What He left behind

- W-Who was he...?

- Lady Lisbeth! What's going on?! - asked that young butler named Bruno when he saw that his mistress was on the floor full of grass.

Two maids who appeared on the scene immediately went to pick up Lisbeth trying to clean her from the remains of the grass on her clothes and hair.

- What happened? - asked Bruno again, but much calmer this time.

- No... nothing. I was just playing with Maxi.

The young man watched her for a moment and then turned his gaze to the dog next door. Suddenly, he bent down, put his hand on the head of that pet and began to pet him.

̶ Hey, boy ... you mustn't play rough with Lisbeth. - For the first time the butler referred to his mistress by her name only.

When they were all ready, each one of them went inside the residence.

In the apartment where the four, no, now five young men were staying, Daniel had returned and saw in the living room how Glen and Renato were still sitting across from each other.

- So that's the way it is, huh? - Glen commented with a defiant smile on his face.

- They always were. - Renato commented with the same smile.

Daniel didn't understand what had become of the situation; in fact, he never did.

- Kiss now, will you? - Daniel commented with disinterest as they walked around the room.

While they both kept saying sentences that Daniel wasn't even trying to understand anymore, he wondered where Aren and Liam were since tomorrow they would have to go on a trip according to the travel agency's schedule.

- I guess our relationship will change from now on, don't you think? - Glen commented ignoring Daniel's question.

- That's a shame and I thought we were already good friends. - replied Renato, ignoring Daniel.

- Go to the dark side. - Daniel muttered leaving them alone while he went to Aren's room.

When he arrived, he noticed that the door was open and there was no one inside, so he went to see Liam.

- Liam, are you there? Do you know where Aren went?

Inside the room was the boy lying on his bed while reading a book. Yes, it was a rare sight to see these days.

- No... he just said he was going out.

- I understand ... changing the subject, I passed by the hospital yesterday and it seems that ... the boy's body was cremated.

Cremated? Who paid for that? - Liam asked somewhat interested.

- Yes, when passing by the morgue, some nurses and technicians mentioned about the cremation done in the early morning of a child's corpse ... then they mentioned Marcelo's name.

̶ ... I see ... I hope the boy is resting now ... wherever he is. - Liam replied as if he was no longer trying to think about it and went back to reading his book.

- Yes ... may he rest in peace. - said Glen suddenly who was standing behind Daniel.

- May his soul have found peace. - added Renato who was next to Glen.

Daniel was surprised by the presence of these two, but then he calmed down and retired to his room.

After this, the group was left to wait for the next day to come and leave.

Having spent another hour since his tour and having asked some people, Aren had arrived at a somewhat wide street where the houses were somewhat deteriorated, but their design was equally elegant.

Actually, they were some of them like the design of homes of the monarchic era and as he was checking the addresses pasted on the walls of the buildings, he could notice one that stood out above the others.

It was because it was quite large in its surface and was enclosed by stone walls with holes that allowed him to see that inside there was like an interior garden that was deteriorated and neglected, a water fountain that was destroyed and a building at the back of the place.

Looking at the address shown on the plaque stuck on the wall near the main entrance he could notice the following words:

Rosvelt Street, Lot 51, Mz. C, Cypresses.

"At last!" thought Aren.

When he saw the sheet with the address written on it, he knew he was on the street indicated, but not on the correct lot.

- Lot 51 ... Where is lot 53? - Aren said to himself.

Walking around the adjacent houses he began to look at the addresses; however, before this place, there was lot 52 and the one after it was followed by lot 56.

At first glance, Aren thought that in this area should be from lot 53 to 55, but he questioned why lot 51 was in the middle of 52 and 56 and the others were not.

The order was confusing and the other houses he could notice something strange, some of them had no address and lots 53, 54 and 55 were among those that did not appear.

There was not a single soul on that street and there was no one to ask, plus the entrance to that spacious lot had a gate-like gate that was chained. How could such a street be in a well-kept residential area? Why were the lots in disarray?

