Corneille Noire 7

from Sylas Wilcox

May 10, 2013, 7:38 p.m.

I grabbed the frosty rail and slowly crept up the stairs. As each creak was echoed through the foyer I thought I heard a noise. It sounded like a click. "Is someone ---" I'm too scared to talk. "He-Hello?"

I wait. Nothing.

It's just too quiet for me to be alone. I lift my left foot then creeaaakkkk. I lift my right foot then creak. I get to the top of the stairs and swear I just saw a shadow on the floor. But, was it a person? I don't know. It was just a glance. It must be my mind playing tricks on me. It's an eerie house; just giving me the creeps. I open the first door with my gun leading. I don't see anyone inside. Huummm there is something on the bed. The bed is white and pink and frilly. Who's bed was that? I just pick up the note when....

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, someone is running down the stairs!

I run out to the top stair just as the front door slams shut. Who was in here with me?

The eerie silence leaves the house and I can hear a wolf howl in the distance at the moon. It was a full moon tonight. I reach for my leather pocket book in my back pocket. I take note of the broken lock on the front door, the pink and white frilly bed, the note left perfectly on the pillow sealed with a waxy, black crow.

As I finish writing and drawing in my book, my eye catches a glint of something shiny on the floor. I go over to investigate. Its a tiny shard of glass. Maybe crystal. Something.

I wonder. Whoever was in here was leaving this Letter for me? Did they hurt Daniel? Oh! the Letter. I rip off the wax and pull out the letter.

What you seek is not what you know nor is it what you want to know. Look beyond the ordinary and accept reality.

There is a room where knowledge is in the past. There is a room where a man sits and a man strategizes. Upon a mantelshelf sits a portrait of a man and a woman with all the wrong intentions. The proof is within.

  • C.

Where does a man sit and strategize with a mantel. There must be a fire place. A library! I start walking around the house and almost intuitively find the library. This house is so familiar.

I can smell the room; leather, wood, books, and cigars. I look at the fireplace and I can see a painting above but its too dark to really see it. With a lit match, I look at the painting again. With a gasp that blows out the match, I realize that this was my house. I look at the letter again, it does say my house. Well it was my parents house. I light another match and look at the painting a bit harder. This is my parents, but much younger. And they look so happy. They are so serious these days. Taking in the moment I sit down in my father's old leather arm chair where he used to smoke cigars. I'm glad he quit that years ago.

I'm here for a reason. I look at C's letter again. "The proof is within. Within what?" I say aloud. I take the painting down and look at the back. Its just the back sit of the canvas. Nothing to put within. I notice a naked figure on the mantel. I get a closer look. It's been moved recently. The dust is all unsettled. I look at the figure closely looking for a way to open it. Nothing, its solid. I put it back on the mantel. When the brass hit the mantel it made a hollow sound. I knock on the mantel some more and its definitely hollow. I find the latch down the side and it suddenly slides open making me jump in the process.

I just smile. It's such a cool gadgit and something my father would have. I take a look inside the mantel and there is an envelope. I open the envelope and lay the papers across the desk, my father's desk. These are Daniel's dock logs! I take a look at all of the logs in chronilogical order.

These documents seem quite harmless. I don't understand. There is nothing here. Wait! These dates are all old family vacations around the world! Well that's not strange still. Look past the ordinaray. Hum there are a few copies of logs, why? These aren't copies! They have different time stamps.

C is right! My parents were smuggling things illegally all around the world using the bottom of the boat, where I found all the gold coins, and disguising them as family vacations just one year apart! I feel so achieved. Although I shouldn't be. My parents are culprits of a world wide crime and for what? Money? This is strange. I know my parents are gluttonous, but I don't want.. I don't think... Would they?


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852 words

3 minutes