7 lɑ̃fɛʁ sɛ lez otʁ /III

The mansion

Stepping into the courtyard, There was no creaking sound coming from the gate's seams, no menacing looking grove of decaying trees, nor any icy cold wind sounding like the wailing of tortured souls. No. From the entrance, the place didn't look anything spectacular except that it looked more like a quarry than an actual home. What I could see in my immediate surroundings was a typical mess you could find on a construction site. The space was sectioned in two by a path traced in the middle. To the left, Machines and piles of common material were strewn here and there, white sand and muddy soil were amassed into small mounds farther away. That section of the yard was surrounded by a perimeter fence that took up a lot more space then necessary. I didn't bother exploring the site as it looked empty and ordinary.

To the right was a sturdy looking guard house fully equipped with spotlight and alarm speakers. Bingo!

Musing on the method used by the 'burglars' to bypass the reputed tight security of a city mansion, I moved toward the guard house to take a look.

The spot was tidy and nothing that should be there (I think) was missing. Screens, computers, vests and weapons were all in place and brand new as if nobody ever used them.

Beside this minor detail, my investigation was utterly fruitless so I wiped of my prints on the doorknob before leaving the room.

The main building was out of sight because it was hiding behind a giant scaffold and the curtain-like rucksack fabric spanning the whole width of the yard. Partitioning it in two. This contrivance was designed to block off the fine dust escaping from worksites ( especially traditional mining quarries) was rarely seen in town, but considering the heavy work going on, it made sense.

As I found a slit in this curtain and moved around the scaffold, I finally could see a one of a kind building. It could only be described as a magnificent piece of architecture. Inspired by the glorious chateaus of France (smaller in size), a sophisticated and luxurious retreat that reflects a type of magical mariage between inspiration and architecture. My feet stopped when I reached the half open front door next to which was a gold plate signed by renowned architect Randall Stofft and Cudmore Builders.

My exploration of the main building confirmed that these people's reputation was well due. To put it simply, the estate was a masterpiece of design and craftsmanship featuring inlayed onyx, a floor of hand-planed hickory wood and masterful hand-painted ceilings. They even added a hand-carved fireplace by Barbara Tattersfield, exquisite crystal chandeliers, and an elevator to transport from floor to floor. On a side note, the device came in handy to investigate the 5-floored mansion.

One thing that drew me out of my marvel at the surrounding was the fact that as luxurious as furnishings was, it couldn't fill the almost chilling emptiness of the premises. There was literally, nobody. Not a soul. No tacky looking courtesans nor gray haired butler. Not even a roach in sight.

I was starting to have second thoughts about my actions. "Maybe I acted on impulse?", "stacking the gory sight on top of my frustration at that mad woman must have spurned me into action... recklessly...".

The thought was still lingering in my mind when I went out of the building through a backdoor to see a state of the art blacktop footpath. The footpath cut through a sea of blazing petals in the middle, and led to a huge 'flame tree' carrying a 'spirit nest'. At the risk of sounding redundant, the spirit nest was a nest-like structure nestled at the intersection of the tree trunk and branches.

It was made up of the tree's flexible branches bend and held together by 'invisible' conter sunk screws that guaranteed a resilient and flowing structure. The nest was leaning back on the main branch with its entrance resembling a trachea burned by years of smoking or seared through by the flaming tree.

The sun rays filtered through, penetrating the nest from all sides and crisscrossing into the shape of a four branched star. This optical effect complimented the wooden ladder granting access to the atypical structure, and the ensemble resembled a gateway at the center of an altar. *tchooo Stargate*.

The silent waving of the tree branches reinforced the feeling of a place of worship dedicated to a divinity of nature, conjuring duality in its wood and fire attributes: Flaming tree.

Each step toward the structure seem to transport me to the scene of a pilgrim braving a sea of flame, to prove his worth and devotion while being cheered on by aflame fairies dancing to otherworldly rhythms whispered from the firmament.

I stood there for a while, taking in the view, Growing to be a little less tense with each breeze blowing past me. In this manner, my eyelids grew imperceptibly heavier by the seconds, but the whole thing was too comfy, so I kept walking with eyes closed, slowly breathing in the flowers fragrance and relaxing... until...darkness.

...

~~ meanwhile at a different location ~~

???: "Mr Louis you saw the footage for yourself didn't you? Your brother is not who you used to know and you now have a choice to make. You either join the Company, in which case we can deal with the situation and spare your brother a gruesome death or reject us and... I think you can guess the outcome. You have 10 seconds..

