Lucie said nothing more to me that day, still her final words had a found a firm place in my mind, lending itself to another sleepless night.
For more than the first time I began to contemplate how well I knew Lucie. She had, as she grew older, become smart and cunning. I was fairly certain I carried no blood relation to the DeLune family.
Or had I simply convinced myself so ?
For years I have been obsessed with forgetting my past. Yet,
residing in the house, in this town I was reaching to remember.
embbraced - PC
+1+
The contractors came the next morning, they were discreet
and unexpected. Their work was quick and simple, Only Mrs. Beck was alarmed as to why I was building a 30 ft
gate around the house with matching grates around the windows. I assured her
it was to keep out the vandal who had massacred my dogs. The woman did not appear convinced but I looked past it.
It took only a matter of hours before the structure was complete. The gate was shined to almost silver, it loomed around the house as if it were a wall. The gate door remained open, it swung back and forth and although it was new it still made a haunting sound.
Lucie was pleased with the gate, in truth it was not
designed to keep people out but in. 
After the gates were secured I found Lucie was waiting for me in the living room, she had delicately taken apart an empty box of playing cards. She walked around in half circles as if to speak but remained silent.
“Can I trust you ?”, she finally asked.
“What have you done now?”
“Nothing”, I had offended her, “It's just. . .I do care for Clara, I want her to be apart of us. Can I trust you . . . alone with her? You know what I will do if you let her escape. You saw what happened to those animals”
I began to once again see how Lucielle hated the position she had put herself in, she was desperate like a man waving a gun. I saw this.
“Lucille”. I attempted to comfort her, "Where are you going ?"
“I can't tell you--I’m sorry”, she said, “This is how it has to be for now, can I trust you ?”
“Yes”, I agreed, only partially for Lucie’s sake.
I turned to the dining room, expecting Lucie to follow me. Instead she had fallen out of my line of sight, I looked down to discover her body on the floor. She had fallen quite gracefully it was then that I noticed the wedding band on her hand.
+++
I tapped my fork against the wine glass, waiting for her to wake up, her unconscious form was laid across the chair. Her arms and legs were covered by the dark fabric of her dress. I was tempted to check her pulse though I dared not touch her.
She stirred slightly, most likely expecting to be in the Black Room. Her eyes opened wide with fear, looking around before resting on me.
“Ms. DeLune”, I greeted her.
She began to rub her eyes. She appeared tired, confused, lonely even.
“Please-let me go”
“I’m not holding you here”
She looked around in confusion I’d assumed she had put the situation together but in the course of the month she had only been conscious for 14 hours.
Ms. DeLune stood awkwardly from the chair, looking at me as if I were the devil in person. She stumbled toward the back door. I knew it was locked and waited for her to come back.
She ambled back into the room, falling at my feet, she was crying and had ruined the makeup that had decorated her face.
“Open the door, please”, she begged, “Let me go home”
She sat up on her knees pulling at the lapels of my jacket, I was forced to look at her. I had theorized it many times and it had proven to be true. Ms. DeLune had the same eyes and pronounced features of her grandfather. To see her cry and beg was very, I hoped, similar to Roger.
“Sit”, I softly ordered her,' I doubt you are in any position to make orders."
She found her way back to her chair and stared at me. She managed to pick up her fork and eat while continuing to cry at the same time.
“Follow me”, I said standing up and taking her into my office
She followed me to my office and sat in a chair in the corner. Dark thoughts aside I wondered what I was supposed to do with her that would please Lucie
“If you disobey you will be placed back in your room, you
must not try and leave”, I warned. I could only imagine Lucie dragging her back, or the punishment she would be given.
“Please don’t hurt me. . . we can talk about this”
She began to cry again and when she had finally quieted I gently explained the extremities of her situation. Her eyes grew wide there was no doubt that she had felt violated to some degree but I was simply the messenger.
The news of her disappearance was quickly spreading and fading at the same time. I left out this part out.
"Is she here ? right now”, she asked
"I don’t think so, but I would not undermine her influence”
“What if I don’t want to play along ?”, she asked, “What if I’m not as weak as you—“
“My actions have only been for your benefit.” I considered this, “Do you not love your grandmother ?”
She sat back in her chair, now realizing why she was in the clothing she was wearing.
“When I was six I knocked over one of her collectible Angels. I was more upset than she was and Grandpa told me I could play on his piano so I would stay out of trouble. He thought I’d make some noise and get bored. But when I heard those keys and those sound and it all came together for me. Grandpa told me I was special, he taught me keys and songs I had such a wonderful time"
She relaxed a little, laughing at her own memory
“I didn’t realize that every hour he spent at my house teaching me was an hour away from grandma. I didn’t realize that he only smiled when we played, I didn’t know he used me to get away from his problems.”