- Well ... I think I give up. - Aren said as he saw the difficulties adding to the fatigue of the trip.

The young man turned around to go back from whence he came; however, one thought held him back.

As he remembered the last moments of that child, it echoed like an echo that would not let Aren give up on his goal.

The young man sighed.

- What do I do now?

As he looked back in the direction of that spacious place and then looking inside through the bars he noticed something strange. He could perceive at the back of the place the silhouette of a person who passed quickly.

Whether it was true or not, this made the young man hopeful. It could be that if it really was a person who lived in this place, he could help him to know where that address was.

The problem now was how he could communicate or rather enter the interior of that place.

An unexpected instinct took hold of the young man. As if he were a kind of thief, the young man began to climb up the door until he reached the top and then jumped into the ground.

It was not difficult for him and even more that there were no people around motivated him to do his task.

- Having been for hours looking for this place ... a door is not going to stop me. - Aren muttered.

Aren started to walk through the garden until he arrived near the old water fountain and while observing the place behind him on the stone wall next to the grilled door was written a number and a letter.

53-C

As he continued walking as if he were a tourist, Aren tried to go to that place where he had seen the silhouette from before.

The designs were certainly from the olden days, where the Spanish monarchy was at its peak, but now it was just a relic of the past all construction.

When he reached the bottom, a large house about three stories high was shown, and to its side, a sort of hut.

The young man began to look around, but could not find that silhouette. This made him wonder if there really was someone here or if he had been mistaken.

Therefore, he tried to return to the entrance somewhat confused and unmotivated, but that feeling vanished when he saw that engraving on the wall near the door.

- ¿53-C?

Yes, seeing that number made his mind remember the address he was looking for. The number fit.

The young man immediately turned around again with his eyes fixed on that dilapidated, but large house. As he approached the building, he began to knock on the door.

- ... is anyone there? - As he said this, he really didn't know if anyone would actually come out, for his mind had come to a conclusion.

"And now what am I supposed to do?"

Yes, the thoughts he had to have had all along were starting to appear.

"What or who am I looking for? Could it be that the boy lived here? ... On the other hand, what will they think of someone who broke in illegally? ..."

About ten minutes passed and no one would be; no sound could be heard inside that house, only the sound of little birds coming and going.

 "What proceeds then?"

The door being closed, Aren opted to look through the windows of the house; however, they were very high; therefore, he managed to take some debris making them as a small dismount that would allow him to reach and climb up to the window that was open.

 But before he could see anything, being on the window frame that had broken glass, he slipped causing him to fall inside.

The fall seemed serious, but unexpectedly Aren got up as if nothing had happened.

"I wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible...but it doesn't matter now, I'm already inside."

The sight he observed was a messy place, with torn and dusty curtains, some few moth-eaten wooden furniture and unexpectedly an antique TV.

- Excuse me ... I'm here for a request from Marcelo ... is anyone here? - Aren said in a monotonous tone as if he knew that at this point it would be silly to ask that question.

As he carefully looked around the place, his confused main objective was changed by a sudden curiosity that ended up becoming a strange fascination exploring the place.

- Wow... I feel like Dora.

Checking the second floor, he found only debris, tools and dysfunctional devices. But the excitement of seeing what was on the top two floors made her curiosity undiminished.

Unfortunately, the second floor put her off a bit.

There were only rooms with some smashed armchairs, a kitchen without utensils and other junk he found, plus there was some kind of key holder board in the kitchen on top of a cabinet, but obviously there was none.

That board listed numbers from 1 to 16 in an orderly fashion, but, as it turned out, there was no use for that piece of wood.

- I think this is where the term housekeeper comes from.

At that moment, Aren hesitated to continue exploring and, looking through a window on that floor, the sky was getting a little dark, which made him even more discouraged.

- ... This is getting boring ... I guess I'll go see the last of it ... I have nothing to lose anyway.

With this in mind, Aren was encouraged to check out the top floor; however, he still found nothing interesting. It was then that he remembered that he had an objective for which he came.

