The Chamber of Sins

Adrian gazed around, exploring the surroundings. In the distance, a dog barked, and a few seconds later, another one replied. Their conversation got cut by Anna’s phone ring. She talked with someone for a minute and disappeared behind the building. A small door protected the inner garden, now totally neglected by the owners. Some chrysanthemums resisted the weeds and tinged the place shyly. There was a lake too. You couldn’t say if it is natural, its discoloured green colour speckled with microscopical flooding plants.

Adrian pressed the house door handle. It was rusty and noisy, its every movement signalling with a dreary sound. The boy glanced up. A curtain fluttered.

“She is here,” he said, smirking and propping against the door with all his weight.

Finally, the door opened under his pressure. Anna appeared behind him, her eyes glassy like a fish. The boy hardly restrained his disgust and, wishing to distance himself, Adrian entered the hall.

A thin layer of dust was floating in the air, disturbed only by some playful rays of the sun creeping into the room through the dusty curtains that protected the impressively tall windows. The same layer was on the wooden floor, undisturbed. Adrian didn’t take the bait, as he was pretty sure that someone was in the house.

“Cheap tricks,” he muttered and continued his way to the stairs. He opened every single room in his way and nothing.

“Hello? I know you are here. Where are you?” The house didn’t respond, not even with a sound. Adrian grinned and returned to the ground floor. He knocked on the walls, listening to the way they reverberate. Knock, knock. He seemed to enjoy the game as his face changed, showing what he had become - something dominated by the darkness that had gripped his heart.

He picked up a movement. The boy inhaled, his hands resting on his moving chest, and listened to the sounds of the house.

A smile bloomed on his face, and pleased with what he heard, Adrian descended the stairs. Another sound followed, this time somewhere upstairs, and the boy ran in the sound direction. It was nobody on the first floor.

The next sound came from the attic, and Adrian proceeded there, pretty sure that the place was empty.

“So you got help,” he shouted. “No worries, I will find you both.” He concentrated a moment until all the sounds cleared in his head, and he came close to the built-in bedroom dressing. The girl’s breathing was precipitated and plump.

He tugged the door and gaped in the dark. A ghost of a five-year-old girl was trembling as her fragile, translucent body was stuck against the wall. She was sobbing, her eyes covered with her delicate hands.

Adrian gritted his teeth.

“Now, I am pissed off. So I am going to find you, and I am going to kill you.”

A soft movement got his attention. It was just for a second, but enough to track the delicate silhouette’s direction. Gotta ya! He tiptoed in that direction and kept his breath. Then, he rushed upon the girl like a lion on a goat. He pulled Margo’s hair, making the girl’s eyes watery.

“I saw you there, in my brother’s room, all smile and happy, thinking about love and leaving happily ever after. Do you think you are any good for him? Nobody is for Mister perfect. He will disappoint you, as he does with everyone. He loves himself and only himself.”

“Leave me alone,” the girl shrieked and, grabbing the boy’s wrists, pulled them downwards. But realising that she could not escape from his grasp, she stuck her teeth into his skin and chomped.

Flashed by pain, the boy let her go for a moment, and Margo tried to flee. She got him by surprise because no unearthly attacked him until now. He glared at the traces of the girl’s teeth on his arm.

“I had been started seeing ghosts since I was ten,” the boy hissed in Margo’s ear. “One day, we were walking by the lake, and I had slipped in the water. Robert didn’t help; he had just watched as I was drowning. He wanted me to die.”

Enraged and with his face reddened, Adrian grabbed Margo by the neck and throttled it. The girl faced the wall, and with her hands, Margo propelled against it with all the force she had. Adrian’s body was unbalanced for a sec, but the boy continued strangling her. Margo kicked his leg, and, taking advantage of Adrian’s moment of weakness, she rotated, launched her fist straight into his face, and fled without looking back. She had to get to the basement.

The front door opened, and Lionette, followed by Stephionee, entered the grand hall.

“Margo? Honey? Are you here?” Lionette’s voice resonated throughout the entire house. She thought for a moment and jerked to the basement. As the yellow light overflowed, a large room was revealed in front of her eyes. She removed a sophisticated spider web from her coat and descended. Her shoes hit a small part of peeling plaster, and she watched it roll on the sandy floor.

She knew exactly where to look. Her husband’s favourite spot was here in the basement, where he established his workshop. He worked on a worldwide database for historical labyrinths. Labyrinths and mazes fascinated him, and in all his religious travels, he would contact university professors and go to conferences all over the world. He had hundreds of layouts, a hundred per cent identical to the original ones. He dreamed of opening a museum one day.

Lionette breathed the dump air, thinking of the state of her husband’s work; everything could have been ruined after all these years. She pressed the code on the interactive key lock, and the door slid open. As she stepped inside, she felt the wall on her right and pressed the switch. The chamber was enormous; entire arias covered with lines made from artificial green plastic formed elaborated networks.

Here, the air was clean thanks to the elaborate ventilation system. Thus, it was an excellent spot to hide.

“Hello?”

Nothing happened.

“Margo is me, Lionette, your grandmother. I am pretty sure that you know by now that the man that helped you is your granddad. You can ask him about me. He will tell you I am your grandmother.”

The woman expected the answer. The waiting time seemed to expand at an infinite value, but she had patience. Somehow she was convinced the girl was here, hidden. An odd sound resounded from upstairs, and Stephionee left up to see what was happening.

Lionette sat down on a chair forced by her chronic knee pain. She saw short black hair looming from behind one of her late husband’s artwork. The girl looked as Lionette had imagined for years. She got her mother big eyes.

Her teenager body was slim and lean, her complex pale. Her eyes were showing fear and distrust.

Margo wore a black blouse which elongated her thin face and made her look vulnerable. She glared at the woman that she had seen so many times at the Midwinters’ property. Margo knew she was in trouble. She needed help.

“Hi,” she said.

“My love,” Lionette responded, her voice hoarse. She took the girl into her arms; her breath sped up as she felt the girl’s arms surrounding her in search of a warm embrace. “Let’s take you home.”

Back in the house, Stephionee was waiting for them. She sincerely smiled at seeing the girl. Behind her, a door closed. She frowned and moved along the corridor. Lionette took the girl’s hands in hers.