She sunk further into the chair.
“I thought Grandpa loved her, so I loved her. I brought her presents , went shopping and helped her decorate. I even became a teacher like she did. I loved her because I thought it would make Grandpa happy. . . that’s so terrible, oh please don’t tell her.”
“Will you love her to make me happy ?”, I asked
“No”, she took offense, “I have a life to live. I have—had an audition I have things I want to do. I can’t stay in this house forever”
“I fear we don’t have a choice.”
“We can’t possibly be the family she want us to be.”
I nodded in agreement
“Why”, she asked, “why would she do this”
“Something I’ve always realized it that when you get rid of everything else all we have is love, who we love . . .
“I won’t let her use me”, she protested
“Please”, I spoke quickly, “stop crying. . . it’s not pleasant”
Or at least it should have been.
The dizzying circumstances that had lead her here had taken place years before she was born and they all began with the absolved crime her grandfather had committed. If only she could direct her anger at the correct ancestor.
Somewhat recovered she walked to the window behind my desk, and peered out the window. We were 10 miles from the main land. The trees had overgrown to cover the view of the Lake, leaving the house almost in complete isolation.
Hurt - Pianoo
+2+
Clara
For the first time I was able to see beyond the confines of the Black Room, only now to let my eyes fall upon the gate locking me in. It was mid afternoon but the skies were dark the glass was cold beneath my hands and I almost felt bad for smearing the glass.
I berated myself for crying earlier. My last words to Mr. Thorpe had been silly babble of a girl who dependent on her Daddy for everything and let reality wash over her entirely unnoticed.
Why did I want him to love me ?
Maybe because he reminded me of my father ?
I turned at the thought and realized I was alone. It was still cold and I felt and heard something coming for me.
My life and body weren't mine but maybe they never were
+++
Control
I reached and grasped for it but it was beyond my reach. I would find myself thrust into darkness and wake up in some part of the house with little recollection of how or why I was there. It was as if I were constantly in a drunken stupor.
Nonetheless this place, this house is still a prison.
I never questioned Mr. Fierro as to where she went, for the most part Lucie kept him as much in the dark as me. Sometimes she was gone for a few hours or until the sunset. There were times I could feel her watching me it was unnerving to say the least.
Lucie had also began to make small changes to who I was.
My hair was shorter and straightened, my skin lacked its sunkissed glow. I
studied my reflection for a long time before I realized my ears had been pierced with Chanel earrings.
I moved from the numerous mirrors in the hall and down the stairs, it was quiet but I knew I wasn’t alone. There was a certain warmth to the air that let me know Lucie wasn’t there.
Once again I tried opening ever door I cam across but they refused to open, the windows were the same. Frustrated I went into the kitchen and picked up a chair from the breakfast nook and forced the wooden legs into the window.
It shattered, a bit to loudly. I was certain Mr. Fierro would have heard it in his office.
Working fast I reached through the jagged glass to unlock the window from the outside. My wrist got caught inbetween the bars outside the window. I pulled hard to twist it free, regretting my stupidity but still reaching for the lock.
“God”, I hissed in pain and began to panic.
My wrist became caught in the jagged edged of the window, the sight blood made me light-headed. The adrenaline was making me unsteady and I reached my other hand in to pull the first free. My blood spilled down my arms and dripped onto the marble counter tops.
“Ms. DeLune”
"Stay away from me.", I had to get out of here.
I began to shout towards the open window hoping someone would hear me, He attempted to pick me up but I fought back kicking in the window with my foot. I screamed as loud as I could. Still he dragged me up the stairs and I collapsed on the floor of the room.
“What did I tell you about trying to escape?”
I took a moment to catch my breath.
“She’s in pain isn’t she ?”, I said, my throat was sore from screaming, “You see the pain Lucie is in and you are trying to help her, but you let her torture me in this room without so much a word."
“Ms.DeLune”, he said, “I believe you Grandmother is, in her own way, trying to keep you safe.”
“Grandmother ? she is just Lucie now, and what in God's name could she protecting me from ?”
“Lucie told me you were supposed to die, perhaps you still are.”
“Yes, by her hand”
“You do not believe she wants to protect you ?”
“No, I think you’re both insane”
He didn’t seem hurts by my accusation but moved threateningly towards me, before stepping back he returned with a first aid kit, I cleaned up my hands. I could feel his eyes on me but I concentrated on making the bleeding stop.
"Mr. Fierro, I need a favor", I finally said.
