Victorian Dreams Pt. 01

Clear of the shrubs, it took a few minutes before her eyes adjusted to the darkness that surrounded her, again. As her eyes adjusted, she became aware of two things, the brilliance of the stars in the sky, and the outline of two rather strong looking men looming above her.

She spoke saying the only thing that came to her embarrassed, startled mind,

"You are trespassing. Get off our property."

She saw a movement and other stars joined those in the sky as a hand crashed on her cheekbone, 'cold cocking' the girl.

Chapter 10

When Clarice awoke, she was in the basement. She was on her knees, her arms held tightly in the grip of two hideous looking creatures. This served to both support her body and restrain her movements.

Her mother was still secured to the table, the two vapor-like women still secured to the wall.

The raven-haired woman that had been bathing her mother's face was standing by her now. As the fog in her mind cleared from the blow she had received moments before, the cacophony from the women chained to the wall was clarified and she could hear their plaintive cries as they moaned over and over.

"Take me Master. Use me for your pleasure."

Her mother's noises were moans. Clarice described them in such a way as to identify them, as clearly a product of passion and pleasure, and not like any moans of pain she had ever heard.

Her arms were still suspended in midair, her hands still clutching and grabbing at the air above her splayed and bound legs.

The burly men who had drug her from the shrubs and then knocked her from consciousness and now, held her captive as they supported her kneeling form, were hideous creatures and not men at all.

The appeared the cross between men and horses almost. Their bodies were muscular appearing, and covered with a heavy mat of hair. The hair on their heads hung in a disheveled, unkempt mass around their shoulders. Their chests were bare, but they wore tattered trousers, held in place by a rope belt. Their feet hooved, their hands like the talons of a large bird of prey. Their eyes were huge, easily encompassing the upper half of their faces. Their teeth were an ugly stained gnarled mass in the hideous looking mouths of the creature's faces.

One had graying hair, so appeared the older of the two and he spoke.

"Master, we found this little one spying in the windows."

The older one gestured toward the glass that lined the juncture of the floor above and the wall below, indicating the line of windows Clarice had just been peering through.

"I knew when Gregorio added those windows they would be a problem."

A big booming voice that almost caused the walls to shudder and emanated from near where Clarice mother lay strapped obscenely to the table, spoke.

Though Clarice turned to look in that direction, there was no one there except her mother secured helplessly to the tabletop. The woman who had been tending her mother spoke to Clarice.

"The Master hates the sunlight. Light is the only substance that can purify and not become itself adulterated in the process. When Gregorio added the windows to this room design, the Master was displeased but it was too late."

"Gregorio explained Man's building codes wouldn't allow the chamber without windows. But the Master still disapproves of the light."

Clarice recalled the architects name had been Gregory. That must be Gregorio.

Clarice couldn't understand why the raven-haired woman was seemingly taking her into her confidence, but wished she hadn't, for her breath smelled the foulest Clarice had ever smelled.

It smelled of rotting flesh and all manner of fetid odor. When she spoke, a fine mist discharged from her mouth, like a breath fog on a cold day in winter.

She spoke to the ogre-like creatures that held her captive,

"You have done well my children."

Chapter 11

As Haley continued to read of the accounts of these horrific sights, Clarice had so eloquently portrayed in her words, it became clear, to Haley at least, why the raven-haired woman had 'taken Clarice into her confidence'.

"When the Master comes for you and you accept his companionship, you too will grow to hate the light...."

The woman's words were interrupted when the older 'ogre-looking' creature spoke.

"Master, may we use her for our pleasure?"

The response was immediate and stern.

"NO! She must remain pure until she gives herself to me. I must have a virgin to procreate a son, to carry on when I am gone or to create havoc elsewhere in the world. Only a virgin can procreate with me a son and not a creature as yourself. She is not to be touched. Return her to the outside world. She must come to me of her own desire or be delivered to me by her mother. If you must sate the lust of your loins, use one of the concubine women."

The voice must have be referencing the women chained and suspended from the wall, for the one who had spoken turned a glance in their direction.

"Thank you Master, but the concubine women are never as satisfying as real flesh and blood women."

Clarice was struck again across the cheekbone and again stars filled the night sky in her mind.

