Well, that settled it. He was clearly a psycho. "Listen, buddy, I have no idea what you're babbling about, but if you don't want to be charged with assault you'd best let me go. Now!" At least, that's what I would have said, what I was about to say--really, I was!--when Franklin came around the corner wearing what looked like a welders mask and holding what I took to be a stick of dynamite. It couldn't have been, though, since it was emitting white hot rays of light. I had never imagined anything that bright.
"Don't look! It is a flare, don't look at the light," he cried out to warn me, but it was too late, I had looked and could only see stars moving on a background of static.
I felt the man's hold on me falter as he cringed away from the light.
It was enough.
I did something very unladylike with my knee, tugged my limbs loose from him and ran toward the sound of Franklin's voice. Running blind, I would have banged into the wall at the end of the corridor but Franklin caught me in his arms and held me. He pet my hair and comforted me like I was a small child.
"Shhh, shhh, it's okay now. He's gone."
Chapter 4
I survived the attack, but all my parts were not equally lucky. I wrenched my ankle when I tore away from the crazy man lurking in the shadows. Franklin, who apparently had some training in the medical arts, assured me it was only sprained, although badly so. As he bandaged my ankle with practiced hands I fought to control my shaking.
"Who was that man? Does he live in the castle, roaming the hallways?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but when I thought about what might have happened if Franklin hadn't come along, it was difficult. If I was at home I'd curl up in front of the TV, put on The Princess Bride, and eat an entire gallon of Rocky Road ice cream. For starters.
Franklin gave me a dark look from under his brows and continued bandaging my ankle. "If living is what you call it."
"What? Oh, you're just trying to scare me." And doing a good job of it, I thought. "What do you think he wanted?" I asked.
"Don't dwell on it. Some things don't bear thinking about. He has a human form, but not the thoughts that go with it." Franklin must have noticed my expression of horror because he added in a brighter tone, "Don't worry about it, put it out of your mind. I'll escort you to the door and you can be on your way. The Andersons live up the road a few miles, I'm sure they won't mind letting you use their satellite phone. They might even give you a ride to the next town."
As he finished bandaging my ankle he gave my knee a fatherly pat. "I'm going to make sure the way is clear for us. Wait for me here, I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Franklin!" I cried out after him, afraid for him to leave me alone, afraid that he would meet the deranged man in one of the corridors and never come back. Feeling silly I blushed and stammered, "Shouldn't you take something with you? A gun or a club or something?"
He smiled at me, showing strange pointy teeth, and said, "I'll be fine, don't worry about me child." A chill travelled down my spine at the way he said it. I sunk against the stone wall and watched him as he hurried to shut the door. There was a grinding sound, like a key--exactly like a key--turning in a lock. Panicked, I sprang up and flew to the door, impotently throwing my weight against the huge wrought iron hinges.
"Franklin! What are you doing?" I screamed, slamming the flat of my hands hard against the thick wooden door.
"Don't hurt yourself child, I just don't want to have to worry about you wandering about getting lost. I'll be back for you soon. If you get thirsty there is a bucket of water in the corner."
"Franklin! Don't do this! Franklin!" In the stillness I heard his shuffling footsteps retreat into the distance. Shaking, I paced the floor. I told myself there was nothing to worry about. Franklin was just looking out for me. He would be back soon, I had to believe that or I would go mad.
I knew if Franklin was hurt by the madman who assaulted me this room would be my tomb, but I tried to push the thought away. Water. I needed water. I had heard that a person could survive for as many as 30 days on water alone. I went to look. A bucket of water was in one corner, just as Franklin had said. Thanking my lucky stars, I ladled up a generous scoop and greedily slurped it up. Shortly after the stress began to take its toll and my eyelids felt heavy. Groggy, I wondered how I could fall asleep in the midst of such a crisis.
Chapter 5
I awoke to dampness and the smell of rotting things. Instinctively, I struggled to sit up but the world exploded into shards of pain. Groaning, I gripped my head as though by holding it firmly I could make the pain go away. When that didn't work I peered around at my surroundings.
