Chapter 1: Gather

BRUTAL

Love, feelings, warmth - none of that mattered now. Everyone knew that somebody was clearly mad, and only a question of who would suffice.

꧁_꧂

It was a sunny day in the busy city streets of New Roslin, and three people of different classes, professions, and backgrounds, all received an invitation in celebration of an old mutual friend's eightieth birthday on a small private island.

Dawn Island - the name pegs different pleas of history but there really isn't anything special about this place, just that it was a piece of high-end expensive land owned by some old dude that goes by M.F.C.

But some people claim that this "M.F.C." had long been deceased and that the island had long been passed down on to his unknown son or something, yet some also say that it is not the case; some believe that the island was owned by a wealthy family in the mining industry, while some claim that the island was a prison for war criminals back in the day; but all those stories always end up only being a spiral of pointless rumors.

No one had any actual background views of this island and the stories always change up over time as well, however, one specific detail has stayed stagnant in all versions of the myths and legends: that there was a grand mansion sitting atop the hill on Dawn Island. No one knew of any residents but that was just it.

Invitations had went for that old mutual friend's birthday celebration - under the mysterious alias of M.F.C. - and the first invite was sent to Victoria Hughes, a middle aged preschool teacher that had offered swimming lessons as a hobby. The letter went:

Dear Ms. Hughes,

How have you been these days? I surely hope you still remember my son Carlos. He just wouldn't shut up about you! Oh little kids, am I right? Anyway, I'm glad you were able to teach my son well and even leave an impression on him. As a parent, that's quite the respectable result.

My eightieth birthday is coming and I would deeply appreciate your presence. It will be on the 10th of May, Dawn Island. A boat shall pick you and the others up by 6 am at the private dock near the end of pier 5th's street.

I suppose you should take this as an opportunity for a short vacation and chance to unwind; the celebration will last for about five days, from this coming Monday to Friday afternoon - you shall be home by then, and all compliments be served, granted your schedule allows it.

I surely hope to see you there!

A grateful parent,

M.F.C.

It was a little tricky - the thought that raced through Victoria Hughes' mind would be. An eighty-year-old with a child she'd teach. She's a preschool teacher, that was a little odd, but nonetheless, a celebration's a celebration. Victoria would be rude not to accept.

And in a similar manner, written as though they had known each other for the longest of times, M.F.C. sent two more letters to the following:

Adam Roscoe, an old medic friend and famous surgeon who has treated M.F.C. back in the day with his old liver transplant - or so M.F.C. claims,

And,

Emily Von Geisler, the heiress of the largest coal producing company and biggest luxury hotel chains of the time, said to have met each other during one of those boring rich people gatherings where girls play croquet and boys drink rum in the day,

And as time goes by for the three guests, spent by packing and picking out their best outfits for the anticipated occasion, Monday finally came. All three meeting at the dock waiting for the clock to hit six and for the boat ride to appear.

Victoria arrives first, in her yellow flowy sun dress topped by a graciously wide straw hat laid with a yellow ribbon up front.

Then later followed by the doctor dressed in a simple pressed white polo, sleeves rolled just up until his elbow, paired with some brown khaki shorts then only to look up and down at Victoria and with a crooked smile, brown eyes behind thick round glasses - sparkling under the warm sun's light and his dark soft natural curls slightly disheveled as they sway along to the wind's gentle breeze - dashing - Victoria might have thought and he meets her eyes as he lets out a greeting laced with tender sweetness in his alluring yet soothing deep voice as he says, "here for Cape's boat miss... ?" and damn but Victoria would ought to try - no, she had to behest herself to fight the urge to look at the gentleman's dry lips slowly curling up into an affable smile - and dare she say, her heart would skip a beat for this man's demeanor in her presence.

"Ah, yes! Victoria Hughes! Please, just call me Victoria. I was invited by Mr. Cape for his birthday celebration. I assume you were as well. His son was a good student of mine. You must be...?"

Quite the talker - the man would think, but just as he opens his mouth, breath taken and ready to speak,

"-Adam Roscoe! What a delight to see you here!" an obnoxiously high pitched posh voice interrupts the two as it pipes from behind.

"That's Doctor Roscoe to you, young lady! Who might you be?" the doctor replies, irate evident in his eyes by the rude interruption.

"Oh please, Emily Von Geisler, but you can call me, Emmy! I believe you tended to my pa before he passed in the hospital." a short, young lady dressed flamboyantly in a knee-length dress - frills and lace decorating her sleeves - heavy shades of magenta and paired with a huge matching bonnet, white and green feathers standing out atop, replied.

"Ah yes! Geisler, sounds familiar indeed." The doctor had said quite condescendingly in tone.

The three went on to have a small delightful chat for a bantam amount of time as they soon hear a loud deep horn coming from the direction of the sea.

HOOONK HOOONK

And as if it had specifically called out to them, automatically the three guests whipped their heads in the honk's direction. A classy yacht was what awaited them. S.S. CAPE - the side of the boat read.