"Certainly", his politeness came off as being smug
I opened the piano top and reached between the keys for a piece of paper. It was a letter I had written and read over a thousand times.
"It's a letter for my parents, it says that I have taken sanctuary at Il Gardenia to get away from marrying Mr. Thorpe.It's a convent in Italy. . . please. I don't want them to worry about me."
He took the letter, but never delivered it.
The next Sunday morning I once again attempted to escape.
The door to the Black Room was opened so I moved to sit in the hallway with my eyes closed listening to the lake, hoping to catch the sound of someone calling my name, or police sirens in the distance.
My silence was interrupted by the a mummer of male voices and my eyes shot open.
Who was he talking too ? My father ? Peter ?
Such silly thoughts
I crept down the quiet stairs and listened as I heard an unfamiliar male voice, speaking gently in a stream of conscious words. The doors to the living room were partial closed.
There were two chairs across from each other. Mr Fierro sat in one a man in a dark suit and tie sat in the other. Looking closer I realized they were both reading bibles.
It was strange, even considering, but the only thing I could think about was how this man could save me. Certainly he had read the papers, it wouldn’t matter what Mr. Fierro or Lucie would do to me because someone was bound to remember seeing me here
I knocked on the living room door and heard one of the bibles fall to the floor, slipping into the room I attempted to make eye contact with the man. The man’s eyes were a dull brown and he only looked at me quickly
My boldness surprised Mr. Fierro, I expected him to drag me from the room and lock me away but that would look suspicious. I had to say something without saying anything at all. I spoke first.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, I just became so lonely playing my piano”
I made eye contact with the man
Remember me, please.
“Who is this ?”, the man asked extended a kind hand, there was no note that he recognized me."My name is Cla--"
“A family friend”, Mr. Fierro answered curtly, “You should go to your room, now”
I gave the man one last lingering look and ran upstairs, wishing I could barricade myself in the room. He would never wish to betray his beloved Lucie and would surely make me pay the price for disobeying her rules.
God, how I hated this.
I waited for him to finally come up to my room.
“what do you think you were doing ?”
“Trying to get free”, I told him, “or have you forgotten that you have kidnapped me.”
“I have done no such thing. I doubt Reverend Allan will recognize you”
“ Reverend ? I didn’t realize you were so religious.”
“I was raised by Plain people, he shut the door and changed the subject, “Listen Ms. DeLune you are not to tell Lucie about Reverend Allan. I fear she would not approve."
"Lucie loved going to church and showing off her new jewels."
"I believe it was the lifestyle she didn't approve of."
"Is that you never left. . . before ?", I pushed my limits but he appeared to be in a rare mood to talk.
"Yes, I suppose. Except for the trips to the library to meet Lucie."
Suddenly the conversation took a turn I didn't particularly like, I felt this impeding weight full of what I didn’t know about him, everything I learned seemed to pieces things together while creating more questions. Either way I remained silent
+3+
After lunch I found myself sitting across from Mr. Fierro with a a chess board
perched on a lazy susan between us. The chess pieces had already been set up and till recently I believed the board to be a type of decoration, each piece was made of heavy brass or pewter the board was a light marble
The room itself was filled with antique and modern furniture, there was a large TV in the room, it was unplugged and likely to have never been touched, the same went for the white mac book in the corner.
This was a house of illusions and we were the main attraction.
"It's not fair you know", I said, "You seem to literally know an awful lot about me, I don't really know anything about you."
"Hardly seems like something I should be concerned with.", he was so cold.
"Do you still love her ? Lucie.", I didn't expect an answer
I heard one of the pieces move and looked down at the board.
Mr. Fierro had moved one of the pieces. I stared at the board for a while.
“I don’t know how to play”, I said.
“Then you will lear—“
“I don’t want to learn how to play. How can you not understand how absurd this is?”
“I understand perfectly well.” he lied
“You don’t Mr. Fierro, but if you did you would realize what a small man you are. She may never let us leave this house but at least I’ve literally seen the world. Unlike you i’ve seen beyond this desolate piece of land and even with this second chance you likely never will. Why do you continue to stand by her ?”
"When Lucielle and I were wed simple words and vows did not bind us together—we bound ourselves
together. I will not allow those bonds to be easily broken."
“I was so foolish, to think you would ever love me.”
He blinked once at my words and further concentrated on the
chess board.I was tempted to knock the entire board over but instead turned and headed for the stairs.
As I approached the third step I became distracted as the front door slowly creaked opened. I didn't even consider the consequencs, real freedom was on the other side.
I ran.