I was no longer in the infirmary. I had been moved, and none too gently considering how my head felt. A single wooden torch anchored high on the wall chased back the immediate darkness but there wasn't enough light to see the details of the room. Curious, I cautiously stood up and was rewarded with a spike of pain driving into my head--my ankle didn't feel happy either, but I found I could only concentrate on one really big pain at a time. It wasn't much of a silver lining but it was something. After gasping a few times, like a fish sucking air, I fought back dry heaves.
Slowly, I moved toward the torch hoping to warm my cold hands. After creeping forward about two feet there was a hard tug on my ankle--my uninjured one, mercifully--that nearly sent me sprawling face first on the stone floor. Reaching down I felt a manacle loosely clamped on my lower leg. My breath caught in my throat and all sorts of thoughts, none of them pleasant, tried to jam themselves into my head at the same time.
Franklin. The water had been drugged, and only Franklin could have done it.
But I didn't know that, I chided myself. The maniac I had run into earlier could have snuck into the room, seen the bucket of drinking water and drugged it. But then, how would he have known I would be hurt? How would he have known Franklin would take me to that particular room? Or perhaps the drug had never been intended for me at all, perhaps it had been intended for Franklin.
As I reached up to the torch, hands grabbed me from behind and, before I could scream, twirled me about like a rag doll and pressed me, hard, against the wall. A hand across my mouth muffled my screams for help.
"Screaming isn't going to do you any good and it will just make me grumpy. Trust me, you wouldn't like me when I'm grumpy," a familiar voice growled in my ear.
"I don't like you now," I said, my voice shaky, as he eased his hand away.
"Then it's mutual," he said, but he didn't seem as angry as he had in the hallway. "Have you explored the room?"
"Um, no. I'm not looking to buy."
Reaching up he plucked the torch from the wall bracket and, seizing me by my wrist, dragged me with him as far as my shackles would allow. As he walked slowly around the large room he held the torch aloft so its flickering light could reach the walls and ceiling. Chains loomed out of the darkness. They undulated like snakes as he reached up and ran his hand over their dangling ends. The walls were similarly adorned. I shuddered.
It turned out three walls of my cell were made of stone but the fourth was formed of iron bars. In the center was a door ... and it was open. My heart skipped a beat. Not that it did me a lot of good since my angle was shackled.
"My ... my family is expecting me," I said, as he let go of my wrist. "They'll be worried, they'll have called the police and the hospitals and ... did I mention the police?"
He smirked, "Is that supposed to frighten me?" His voice sent shivers down my spine.
I tried to back away from him but my back, once again, hit the cold stone of the wall. If only I had some sort of weapon ...
The man looked at me a moment, his gaze inscrutable, and then shook his head. "I'm not the one you should be scared of."
I looked at him appraisingly. The odd thing was he seemed sincere. "Really. You're saying I shouldn't be scared of someone who has attacked me? I'm assuming you do remember the whole, "Do not mistake my forbearance for weakness, I will keep it, whatever it takes," speech you g
ave me in the hallway," I said, pitching my voice an octave or so deeper to imperfectly mimic his.
He blushed.
"Not to mention that I've just been drugged and shackled in a dungeon that has 'Disneyland' stamped all over it. And you're seriously standing there telling me that I shouldn't be scared?" On the last notes my voice might have gone up a few octaves. Let's just say I was glad no champagne glasses were around.
He cleared his throat. "I never said you shouldn't be worried, I said, if you'll remember, that I wasn't the one you should be worried about."
"And who, exactly, are you?"
"Why don't we start over?" he said. "Hello. Pleased to meet you. My name is Jonathan Viri and this is my home."
"This is your home?" I felt my eyebrows try to climb my forehead and disappear into my hairline. "But Franklin said ..."
"I'm sure The Toad has said a lot of things, none of them true. He has lied for so long I doubt he even knows what the truth is."
"So .... this isn't his castle?" I asked, stunned.
"Strictly speaking, it is our castle, I share ownership with my brother."