"I believe our ride is here." Adam Roscoe points out,

"Are we the only guests? Or are the others just terribly late?" Victoria, the teacher, asks to no one in particular amd to this Emily replies,

"Of course, we must be the only ones! What manners are there to arrive later than now? Whoever's late is obviously not fit to come! Hmph!" Emily spits, with a scowl on her face and her voice raised just a little bit higher this time acting like she was the queen of hearts - ugh! - Victoria would have thought.

"Well, well, it can't be helped." Roscoe comments as he makes his way beside the railings, holding onto his seemingly heavy brown luggage and motioning for the others to enter, "Ladies first." he says and once again with that sheepish grin of his, the corner of his lips curling up into a tired smile, Victoria's heart leaps at the sight, the teensiest bit of flush finding its way up to her cheeks as she tries to look away, avoiding that heavenly eye contact with the doctor that she would have long so wanted.

The boat connects what appears to be a wooden plank with metal railings and hand bars at the side to the end of the dock at the pier, allowing the guests, along with their luggages, to come up just a tad bit conveniently and start their quick voyage.

Shortly after, they all arrive at Dawn Island and in just a few 1 kilometer from the island dock, a large elegant house sits atop a tiny hill. The house was huge, windows large, ceilings high, and doors grand. The magnificent stone walls create a vintage effect on the exterior of, say about two or three stories. Inside was a beautiful glass chandelier sparkling from the reflecting sunlight that had entered as it hangs from the center-top of the lobby, and a grand staircase wide open that splits into two: the west and the east wing, welcomes them.

Before reaching the stairs, there were huge doorways on both sides - the left one leading to an empty hall, grand enough to throw a ball, and you could say the same was there behind the right doorway as well. The magnificent lobby was graced with spectacular cold marble white floors and all of the furniture seemed so expensive that getting to touch it just might've costed you a fortune.

Then from behind the grand staircase, on either side - a servant maid from the left and a young butler from the right - steps forward and greets the three guests together in such perfect synchrony, you could almost call it creepy.

They introduced themselves as Samantha and Damon Pear, twin servants at their beck and call. They say that M.F.C. would be on his way and will be arriving late, so they lead the guests into their individual luxurious bedrooms instead, and announced luncheon to be served by 1200.

The guests each unpack and warm theirselves up as they get used to the new atmosphere of the mansion while the Pear twins busy themselves cooking for lunch.

Victoria Hughes takes a stroll around the mansion and aquaints herself with a mental map, exploring, locating, and drawing mind images of where each different doors may lead and where each different rooms may be.

As Victoria walks past a grand double-leaf mahogany door, she safely assumes it is the dining area, so she gently pushes past, curiosity leading her motion, and enters only to surprise herself with a find. Along with the beautiful velvet couch, stone-bricked fireplace, and grand paintings of what might be important people of the past hung against the tall neat walls, Emily Von Geisler was already inside.

Sitting on one of those single rocking chairs by the window, admiring the view from the dining room before turning to Victoria with a look of disdain obviously plastered across her face, Emily eyes at her lowly.

"Oh, Miss Emily! You gave me quite the shock there!" Victoria squeaks,

"A shock?" Emily raises. "Dear, with a face like mine, a shock would be an understatement! You should be grateful and amazed to even be in my presence! Ohohoho!"

"yeah, because you're so ugly, it makes me feel a little better about myself." Victoria carelessly whispers just below her breath, annoyed by Emily's obnoxious behaviour.

"What was that, dear?" Emily retorts, sensing a mean vibe coming from the fellow woman.

"Oh nothing! I really am grateful, though..." Victoria smiles, the kind where she closes her eyes for a brief moment then proceeds to find her way towards a velvet cushioned wooden chair and settles herself by the dining table.

Later, the door creaks once again, revealing the doctor with his signature crooked smile, glancing at the two ladies briefly offering nothing but a tight lipped grin before silently settling himself by the dining table as well, in a seat just across Victoria, and at this action, Ms. Hughes would feel the slightest tinge of giddy jitters in her stomach as she makes brief eye contact with the smiling man across, aware of the slight warmth rushing to her cheeks and she only shrugs this notion off as hunger.

"Luncheon must be around the corner by now. It's already 5 minutes to twelve." Adam suggests. Victoria shifts in her seat feeling a little excited as she agrees with him and Emily nods as well, slowly getting up from the rocking chair and striding to her place in the table as she mannerly takes a seat beside her fellow woman, Ms. Hughes.

Five minutes later, at exactly 1200, the twin servants enter the room, pushing metal carts of silverware and plattered dishes as they pacefully serve and settle the food neatly on the table.

The guests partake in their meal and Samantha, the maid Pear, makes her way towards a phonograph and inserts the huge vinyl prepared at the side entitled "Swan Song" and just as a gentle piano minuet plays in the background, Damon, the butler Pear, speaks up and announces, "Luncheon is served." and this signifies in everyone's hearts as if by magic, that the night had commenced.

***

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