Lady Diress, a woman I hadn’t known, a woman I hadn’t even heard of. So why was I holding an invitation to her funeral in my hand. It was cold, and snow bit my hands and face. I was standing at my mailbox. I felt a cold breath leave my body as I examined the letter thoroughly, it looked expensive.
The letter was a scarlet red with what seemed to be gold plating around the handwritten text that read, “My dear Cordelia Winters, I regret to inform you that your aunt, Lady Scarlett Diress, has passed away. In spite of her death, I would like to let you know that it was painless, and that she died in her sleep at the age of 72. Considering that you are one of her only remaining relatives, I wish to invite you to her funeral. The service will take place at the Church of Light in Lovage, Gardenia. It will start at 6 pm sharp on December 26th. If you can, I advise you to come. There will be a letter of inheritance at the funeral, and it will be held by me until your arrival. - Lovett Diress .”
My eyes widened as I read the last line, inheritance? I didn’t even know I had an aunt let alone inherit something from her death. Who was this “Lovett Diress”? My mind raced with questions but I couldn’t seem to find an answer to any of them.
Lost in thought, I was brought back by someone tapping on my shoulder. I quickly came alert and turned around. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw it was only my girlfriend, Evelyn. “Oh, you scared me.” I said. Evelyn looked down at the letter I was still holding in my hands. “What’s that?” she said as she put an arm around my shoulder. “A letter, my aunt passed away.” Evelyn frowned and said she was sorry for my loss then offered, “You look cold, how about we go inside and talk about this some more before you freeze to death hmm?” I nodded and she led me inside our small cabin, even with the sudden comfort Evelyn provided, I still had an eerie feeling inside after reading that letter, a sense of mystery I just couldn't shake.
Evelyn opened the door for me and I walked into our cabin, taking my jacket off and sitting at the small dining table in the center of our kitchen. Evelyn went and got some tea ready while I sat and stared at the letter I had placed on the table. About five minutes later, Evelyn came and sat a cup of tea down in front of me, sitting down across the table. She looked concerned, after what happened.
Finally, after a few minutes of awkward silence and a few sips of tea she said “I didn’t know you had an aunt.” “Neither did I.” I replied looking up from my hands and into Evelyn's green eyes. “Well..if you want to talk about it, what's going on?” she said, putting her hand on mine.
I let out a shaky breath and said “If I'm being honest I don't know. Should you go to the funeral of a family member you’re not familiar with? Or would it be more respectful to leave it be?” Evelyn’s small smile turned into a more concerned expression. “I think you should go, you might not know her but, she's still family and from what that letter says it seems you might be the only family she has. You wouldn’t want no one to come to your funeral.”
Overwhelmed by it all, I took a sip of tea and then sighed, saying “You're right, you always are. I think I’ll call my mother. Maybe she’s going too? Or she at least knows who this is.” I quickly got up and walked into our bedroom before Evelyn could say anything else, and took out my phone. I dialed in my mothers phone number and called, waiting for her to pick up feeling like eternity. After about two minutes and five calls my mother finally picked up the phone.
“Hello..?” My mother said in her shaky voice. “Cordelia here. I got a letter in the mail today,"I said, curious. I was hoping for some kind of answer even if it was from my mother. “Oh really..What for?” My mother replied, her voice seeming somewhat more shaky and nervous. “A letter from perhaps a distant aunt. Did you get one too?” I said, in a regretful tone. I didn't know why I was calling my mother, I wouldn’t want her coming with me anyways, even if she did have received a letter. “I did not. That's your aunt though, my sister-” my mother replied, her voice getting more frantic with every word. “I had an aunt and you didn’t tell me?” I said, beginning to feel pissed off, not like it was abnormal though. Could she have had her reasons? Maybe.
How could my mother not have told me such a thing? I'm not surprised though, never have been, even if she had reasoning.