I bent my head, closed my eyes and massaged my temples. It felt as though a spike were being forced into my brain. Squinting, I looked up at him. "Forgive me if this is a silly question, but if you own this place then what are you doing creeping about down here in the dungeon with the rats and cockroaches while he's upstairs answering the door telling people that you're some kind of bizarre human infestation?"
Jonathan smiled wearily. "That is a very, very, long story. Suffice it to say that Franklin wants me--and now you--dead."
Dusting the floor and sitting down I said, "Well, how about you get this manacle off my ankle--so old school--and give me the Coles Notes version?"
"I suppose that can be arranged," he said, stooping and producing a long thin piece of metal from his shirt cuff.
"You always go around with a lock pick up your sleeve?"
"As you have demonstrated, one never knows when such things will come in handy." After a moment of fiddling the shackle fell away. Reaching down for my hand he said, "Now, how about we get out of here? There are vastly more comfortable places to discuss these matters."
Just then, from out of the gloom, we heard a scraping sound, like that of a heavy door clanging shut. Even in the half-dark of the dungeon I could see panic sweep over Jonathan's features a moment before he lunged for the door. He tried to pry it open but it seemed the door had been locked from the outside.
Jonathan turned to me then and glowered--it seemed this was his comment on the part he felt I had to play in the proceedings--and then threw his whole body into his next attempt at forcing the recalcitrant door open. Although the door seemed to quiver it held fast.
"Franklin! Do not do this thing, I am warning you!" Jonathan bellowed.
An insane titter came from the other side of the door. "Oh, will you ... let's see ... will you 'rip my throat out' if I do not obey you, oh Lord of the Castle?"
"Franklin!" I called, running over to the bars and peering out at him. He couldn't be the one who put me in here, I wouldn't believe that. "Franklin, something is wrong. I fell asleep waiting for you and woke up here. Would you please let me out?"
"Oh yes! Immediately! And I suppose you will give me your solemn word you won't say anything to the police about being locked in a dungeon with my brother. My brother who I think you have a crush on. Mmmmm?"
"Do not!" I said and blushed, grateful of the low light. "But ... what? You ... you knew? You knew I was here?"
"Of course dear," he said, and smiled. "Who do you think put you in this dungeon?"
It was like an anvil hit me alongside the head. I hadn't believed Franklin would kill me until he said those words.
Chapter 6
Franklin's features changed before my eyes. Instead of distorting, they became more hideously normal, and his limp vanished. He grinned at me, reached up to his mouth and removed what looked like cellophane tape that had green splotches printed on it. One moment his pointed teeth appeared overrun with greenish fungus and the next he was sporting a set of very white teeth any dentist would have been proud of.
Panic rose in my throat like bile.
Franklin grinned triumphantly at me. I heard what sounded like a growl escape from Jonathan. "This is not over!" he spat at Franklin.
I could just make out Franklin's indistinct outline as he paced the floor outside our cage. No longer slumped, he stood almost as tall as his brother, Jonathan. Gone was the swollen red eye and limp. It had all been an act.
"Franklin I don't know why you're doing this but, whatever the reason, it can't be worth 20 years in prison," I said, having gathered my wits sufficiently to speak.
That earned me a sneer. "No one knows you're here. And, trust me, if I want to hide something down here then it'll stay hidden. It'll be a mystery. This place will probably find its way onto lists of ghoulish tourist routes. 'Oh look, sweeties, look at the house where a nasty old Lord and an assistant secretary, or whatever you are, disappeared'."
"Executive Rooms Manager!" I huffily corrected.
"Whatever," he said, rolling his now perfect eyes. "You're someone who is not going to be missed. Well, not much. If you were someone important like a congressman's daughter there'd be secret service agents breaking down the front door any minute now, but--and I do so hate to disillusion you--in the grand scheme of things you don't matter. Oh, sure, your family will report your disappearance and a form will find its way to some overworked cops' desk and be put on the bottom of the pile. By the time he gets off his duff to come nosing around here asking about you I'll be in Costa Rico, or the Caribbean, or maybe Hawaii. I haven't quite decided."