I ran straight towards the gate. How long had it been since I felt real fresh air, it was bitter sweet. I almost ran into the gate, the cold bars entwined between my fingers.
"Help ! Help me. . .", I shouted to no avail.
A cruel trick
I continued to shout till an ebbing air of terror and absolute horror ran through the air, I couldn't escape it I couldn't escape her. I tried to runaway but I was like a rat in a cage.
I heard her laughter.
Everything faded to black.
+++
I found myself in an unfamiliar place.
A large lavish suite with bright beige and gold furniture, it smelled sweet like powder and musk
It was warm and sunny and a look outside the window showed the narrow rustic streets of Rome. A calling card on the nightstand showed the address for Westin Excelsior Rome.
"Rome ?"
Had I awoken from a terrible nightmare ?
I was curiously dressed in an elegant nightgown fitted with lace and embodied with lustrous beads.
I turned back to the view of the Via down below, pressing my fingers to the window. I noticed my ring finger was laden with a heavy diamond ring, it caught the light so well I was almost hypnotized by it.
I heard the bathroom door open followed by a rolling steam and a man I instantly recognized, wrapped in an open robe.
“Mr. Thorpe ?”
“Mrs. Thorpe ?”
“What ?”
I almost fell back against the window but steadied myself. My hand was still slightly shaking; the unsteady hand of a new bride on her wedding night.
“how did I get here ?”
“It’s okay Clarabelle”, He approached me, “Everything thing is just fine---”
I woke up startled from my dream.
I was in the Black Room. Al although it was empty and I was more than aware that I wasn’t alone.
Isn’t this better than the alternative, Clarabelle
“No”, I said looking around as if I could see or touch her.
You were always a dreamer, just like me.
“This is more like a nightmare”, I wasn’t even sure if I was speaking out loud.You and I have had always had a special connection
I felt my arms and legs moving without my consent. I followed helplessly along, taking a walk around the room and towards the window. The drapes billowed free and my hands opened the window.
"Stop", I pleaded hoping to appeal to her maternal side.
I can't have you saying such terrible things to my husband and breaking windows.
In the dark I could see myself opening the windows, the bars were still on either side. Gently I lifted my right hand and placed two fingers on the window sill.
I struggled inside myself I couldn't even close my my eyes or look away. My left hand was already on top.of the window.
Waiting
"please please please . . .I'm sorry Grandmother. . please, no", I begged wishing I could at least blink.
The window came down with extreme force, if no one could hear me scream then, then know one would ever find me.
I nursed 4 broken fingers that night
+4+
Mr. Fierro
I had heard her screams that night, being tormented relentlessly by a cunning poltergeist.
Was she so foolish ?
Ms. DeLune had an inability to mold to social situations. She knew
the limits and continued to break them. Logical she deserved to be punished, in
reality it created a problem, a problem that lead to another sleepless night for myself.
If Ms. DeLune did die, by accident, would that entitle Lucie to completely consume her body ? Did Lucie know this ? Is that what she was waiting for ?
The tires screeched and I was pressed against the side of the car as Mr. Ciani made a sharp turn. I quickly regained my current state of mind.
"Almost missed the turn, sir", he explained
Outside, the looming residence of the DeLune family estate came into view. Generations had been raised in the home a French, Italian and American flag flew at half-staff outside.
I had been called to the DeLune household without an explanation but it would appear suspicious if I refused to make an appearance. I hoped Lucie did not further torment her grandaughter while I was away.
Once inside I reali
zed
It was the first time I had truly been alone with Ms. DeLune's mother. No
doubt the cause of her daughter’s beauty, Clair DeLune's eyes vaguely reminded me of a
spring cymbidum, there was something timeless and youthful about her; Mrs. Clair
DeLune, despite circumstances, remained hospitable. She had taken on the role
as host rather well.
“Y-You live alone ?”, she said
“Yes.”
To my count I had been invited into the DeLune home for 14 minutes without so much a word as to why.
“The way my husband speaks of you. . . you seem so much older.”
“Yes, I suppose that is true”, the tea was weak with milk, just as her daughter liked it, “Although I have a staff on hand.”
“Do you know if any of them have. . . seen my little girl ?”
I did not have a proper answer and she reached over and refilled the fragile tea cup, it was her eyes, the best colors are always found in nature.
“They will do what they can”
We continued in silence for a few moments.
“Do you have any family ?”, she asked
“No.”
“You don’t give much away do you?”
“I'm afraid there is not much to give, Signora.”
She set the cup down and reached for my hand.
“I should wait elsewh—“
“No, don’t I just-I mean—I wonder if my son will grow up to be a man like you or any man. . . really”
“Son ?”