My anger was disrupted by my mother saying “Cory, I did this to protect you! Do not go to the funeral! Her family is dangerous there-” I cut her off by quickly saying “You lied to me? Who else did you lie to? Esme? Dad? No, I'm sure they know. It's just me you leave out. Just as you always have.” I said, yelling at my mother. My mother let out a meek “I- you have to understand Cory-”
“No Ma! I am going to the funeral. I don’t think you understand, but this seems to be a recurring problem with you. You cut people out of your life, because they don’t reach your expectations. Just like you did to me. I was a child Ma..” I said sternly, and hung up the phone.
I then sat on my bed and felt a tear go down my cheek. I was so mad, I was so disappointed, I always thought maybe one day Ma would change, but she never has. I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t know what choice to make. That's when thoughts of what Evelyn said drifted through my pool of thought, like a boat in the middle of a vast sea, so dark that you couldn’t see down five feet. That's when the intrusive thought reminded me of my poor girlfriend that had to listen to that fight with my mother.
Overrun with guilt I opened the door and saw Evelyn just sitting there and sipping her tea. I could tell she was a bit scared and shaken up by the screaming so I sat across the table from her once more. She always hated screaming, or arguing. It never failed to upset her. I mean, it's normal to be upset by that but she's always been more.. hysterical if you will. That's when Evelyn acknowledged me and looked up at me, saying in a softer tone than expected “Care to explain?” I almost shamefully looked into the green pools of her eyes, so beautiful, like emeralds. They always glittered, and shone especially under the sunlight. So beautiful, just like her. I smiled.
I then said, “Ev..This morning I got a letter from my aunt. Who apparently my mother has kept from me my entire life. What if I have cousins- I mean you know how my mother is.. That poor woman- ” I was going to continue speaking but, that's when I saw Evelyn's aura, face, and well everything changed from her normal monochrome expression to fear.
She almost seemed like she was shaking. That's when Evelyn looked at me with contempt in her eyes and said “What was your aunt's name again..?” I felt myself getting more and more concerned every second, feeling that eerie feeling again pooling in my gut, threatening to bubble up any second. “It said her name was Scarlett Diress..or Lady Diress. Why?” That's when Evelyn said “N-no it can't be..it's too soon..” I was concerned so I got out of my chair to go to her side and comfort her, she looked like she was about to break down.
“W-what's wrong? What can’t be?” I said, just wanting to know what was so troubling about the situation to her. “Lady Diress, Castle Diress. What does this mean, why would she send it so early!?” I put my arm around Evelyn's shoulder, petting her soft brown hair, whispering comforting words. This was my aunt, why was she so freaked out? I had never seen her act this way. Never seen her so frightened. Even at Halloween last year, or when we watched horror movies. “What..castle? What?”
That's when Evelyn looked at me and paused as if to make up a quick lie. She looked to the left, so she didn’t have to look me in the eye. She then let out a deep breath, her chest heaving as if she was trying to gather all the air she could, worried she would choke, saying, “I grew up in Lovage, a small town near Vansenburg, I never wanted to tell you because a lot went down when I was growing up and I wanted to forget it. Lovage was built in a valley very close to the Diress mountains, where five manors and one huge castle stood at the very top of the mountain, ancient too. Castle Diress everyone called it. A family owned the entire town, which is the Diress family. No one knew their names, except for one, her name was Scarlett and she ruled over the town. She was the one who owned that castle and she controlled everything. She was so awful- nice to us. I'm sorry if I'm so shaken up. I'm just so amazed that the woman who ki- I mean helped me is your aunt. ”
Evelyn then stopped speaking and stared hopefully at me, a lone tear going down her cheek, shining in the light of our kitchen. Evelyn then, while looking at the door said “Cory, go to Gardenia, go to Lovage, and go to that funeral. Please honor her and me. I have something for you.”
She said getting up and going to our bedroom then coming back with a piece of paper, it looked old, yellowed from the years of use it had endured. Her face still looked tormented, and no longer showed the hopefulness it once had, her face looked tormented and regretful. “Here, go to this location and be careful, please.. You need to leave in the morning if you want to get there on time.. December 26th is in a week. Also-” She said going back to our bedroom and coming back with a big black wood crafted box. It was beautiful in a haunting way, with gold plating and wonderful designs.