Franklin looked at me with an expression of triumphant glee. He seemed to like the idea of my fear, my pain.
"You pulled the wings off flies when you were a kid, didn't you?" I asked.
"Among other things," he said, his voice giving the impression of decay, corruption, and darker things. I shivered, and it wasn't from the cold.
He stood before me, on the other side of the bars, gloating.
Well, enough of that. I laughed at him. Not because I was happy or because he'd said anything remotely funny, but as commentary. It was what I thought of him. From the look on his face it wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting. I had to give credit to Franklin, though, he'd thought this through. He'd thought of almost everything.
Franklin shook his head. "It's not going to work. You're not going to make me all hot and bothered and get me to make a stupid mistake, a mistake which results, in the best Hollywood style, in you and the Lord of the Manor here flying the coop and me landing behind bars. What is the longest a person can survive without water? Three days? No, the only place you two lovebirds are going is the great hereafter."
Franklin smirked at us, turned on his heel, and walked away. After a few moments I heard bars rattle and the scrape of metal like a door closing.
* * * *
"I hate to say I told you so," Jonathan said. "But ..."
"I know, I know, you told me so," I said, running my hand through my hair. Instead of being long and silky, it stuck up at all angles and I seemed to have acquired a couple of mats. I wanted to cry, but that would just smudge my mascara even more.
"This really is all your fault you know, if only you hadn't been taken in by Franklin's lies, his promises ..." He paused and looked at me. "By the way, I'm curious. What did he promise to do for you in exchange for your help?"
I glared at Jonathan in the half-light and hoped he could see me, even though my hair looked like a bird's dream home.
"For the last time, I wasn't helping him, at least not intentionally. My car broke down near that handful of shacks you call a town. No one there had a phone, and my cell phone couldn't get a signal, so I walked down the road, hoping someone would have a phone line or a satellite phone. When I saw this castle ...," I shrugged. "It was getting dark and I was feeling despera
te. I thought, 'What could it hurt? I'll just go ask." I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity. "And then there was this great awful shriek outside and Franklin pulled me into the castle before the creature could get me. I thought he had saved my life."
"Besides, do you think I said to Franklin, 'Oh, yes, please, lock me in a small room with a bucket of drugged water so that I can pass out and wake up chained to the floor in the same room as a raving lunatic'. And, besides, how was I to know he was homicidal? I mean, do you walk up to people and just assume they have murder on their minds?"
Actually, when I put it like that, it did seem as though I, of all people, should have known better.
"You fell for that old shtick?" Jonathan asked. "It amused my brother to take the haunted house motif to an extreme. When the castle was built speakers were installed outside and hooked up to a sound system. It's all fake. Franklin uses them to lure the unwitting into the castle."
"You ... you mean he's done this before?"
"Well, he's tried. You--we--won't be the first to die because of my father's insane will."
"His will?" I looked at him, boggled. "And I thought my family had issues."
Jonathan grinned and started to talk but I held up my hand. "Look, I'm sure it's fascinating, but forget the backstory, you can tell me all about it after we've gotten out of here, preferably somewhere with a raging log fire and lots of people.
"I hate to tell you this, but we're not getting out. My brother meant what he said, he's left us down here to die."
I shook my head and felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. "We're not going to die. Since I haven't been able to get in contact with my family they are going to be frantic by now, and will have started looking for me ... "
Jonathan rolled his eyes, "Yes, I know, they will be calling the police, the firemen and probably a couple of television stations. I'm sorry, but my demented brother was right, the police aren't going to be out looking for you, at least not for another 24 hours, and even then there isn't much they can do. No one knows you are locked down here. They may suspect, but Franklin would never allow anyone to explore the house without a search warrant and, even if the police had enough evidence to get one, that takes time. As my brother so thoughtfully informed us, a person can only survive three days without water. They would reach us far too late to be of any help."
A Night To Remember Page 2