She looked down and smiled shyly.
I recalled the cigar Martin had given me.
“Did Clara know ?”
She shook her head.
“Hm”, she stood up, “the way you say her name, I don’t know it’s nice. “
She left the room at the exact moment her husband entered. They briefly comforted each other before crossing into separate rooms.
We were finally alone.
“Sir”,
“Let’s get down to it”, he said, “You --before--said if there was anything you could do. to help us find our daughter, so here it is”
“Of course sir”, I feigned sudden interest in the tea
“I’ve been talking to some friends in law enforcement, they think if we offered a reward it will help bring Clara home.”
“Surely and adequate reward should not be hard for your family treasury”
He was silent
“Look we’ve all got out issues with the economy and all, that’s a man’s own
business, are you willing to help ?”
“What of Mr. Thorpe. Surely he is invested in finding his future bride ?", I found those words unusually bitter.
“He’s put up a half a million or so, it’s all he can spare right now, of
course it’s not enough”
Martin’s actions spoke all the words he could not.
“Am I to assume the DeLune family fortune is dwindling ?”, he was quiet, “Could I assume sir that you lavish wedding were to . .. prevail the idea that you still maintained your wealth.
“I’m talking about my daughter here, my little girl”
I had been so far from sympathy
“Marrying you daughters to wealthy men is an admirable way to supplement an income”, I began to think aloud, “. . .For the sake of propriety I will oblige to double Mr. Thorpe’s offer.”
Martin was a proud man and accepted without pause.
“You know my father was a 2nd generation here, leaving France was the biggest mistake they ever made”, Martin continued wallowing, “you know where the classical musicians are in America, Mr. Fierro ? Hollywood. you ever been to Hollywood”
“No, sir”
He picked up the framed photograph of his daughter, it
matched similar photographs of the other DeLune daughters. They were dressed and posed the same.
“I don’t just want her back, I need her back”, his words were honest but said more.
I'd often berated Ms. DeLune bout her Grandmother's love of pretty little things. It seemed to a family obsession, and of of all the pretty little things the youngest DeLune daughter,by no personal preference,was the prettiest.
Clarabelle
Beautiful Clara
I had somehow produced my checkbook, Mr. DeLune thrusting a pen in my hand. I located my own pen, the very one his daughter had used to write her undelivered letter and let the ink fall.
"Although Mr. DeLune I will expect you to incur a large interest, you understand."
"Of course", he answered timidly
"Keep this", I offered him the pen.
I was very still, suddenly filled with a sensation that had laid dormant for years. I watched Martin as he glowered at the photo of his daughter, his misery exerted to its extent.
I thought of Roger who truly had nothing to gain from his Clarabelle, who only wanted her love and music. I imagined him remembering and then forgetting that she is missing, maybe dead. Truly tortured but still not enough.
Martin hesitated, as if to decline my offer, his pride has possible effected him for a bit, but only for that long. Placing my glasses on I studied the generations of the family posted along the wall. How easily Mr. Thorpe would fit into such a prominent family legacy. I imagined his picture along the wall, proudly displayed.
Roger had taken a son and wife from me all those years ago, perhaps I should take a grandchild from him. I almost laughed at the thought.
Take their money, their family, their hope.
How many ways were there to make his family suffer ? To take away everything as Roger had with me.
I composed myself while leaving the family home, the home were generations had been raised a house filled with music and love. Perhaps that was really the house of illusions.
+5+
exorsit theme
The house on the lake suddenly held a purpose for me now. I ordered Mr. Ciani away and located a few items around the house; red paint, a brush, a camera. I climbed the steps towards the west wing. The room never seemed so far away. I opened the locks quickly and found Ms. Delune, still on a heavy supply of pain medication ,unconscious on her bed clinging to her bandaged fingers.
I placed her across my knees tilting her head to expose her neck.
It really was shameful how some feeling triumph others.
Ms. DeLune didn't flinch as the thin paintbrush coated in dark red paint touched the delicate skin of her neck, her hair rested on my shoulder her lips were so very close and inviting even if she were struggling to breathe. I was careful not to choke her, still it had to be in exactly the right spot.
Once finished, I laid her gently back on the bed almost as if she were a fragile flower. Taking the camera from the night stand I carefully framed and photographed her.
I spent the night in seclusion of the greenhouse store room developing the film, as the photograph became clear the message branded on the girl was visible. I planned how I would drive hundreds of miles out of the way to deliver the message to the DeLune Family.
A message to haunt Roger DeLune.
A message written across his granddaughters beating artery. The same artery he had struck and killed me with.
Ultio