I happened to notice the one thing that standed out, on the top of the box there was a crest with a red raven. It looked important, a symbol for something. Evelyn handed it to me and then said, “You’ll need this too. I'm sorry I can’t explain more. Go pack. Please don’t let me down.” Evelyn looked into my eyes,
I put the box and the paper down on the table and got up, frantically asking “Why can't you tell me!?..” Evelyn looked up at me with a pitiful expression, almost like she was guilty of something horrific. The kind of look a killer would give after a brutal murder, as she said, “Oh, Cory, you wouldn’t understand. You will know in time but, it's yours to find out. I have to go to work now but, read the paper, pack, and be safe. I also must say farewell now because I feel I won't be seeing you when I get back. I love you.” She said, kissing me on the forehead, then slowly trailing her lips down to mine.
She kissed me passionately, cupping my jaw in her hands. Her hands were warm against my jaw and her lips lingered against mine for a good few moments. Skin against skin, though not inherently sexual at all. She kissed me deeper, her lips wet, as she pulled away. Almost as if this was the last time she would ever get to kiss me. She put her forehead on mine. We stayed like that for at least five minutes. Even then, I could feel the powerfulness the moment held. Evelyn then pulled away, and quickly grabbed her car keys and put on her coat, then looked at me one last time. I could hear her sobbing as she closed the door, and watched as she walked to her car.
I continued to sit, and looked over the tea that was now cold. I was stunned. Evelyn, doesn’t have work today. So why did she leave? Was the situation too much for her? What was so bad that happened, that she’d need to leave, and why did she say she was going to work. She knows I know her schedule.
That's when I looked down at the paper, the old paper that Evelyn had given me. It felt like it was going to tear in the embrace of my hands, brittle, and old. I then looked at what it said on the paper. I saw the words “Howlwind station, 2434, 1845. Silence mother. 20 dollars for a ticket, 4 day trip, and don't be late. 2 am sharp, Carlenstown, in the well by the beauty that kills.” What the hell was that..? What did that mean, and what is “Howlwind station”. How had I never heard of it before? Why do I need a riddle to get to Lovage? That seems odd doesn’t it? None of this makes any sense. If I am crazy enough to go, with all these red flags, then I’d get to Carlenstown at around ten. Why would I go? To believe I was even considering it. Fuck it. I guess it's time to start packing.
I let out a deep breath and set the paper down on the table. I got up and went to Evelyn and I’s bedroom where I went to our closet and looked for a suitcase. I rummaged inside for quite some time when I found an old suitcase, instead of my brand new one. It was a leather suitcase and looked torn and old, yet still looking expensive. It looked straight out of an old film, and was all old money wanted to be. I picked it up and put it on Evelyn and I’s bed. I opened it, which was difficult because the metal was rusty and brittle. It felt like it almost broke when I got it open.
There were several turned over, old looking photos and then a piece of paper tucked in one of the pockets. I took the note from the pocket, opened it and then saw in Evelyn's messy handwriting, “Hello Cory, I knew you’d find this. Take advantage of this suitcase and don't look at the photos just yet, for if you do, it cannot be undone. I love you. -Love, Evelyn”
What the fuck..? Evelyn didn’t have time to set something like this up today. She knew I would be going? She knew this funeral was going to happen but she is not a member of my family, and that's a fact. So how the fuck did she know. What does all of this mean? Was she involved somehow? I don’t know but, I trust Evelyn's judgment. I don’t think she'd put me in any harm, at least not purposefully. Now, I fear I must have to trust Evelyn's judgment, for it is all I have at the moment. She is all I have. My parents hate me, my sisters in France. She’s all I have and I have nothing to lose. I let out a sigh, looking at my feet, thinking.
Evelyn grew up there so she knows the place better than I do and I’ve never seen her act like that. More importantly, I’ve never seen her react in such a way. The way she looked at me.. It was like she commited a crime. So, I'm going to use that suitcase and I'm going to go to Lovage. Anything to make her happy. I got up and packed some clothes, toiletries, and the box Evelyn gave me. I then struggled, but got the suitcase to close and went into the kitchen turning off the only light in the house and put the suitcase down so I could put on my jacket.