9...8...7..."

Louis: "Ok I'll do it! But I want a guarantee that nothing is gonna happen to him. How can you prove that??!!"

???: "Great choice you made. As for guarantees, once you are part of the company, you won't need any, since you will be able to look after him yourself".

Louis: "Alright were is the damn contract..."

...

...

The darkness lasted but a millisecond, the time for my eyelids to flap but the effect was world shattering and mind flipping. If the relaxing sight from a second ago was positive, then It was suddenly switched with its negative.

Instead of gently dancing branches what I could see were hemoglobin addicted roots flailing left and right in a menacing way. The sky was dark as night and fairies cheers were replaced by maddening wails and agonizing murmurs. In place of a holy sanctuary , I was presented with a picture of a blasphemous evil altar suffused with the stench of blood and radiating a mephitic ambiance. The miasma of putrid and sulphuric composition , the pale whiteness of bones shard strewn here and there, the rotten sight of decaying matter, and the taste of the musty acrid air convinced me that this was not a place for the living.

I probably would have died from shock if not from my innate resistance to fear but even though I lost the feeling, I didn't lose the instincts. Anything that lives in such a place should not qualify as friendly, especially if it pulled me here without consent. All in all, I needed to get the hell out of here and quickly.

Looking around I couldn't locate a source of light but the path in front of me was wide open so, as usual I moved forward by lack of alternatives. I walked exactly 3000 steps inside before crossing into an open cave with high ceiling. There was a flight of stairs built for giants since each step was at least 2 meters in height.... or were they terraces?

At the edge of the first terrace, the air, though charged with blood, was little more bearable but the darkness turned almost tangible and viscous. The walls around seemed to have veins that converged to the center of the cave were a giant molten cauldron was standing.

The veins were pumping rhythmically while emanating a greenish ghastly hue and with each pumping motion, the content of the cauldron seemed agitated as if boiling. But that's hardly of note when inside the cauldron, was a cross leaning sideways in a pool of green liquid, looking like a ladle ready to stir up the soup. Even more surprising was the crucified kid hanging inert on the cross.

The kid didn't look older than 12 or 13 years old. He had was dressed in a deep purple 'boubou' with long sleeves and minimal embroidery. His whole body was covered only leaving his wounded bits visible.

His head was hanging low and a light rumbling sound was coming from him.... was the dude snoring or something ? The weirdest thing in that scene was that instead of bleeding out, the kid on the cross seemed to be absorbing the content of the cauldron. This graphically translated into an Upward stream of greenish liquid snaking along the leaning cross, to his nailed hands and feet.

From my vantage point i could see the that Inside the pool of unknown liquid floated a number of deformed corpses waving hands like tentacles or holding them up as if in prayer. Their movement was reminiscent of a wheat field moved my the intermittent caress of the wind. However, the view was less than bucolic especially when the animated 'limbs bend in all types of shape with complete disregard for human anatomy.

Some of the monstrosities were holding kidneys, brains and other items that had nothing to do outside of a human body while others were squishing what appeared to be fresh body parts. Judging by the bloodied bits of clothes worn by most of the lifeless bodies, the mystery of the empty house and guard post was resolved.

Being unable to fell fear, I still felt a revolting discomfort at the whole picture. So I looked around in hopes of locating a way out of this hell-hole before turning into a nutritious addition to the gory banquet.

Seemingly disturbed by the muffled but erratic sound of my footsteps, the kid slowly raised his head and set his eyes on me just as I was moving around the cauldron. Feeling his intense gaze lock onto me, I couldn't stop my hair from standing on ends nevertheless I decided to face him because i felt that no matter what I did, I wouldn't be able to leave if the kid didn't want me to.

I turned to face him and the first thing that caught my eyes other than it's delicate features and light brown skin were his irises. Instead of the common round shape, his eyes were occupied by 4-branched crimson star that seemed to suck away one's will.

I stood there in a trance feeling my body relax and losing focus. I was totally at his mercy and the most alarming thing was that... there was no pop-up... *when I would be happy to receive one*. Clearly, this kid wasn't a normal human, if I suspected it before I was certain now... and I didn't know what type of troubles I just set my foot in. The worst part was that no matter how I scream inwardly for Kishi's help, nothing happened.

I was not scared, I didn't panic but I knew I was defenseless... and there is nothing worst to me than being powerless.

Seeing the turmoil in my eyes, the kid spoke.