- Well ... I did what I could ... there is nothing interesting here ... I didn't even ask the boy what he wanted by telling me this address ... ... I'm leaving.

Aren went back the way he came, or so he was doing.

A faint noise coming from that floor could be heard, but it was not an identifiable sound. It could have been the sound of a footstep, a small animal or perhaps something falling; it was not feasible to know its origin.

This made the young man stop and stand still, trying to see if the sound was produced again.

Seconds passed and nothing was heard, Aren thought it was just his imagination as well as the supposed silhouette he saw before entering. Therefore, he headed towards the stairs towards the second floor; however, when he took the first step, a slight noise was heard again, but this time it was something familiar.

It sounded like the sound of metal clashing and dragging on the floor.

This time it wasn't a hallucination, Aren thought.

As Aren began to check the third floor again, he noticed a single piece of furniture that was a large closet with tattered clothes lying around and, inside, a large rectangular mirror with brass edges set next to the wall of a room.

The male took interest in this place, as the rest of the rooms had no heavy metal objects unlike the closet. But still this mirror remained in its position, so it would not have been the cause of that sound.

Aren could not find a reason for what was happening, but again the sound was heard again.

- So it's not coming from here, but ... from where?

Aren went into the next room and, while waiting, searched for the cause of the sound.

After a few minutes, it was heard again, but with less intensity than in the previous room. Aren realized that his instinct was not deceiving him and, returning to the previous room, Aren began by looking at the walls without finding anything of interest.

However, when he looked at the closet, he noticed something strange in the outline of the mirror, it seemed to be badly positioned and tilted when he looked closely. Aren, upon moving the clothes and removing the mirror, noticed that the space left by the mirror was a gap where there was no part of the closet, but a kind of door big enough for a child to enter.

That door was the same color as the wall of the room, which would make one get confused if one did not see it carefully. Suddenly, that sound was heard again and the deductions were obvious: it came from whatever was behind that door.

When he tried to open the door, he noticed that it had a small handle with a key hole; however, the door was locked.

The young man tried to force it, but to no avail. Fortunately, his spirits returned and he began to think about how to enter, but time passed and there was no plan.

It was at that moment that he remembered that, in the kitchen on the second floor, there was a board with keys and, although he had not seen any before, he set out to check the place.

Certainly in front of him there was only the board, but there was nothing else, so he began to search the floor and corners of the place for keys.

A quarter of an hour passed, but he found nothing. Finally he tried to check the cabinet under the dashboard in the hope of finding something; however, it was the same as before.

In front of the dashboard, his discomfort was evident and, leaning his hands on the cabinet, he bumped his head against the dashboard as a symbol of his tiredness, but the answer came to him: the sound of small metals colliding with the dashboard was heard.

Aren stood up and turned the empty board over to see a key ring with thirteen keys hanging on it.

He immediately went up to the third floor where that door was and began trying the keys, but it seemed that none of them were the right one. His frustration was growing.

- Why didn't any of them work?

Actually, it was difficult to know which key he had used since they were all of the same design and seemed to have exactly the same cipher between them. But when he touched the surface of the grip he noticed a strange relief; when he looked closely, he could see a number engraved on each key from 1 to 16, missing the numbers 5, 9 and 13.

At that moment, Aren remembered those words of the boy who had given him the address.

- The handles ... their numbers matched ... the keys.

The young man began to check the door handle and saw that underneath it there was an engraved number which was 15.

As he checked his keys, he could see that he had that key. And, with great excitement, he placed it in the handle and, turning it around, he noticed that he had unlocked the door.

Slowly, as if he were going to open a treasure chest, Aren opened the door; however, what he found was not a treasure, but a regrettable fact.

A little far away was the presence of a chained woman, without arms or legs and with clothes that looked like dirty tablecloths. That woman tried to move, making the dragging of the chains on the ground audible.

Yes, Aren had found, in decadent conditions, an imprisoned person.