I grabbed the suitcase and grabbed my keys. With the paper and the suitcase in hand I opened the door and left into the cold snow, closing the door behind me. I then got into my red truck and put my suitcase in the back before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. As I drove I watched Evelyn and I’s get smaller and smaller. I remember when we bought it together, five months ago.
When we saw that cabin we knew it was meant to be ours. It was so small but it was charming. The location was perfect too, just next to a large pine forest, and super close to town as well. It was made completely of cedar, and it had a cobblestone fireplace. It was just the perfect home for us, now and after we got married. So, even though we were struggling with money, we bought it. I can still remember how unbelievably excited Evelyn was for us to have our own place. Just ours and only ours. I smiled at the remembrance. I drove on and watched the frost covered pine tree’s of our town slowly drift away into a white nothingness. All was white for as far as the eye could see. I almost felt like I was in a dream. The kind of dream where you can’t tell if it's a dream or your worst nightmare.
It was like that for four hours of driving, just seeing white and the gloomy highway in the night. During the duration of those four hours, I thought about colors but, also, about her. Her.
I’ve always loved colors, red, yellows, greens, blues, all of them. Maybe that's why I became an artist. I’d always loved drawing, ever since I was very young. Art has always been my passion, and with art does come some bad memories along with the good ones. My parents had always been so disappointed in me, always said I had wasted potential or something. Although, out of all the things, I feel the most damaging to my parents' image of me was after high school. When I decided I no longer wanted to go to college and that I just wanted to pursue my dream to be an artist.
The night I told them that, they lashed out and told me I’d never live up to their expectations, and that I was a huge waste of time, unlike my sister. My sister, Esme, was always my parents favorite. My parents always favored her, and thought she could do no wrong.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
My entire childhood I was always competing with her, just wanting my parents to love and appreciate me but, no matter how hard I tried, in the end I never received what I wanted. In turn, my self-esteem has always been very low. Even though my sister has been the cause of my constant suffering, I don't blame her for it. None of it was ever her fault and yet, why do I kind of hate her. She was always more classy, more beautiful. I could just never be her.
A year after moving away from my parents, their hatred, heavy on my heart, I met Evelyn. I met her at a library in my hometown. I was looking for my favorite poetry book so I could read it yet again. I was in the fifth aisle, where it always was. There just so happened to be a beautiful woman looking for the same book. I remember her as clear as day. Her soft, dark brown bob is perfectly styled. She was in one of her vintage dresses as purple one that went below her knees. It had a white floral print. She was much shorter than me. She always has had to go on her toes to kiss me. She asked me where the book was and we ended up talking all day.
We soon fell in love. Evelyn has always been my favorite person. The only person who understood me, and cared for me. Maybe that's why I fell for her as hard as I did. Why I fell in love with her so deeply. Maybe that's why until today I hadn’t realized that she had never told me of her parents, or where she was from. Though, I guess, someone like me would forget. I can forget many things just to make someone stay.
Though, perhaps that's why I'm feeling so worried. Part of me wants to believe that what just happened wasn’t odd at all, that it's totally normal for Evelyn to act in such a way. Part of me also knows that I would do anything for her, even if it means risking my life. Or harming someone else, anything really. At Least that's what it feels like.
That's when I saw a huge golden colored sign that had mountains and trees in the background with a lumberjack holding an axe. The sign read “Welcome to Carlenstown!”. Finally, after four hours of driving I was here. I could barely feel my feet at this point and my hands were cramping. I looked at my truck's clock that read 11:43 p.m.
I figured I had enough time to make a stop at a gas station, I needed gas anyways. I looked into the dimly lit, lone roads of Carlenstown. The atmosphere felt even more ominous because of the fog that had rolled in from the mountains, mixing with the darkness of the night.
I drove further and turned right onto a dark street stricken with fog, which is where I saw a gas station. It looked like any other gas station, bright lights, ads, vending machines. I turned into the parking lot and stopped the truck, taking out the keys and putting them in my pocket, before opening the door and getting out. I then closed the door and locked my truck.
