by Eve Hathaway
Chapter Four
MY SOLITUDE IN the sanitarium was short lived. Bear with me, my dearest listener, because I'm about to share with you the true origin of my suffering. My linear existence was interrupted by the early visit from the mothering female orderly that cooed and petted whenever she came to see me. This time however, she was not alone.
"Judas, poor lamb, you have a visitor! Isn't that wonderful?" She smiled down on me as I forced my eyelids to rise. She was so close that I could see the unsightly dark hairs sprouting on her chin and smell the overpowering odor of cheap cologne on her blouse. Behind her, my mother's corpse hovered in the corner, mouthing hateful curses.
"Who?" My voice was weak and fuzzy, my tongue swollen and parched and difficult to maneuver. My hands were free but it didn't matter. I was far too weak to even consider standing unassisted. My eyes dropped to the floor, and I noticed a pair of shiny black shoes, freshly polished and clearly expensive.
The shoes stepped forward and my gaze traveled upwards to the freshly pressed black pants, the custom tailored suit, and the white gloved hands with extraordinarily long fingers.
"Young Master Judas," the voice was startlingly deep and sent goose bumps across my skin.
The mothering orderly moved aside, allowing me my first proper glimpse of my warden. I found myself craning my neck to see the face of the man who introduced himself only as Blu. Blu the Butler.
His age was impossible to discern, he could've been anywhere from twenty-five to mid-forties. His skin was very pale, almost transparent, and he had the bluest, fiercest eyes I had ever seen in my entire life. They burned with a cold, cruel fire that set my nerves on edge.
Even then, I knew there was something evil that lurked behind his facade of normalcy.
"I assume you are wondering why I am here," he spoke perfect English, but with the curious clarity of one to whom it is a second language. I noticed, as he spoke, that his teeth were very white. For a moment I imagined that they were pointed, but when I peered closer, I decided that it must have been a trick of the light.
"What do you want?" I rasped weakly, my voice was like two bits of paper sliding against one another.
The strange man calling himself 'Blu' reached into the vest pocket of his overcoat and withdrew a neatly folded envelope. "This is a letter from your great grandfather, Judas Stoker I." The name stirred up faint, far-off memories of a rambling, gargantuan mansion with maze-like halls and limitless properties.
Blu set the letter down on my bedside table and continued, "Your great grandfather would like to extend to you an invitation to come live with him. As your last remaining, or at least last reputable relative, he hopes to become your legal guardian."
Blu's words shocked me. My great grandfather had hardly been a passing thought for many years. I recalled that my mother had taken me to visit him when I was very young, but there had been a terrible fight, after which we never went back.
To be honest, I was equally shocked to learn that he was still alive as I was to learn that he wanted me to come and live with him. I hardly knew what to say.
"Think about it," Blu said, almost as if he had read my thoughts. "Just decide whether you would like to spend the rest of your adolescence as a bird in a cage, or if you would like to step through the door and seize an opportunity for greatness."
Thinking back to that time, I remember perfectly how much I longed for family. No one could ever replace my mother of course, but the idea that I might not have to be so alone was too tempting for me to turn up. Poor blind fool! I didn't need the night to decide whether or not I wanted to spend my life institutionalized. I accepted the offer right away.
Ah, misery.