
Logic : Why is he helping her ?
LiLe : Stockholm ? Also he doesn’t want her to hurt Clara’s body
She agreed and as I made my way back to the house. Martin and Mr. Thorpe had discovered the Black Room.
“I see you have discovered my piano room, I am doing some remodeling”
Martin did not have the heart to listen and brought his hands to his face, the instrument had reminded him of his daughter. Mr. Thorpe offered a comforting hand on his back. The men stood in silence for several minutes before Martin could speak again.
“I wanted her to be here, I wanted you to have committed this crime.. . I just want to take my little girl home.”
LiLe : That was harsh ?
“I am dreadfully sorry, sir if there is anything I can do please let me know. anything”, those words sparked something strange in me but it was hardly the time.
LiLe : He’s happy. He likes seeing Martin so miserable.
Satisfied with their findings (or rather lack there of) the men left, leaving behind a stilted and saddened air
“He never seemed to care for family before”, Lucie said over dinner that night, “growing up. You know he never visited me after he moved out.”
“He cares for his daughter”
She thought about this for a while and leisurely sipped her tea.
“You know family is important to me, Sweetheart. A proper family”
“Proper ?”
“I want Clara to be apart of our family, and for her to get to know her new Grandfather.”
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy
lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
I don’t know where I got this poem but it’s basically discussing how love does not alter even after Time and Death. So, yeah pretty relevant.