I heard the patter of my work boots echo as I walked up to the door and into the gas station, the door making a jingle noise when I walked inside. I saw a very tired teenager at the cashier, and fully stocked shelves. They were looking at their phone, the blue light shining on their face even in the light of the store. I then diverted my attention to the wall fridges at the back of the store.
I walked over and looked at the tea they had available. I then grabbed some peach tea from the fridge in front of me and went to the cashier to buy it. The half asleep teenager at the cashier opened his eyes and looked up from his phone, then unenthusiastically said “Hello, what do you need..?” I let out a small smile and slid my peach tea across the counter. The teenager took it and rang it up, then saying “That’ll be $2.00.”
I gave the teenager the money and he handed me my receipt, I then took my peach tea and left. I could hear my steps echo as I opened the door and left the gas station, retreating to my car. It was very cold at this hour of the night, the ominous setting making the whispers and dark figures I saw seem much more eerie than they usually would be. I got in my red truck turning on the heater, for I could feel the temperature dropping by the minute. I let out a deep breath when I finally felt the warm air coming from the heater in my car, brushing against my skin.
I then sat in my seat and looked out my car window, opening my peach tea and taking a sip. My eyes then trailed to my dashboard, which took me out of my moment of peace and back into reality. Sitting there was the paper Evelyn had given me 6 hours prior. I picked it up and looked at its aging qualities. The paper still looked as old as it did the first time I saw it. I then remembered the riddle, “In the well by the beauty that kills.” Even on the 4 hour drive, I had yet to come up with anything. Any idea as to what the answer might be. I was too busy contemplating my life to think of that. Why am I doing this anyways? For a split moment, I thought about Carlenstown. I’d only been here a few times in my life, so I didn’t know the area very well. In the end, how was I supposed to solve this?
I thought that perhaps this would all be easier if I knew someone who knew their way around here. What would I ask them though? I thought for a few moments before I came to a semi- conclusion. My first thought about the riddle was maybe a poisonous flower, so maybe I'll lead on that thought for now. Who should I ask though? Maybe the cashier in the gas station? I'm sure he lives here. I nodded to myself in assurance that that was a good idea. I quickly got gas, then parked, and locked my truck before walking back to the gas station.
I opened the door and walked inside, speed walking to the cashier I had seen ten minutes ago. The cashier looked up at me with tired eyes and gloomily said,
“ Oh, it's you again. What do you want?” Feeling the anxiety of the situation and my mental and physical exhaustion come out to play, I replied, “You live here right? Could you possibly help me with something?” I was all of a sudden reminded of my social anxiety that dulled but still prevailed into my adulthood. The cashier said “Sure, what do you need? Make it quick please, my shift ends soon and I want to get home.” He said, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I guess you could say I'm trying to solve a riddle. ” The cashier didn’t exactly seem impressed with my answer.
He then said “ You? Trying to solve a riddle? Yeah, sure lady.” I frowned and said, “I am, and I desperately need help. I can’t think of a single thing.” I said, frowning, why did I think a teenager would help me anyways. The teenager laughed lightly and said, “Fine, I’ll help you. Or I can try at least, just please, calm down, you look like you're going to cry. Now what is this riddle?” “ Well, it has to do with ‘A beauty that kills’ and some numbers..”
The cashier replied looking annoyed, “and what are these numbers?” I yawned, not used to being up this late. Maybe I should have bought an energy drink instead of tea. “Uhm, let me look.” I pulled out the paper. “2434, 1845. Do you have any idea what perhaps it could mean?”
The cashier thought for a moment. “Well, do you have any idea what the beauty that kills could be?” “Yes! I thought perhaps a poisonous flower, are there any local to the area?”
The cashier put a pinger to his chin and then sighed. “Well yes, but I don’t think that's it. That's too obvious. I think it must be something more..poetic. What did you say those numbers were again?” “2434, 1845. Ring any bells?” I asked hopefully.
“Well, I could be wrong but, here in Carlenstown there is an old tale, and since you stated the numbers 2434 and 1845. I think I may have found what we're looking for.” “What is it?” I asked in anticipation. Then suddenly realizing how stupid all this must seem to this kid.
“There was a lady born to a wealthy family, her name was Scarlett. At the time, her father was the mayor of this town. Scarlett was to marry a rich man from another county, but her heart belonged to someone else. Her true love was John Carlen, a poor man. Scarlett's father told her to stay away from him, as he wasn't good for her. Despite the warning, she decided to wait a week before running away with him because that would be the day John would be back from another town. A few days into that week, sadly her father died. She inherited all the wealth and this very town. After her fathers death John came back early, she was suspicious but loved him so she decided to brush it off. She married him, and a week later he shot her straight in the heart and took her money and soon became mayor of this town. He later named it after himself as well. She was 24, he was 34, and she died in 1845. There is a well near the area where it is said she was buried. On mountain Zeuluch, at the lovers' lookout. You'll find it there, I believe. I mean it makes sense. Love, being the beauty that kills and all``
My face brightened and I enthusiastically said, “Thanks! I'll go there right now!” I then left the gas station smiling and went to my car, I got in and looked up directions to the lovers lookout, and started driving towards it. On the way there, I thought that it was odd that the teenager helped me. He had no reason to. Yet he did, and he knew exactly where to go. That's peculiar is it not? I got there around ten minutes later. 12:15. There was no one at the lookout, and it was pitch black outside, it was on a cliff, with a clearing and a forest behind it. I grabbed my phone, my suitcase and a flashlight.
I turned the flashlight on, and locked my car before going into the nightmarish forest that looked like it was straight out of a grim fairy tail. I figured I should be scared, or questioning all this more, but I wasn’t. Maybe it was the thrill of a mystery, or something pulling me, with instances too perfect to be coincidental.
The trees seemed to be bending around me as I walked deeper and deeper into the forest, shining light on my surroundings looking for what I was apparently supposed to be looking for. Around 20 minutes into looking, I found a clearing in the woods, where the moon seemed brighter. The dirt I was walking on got softer, and I could see the sky.
The clearing wasn’t big, and there were two things that definitely stood out. To the right there was a poorly made gravestone with the name ‘Scarlett Carlen’. So the cashier was right, she was buried here. Poor girl. I looked closer and saw something sticking out of the newly soft soil. As if someone had disrupted it, in its slumber. When I was able to make out what it was in the darkness, I was taken aback. I walked away from it, and sat down having to process what I had just seen.
After feeling dread, for a few moments, after seeing it. I looked up from my hands, and I looked at it again. There was a skeleton hand and arm sticking out from the ground, its index finger pointing towards the ominous woods, with a small metal ring on its ring finger. I felt like I was going to vomit, for it looked so real. It made the situation I;d been trying so hard to underplay, real, and it was terrifying. I’d never seen human bones in my life. It was a dreadful sight. I suddenly felt terrified when I realized someone had to mutilate this body, someone had to have been here. With that thought, I was worried, someone would do such a thing to a dead body is not someone I want to be alone in the woods with. I stood there for a moment taking in my surroundings, and listening. Now because of the fear that was struck upon me I was frantically looking at all the trees.
The trees were lit by the milky moonlight of the waning moon above me. I did notice though that there was a path of rose petals. There weren't a lot of them, just a few bright red petals spread in a straight line. I quickly decided to follow them, could I die? Most definitely, but adrenaline is no joke and I had not much regard for what could be on the other end nor my life. I walked along the petal path slowly, the ground crunching under my feet. I went deeper and deeper into the forest until I came to a well. It was made of old stone, moss covered it and there was a dim light at the bottom. Which looked to come from a lantern, burning into the night.
There was a ladder leading down into the well. I quickly took Evelyn's note out of my jacket and read “In the well by the beauty that kills..” This has to be it! I felt myself grabbing the ladder when realization hit me. This could be a setup.
The teenager, Evelyn, it was all too.. Coincidental to be an accident. It just seems too..perfect. Maybe I shouldn't be doing this. This has to be a trap. That's when I heard crunching from behind me, and heavy breathing.
A shiver went down my spine as I felt their hot breath against my neck. I quickly turned my head around and saw a dark brown bob. I heard a woman's voice all too familiar that said “I'm sorry, Cory.” A tear went down her cheek as she cupped my jaw, and kissed me, it was soft and sweet. No tongue in sight, the kind of kiss, you’d never forget. I could feel her hot tears on my face, wetting my cheeks and the kiss conveyed everything it needed too. Betrayal, concern, love even. It was possibly the most emotional kiss I’d ever had, and possibly the last time I’d ever get to kiss Evelyn's soft lips again. I cupped her jaw with my hand and kissed her back. I heard her tears when I did so. She was sobbing. Then she pulled away, and punched me so hard that the whole world spinned.
Through blurry vision I saw those eyes. Those emerald eyes. I'll never forget the look of disgust and contempt that they held.
When I woke up again, my white shirt was covered in blood and I was on a train. My left cheek throbbed and my lip had broken open. My phone was gone, the only things left on my person being my suitcase. I was dizzy, I was going in and out of consciousness, when finally my vision stabilized. The train looked a century old, not like any train I had ever been on. There was no one else in the car I was sitting in, I quickly opened my suitcase and made sure everything was there, everything was but, there was a note at the very bottom. I picked it up and read, ‘Good Job Cory, You’ve made it. I'm so sorry.. I love you, and that makes this all the much harder. -Evelyn’
What the hell. The memories came back, as to why my face hurt so badly. That's when I realized, On the end of the car, above the door to another train car, it read, ‘Howlwind station’. So I made it? Why was kidnapping necessary, and why did my girlfriend, and fiance, knock me out, and lie to me. Evelyn wouldn’t have done this. She loved me, or at least I thought. What happened, what is going to happen to me. This isn’t normal, it can’t be. Am I going to be enslaved, trafficked? Murdered even? I don’t want to die.
If I am going to die, then why would Evelyn knowingly put me into this situation. Why would she knowingly put me, a lamb to the slaughter. Did they brainwash Evelyn, who are they? Is that invitation even real? What is this station, and why? Why would she do this to me?
I looked at the box Evelyn had given me, in my suitcase. Maybe that had answers? I picked it up and opened it, admiring the woodwork. What was inside, I wasn’t expecting. Inside the beautiful black box, was a black revolver, and on the handle laid that crest with a red crow in the middle.
A revolver? Fully loaded. Evelyn looked so scared when she gave it to me. So she did know she was practically sending me off to die. So then why, did she give me this.
That's when the realization hit and it hit hard. I don’t know where I'm being taken, but it definitely isn’t safe. This revolver isn't useless.
It's Evelyn's hope, and last attempt to give me a chance to survive. Which means that I am going to die, unless I can stop it. I’ve never shot a gun before, I'm not sure if I could.
I then remembered what my mother said and realized that she was telling the truth. She didn’t want me to go for good reason. That means that her family are in fact, dangerous, so dangerous that I've been given a gun to protect myself. Though this also means that it is true that Scarlett is my aunt, and this may be a trap to lure me in. No it isn’t a maybe, it is a trap, for sure, and I walked right into it. Blind as a bat.
I looked around, taking in my surroundings once more. There was a train car in front and in back of the one I'm sitting in. I got up, wincing when I felt my still throbbing face pulse and the movement. I put my hand up to it, as I looked through both windows. No one, not a single soul in either car. Which means, I'm alone, no that can’t be. I'm not alone, I just think I am. Someone has to be watching me, to make sure that I dont escape.
I sat back down and remembered the paper in my pocket. I took it out, and tried to find how long the trip on this train would be. “Four days!” I said to myself. That's a long trip. If this is a night train then there must be beds somewhere. I should explore. I got up, leaving my suitcase behind as I looked around. Near the window to the car in front of mine, was a small bunk bed. There was also a bathroom of sorts next to it.
I went back and brought my suitcase to the bottom bunk. I now needed to find some food, and water. I have to think, there’s gotta be food somewhere here. Whoever is behind this, went through a lot of trouble to get me here. Is Evelyn still here? From what I saw it seems that this train is important somehow. Maybe, if I look hard enough, I can find Evelyn and get answers.
I got side tracked, and hesitantly walked to the door of the train car in the front of me. The car looked just as old, and lavish as mine did. Infact, they looked almost identical. I turned the door knob, and then walked in. As I explored, I realized that there were far more cars than just three.
As I looked into the window on the door, into the other car, I saw that there were many more. Not one, had anyone inside, and definitely not Evelyn. I decided to go back to the car I woke up in.
Interestingly enough other than the windows on the doors to another car, there is not a single window to the outside.
So, without a clock or anything else, I don’t have a single way of knowing what time it is, and where I am. Eventually I did find canned food and water in a small storage space above the seats. Which was a big relief.
For the next few days, I thought mostly. I tried to remember every small detail of my relationship with Evelyn. Dissected everything that happened that night, trying to find something. Anything even, that could tell me why she would do something like that.
The only reason that made sense, would be that evelyn was pressured or threatened. I tried to suppose, anything Evelyn said or did, that would make it all make sense. It still didn’t make sense. Would it ever?
On the last day, the train slowed down a bit. We were reaching our destination, I knew it. Was I still being taken to Lovage, wherever that is? I'd never heard of the place. So many things were going through my head, so many questions that would be left unanswered, even after the incident. I tried to brace myself for what was to come, little did I know, I could never have imagined what was to come.
I was asleep when the train finally stopped. Its horn shouting out, I could hear the steam releasing into the air. The door on the right side of the car I was in, opened. I wiped my eyes over with my hand, sitting up. I looked across the car at the now open door and felt a shiver go down my spine. My nerves were shot and I inhaled shakily.
I didn’t want to know what was on the other side of the door. My gut was screaming at me to run, leave, do anything really, except leave this train car. Though, I had no choice. I really didn't have anywhere else to go. My only way out was that door. What happened to having no regard for my life?
Has it changed so suddenly, when faced with survival. My body was shaken up, but I still got up, packed some water and food into my suitcase and sighed. Bracing myself for whatever was going to happen. I packed the revolver at the very bottom of my suitcase, hoping that if someone went through my bag they wouldn’t find it. As I did so, my hand brushed against a photograph.
I almost forgot they were there. I remembered what Evelyn said , ‘Don’t look at the photos just yet, for if you do, it cannot be undone.’ Regardless of what that liar said, now seems like a good time to look at them. I brushed my thumb against the photo, brittle, and old. It felt like it would tear, or even disintegrate if I held it too hard. I slowly turned it over, and what I saw changed everything.
I gasped, as I looked upon a family portrait, in crisp black and white. There was a tall woman in fashionable attire, tall, and pale. She looked to be young, in her thirties maybe, and she looked almost exactly like me.
Her nose was a bit pointier, and her eyes more hollow and dark than mine but, she was most definitely, my relative. There were three teenage girls, sitting so still and with perfect posture. One had light hair, just like the older woman. Her eyes were light too. She was wearing a fancy dress, it was chic, but classy. She had a bow in her hair, and she too had eyes that looked lifeless.
The other two girls had dark hair. One had her hair down to her waist, and she was dressed in the same chic, classy dress the other was. Her eyes were hollow, looking aimlessly at the camera. Her hands bunched into fists. I looked at the other girl and my heart froze. She had dark hair, and it was cut short, into a clean cut bob. Her nose was slightly upturned like Evelyn’s. They had the same plump lips, and eyes unlike no other. Her hair was the darkest, and her features stood out. Unlike all the others, her features, like evelyns, were asian. Taiwanese to be specific. Or at least that's what Evelyn had told me.
I’d know those eyes anywhere, those emerald eyes. I could see them through the photo even in black and white, how they shine and glisten. Her eyes were filled with contempt, just like how she looked at me before she left. Filled with disgust. So why, just why, is she trying so hard to keep me alive? I felt a tear go down my cheek, in frustration, fear, anxiety, everything.
I frantically turned over the photo and I saw writing, it wasn’t Evelyn's for sure. The handwriting was much too clean and proper to be hers. She also never writes in cursive. In such perfect dialect and writing I saw, ‘Scarlett, Lovett, Abett, and Evelyn Diress. -1933.’ Evelyn, is Scarletts, daughter? It all makes sense now, why Evelyn knew that letter was going to be sent, how she knew everything. This was all a setup. All to get me to come here?