Chapter 12

When she awoke, Clarice was in her bed, and the sun shone brightly through her bedroom window. She would have thought the previous night a dream had it not been for the huge tender bruise on her cheekbone and the dirt ground into her gown and bloomers as she crawled among the shrubs and was dragged from their vantage point. She quickly washed and dressed herself.

As she descended the stair, she noted her mother was in her bed sleeping, so she made her way quietly to the kitchen.

She made coffee for when her mother arose, and then went out to again peer at the shrubs where the view the night before had revealed the secrets in the basement below.

Clarice wrote how overnight the neatly trimmed shrub had become an overgrown tangle of briar-like thorn bushes, and she couldn't crawl through to look through the window. Each time she thought she found a spot to make ingress to the mass, thorns would fill the spot and lash out at her as if attacking to defend the portal beyond. The thorns were several inches long and wicked looking in their ability to inflict a severe wound to anyone attempting to enter the overgrown mass of vegetation.

Clarice gave up after a time and went back in the house. She wrote how she went to the basement stair and fearful at first descended into the darkness below. The sun meekly filtered through the bramble and only spotty light was available in the subterranean room or chamber as the woman with the horrible breath had called it the night before.

Chapter 13

As she entered the space, the events of the night before, faded and dream-like to this point began to flood back in all their detail in Clarice mind. The table her mother had been secured to, which had stood in the middle of the room in the night's activity was now against the wall. Drying fluids on the tabletop and abrasions where the buckles on the straps that had secured her mother's legs had rubbed as she writhed in her attempts to be free, were clearly visible. Chains hung from the walls, where Clarice had seen the concubine women the night before. A bright spot existed in the brick wall that formed one of the foundation retaining walls and a wall of the basement chamber, as if the brick were newly laid.

When Clarice touched the mortar between the bricks, she found it to be wet as if it were in fact freshly mortared.

After a thorough inspection of the room, she turned to leave, and thought she saw a puff of smoke drift just out of view into one of the dark shadows that existed under the staircase that descended into the chamber.

As she approached the stair that led back to the ground floor, she passed by the dark area this smoke puff had drifted into. She spoke of feeling a decided chill as she passed by and the distinct feeling she was being watched. She quickly exited the basement chamber and returned the kitchen.

Her mother was sitting at the table drinking the coffee Clarice had prepared earlier. Her appearance was of a person who hadn't slept in days, her disheveled appearance uncharacteristic of her prim and proper mother until recently. Her clothing, in disarray, hastily donned without consideration of coordination or fit. Her mother used to be carefully coiffed and dressed each day, Noting the bruise on her daughters face, she spoke.

"You must never go to the basement again, Clarice. You must never concern yourself with the goings on there."

"Yes mother, but I heard noises last night and it looked like you were being tortured. I hadn't formulated an idea on how to handle the situation when those hideous creatures discovered me and drug me down there. What was happening to you? Why were you tied to the table?"

Clarice had more questions than answers and the events of the night before consumed her with concern for her mother. Her mother's answer was quick and again adamant about Clarice presence in the scenario and really didn't provide many answers.

"I went to the room several weeks ago to investigate the noises, just as you did last night. I submitted to the evil there in a moment of weakness. I am forever trapped in the dark activity of the chamber. I can't help that now. Your father God rest his soul tried to help, but it is too late for anyone to rescue me. I am damned for all eternity. You though are still safe. But you open yourself to risk if you return to the room."

"The creatures there are extremely persuasive. The evil presence there is limited to that room as long as I live and then only in times of darkness, unless you set them free. If that happens, God-help the rest of the world, if even he can help. So promise me Clarice you will never go down there again. And you must exercise caution that you never put yourself in a position, like last night to be taken there either."

Clarice wrote of the chilling effect of her mother's words and also made mention this was the first time since her father's murder that her mother had made any sense in what she said. Most of the time it sounded as if she were speaking a foreign language.

Clarice knew her mother spoke the Scandinavian dialect of the country of her grandparent's birth, she also knew from hearing her grandparents talk as a young girl and from that rare occasion her parents spoke to each other in the native tongue of their ancestors that wasn't the language her mother was using.

Yet, today her mother's words were clear and in plain English and confirmed what Clarice had thought all along. Clarice had been thoroughly convinced her father's death was no accident or suicide, and this just seemed to confirm that conviction.

When Clarice, spent too much time thinking through the import, of her mother's words, her mother grew agitated.

"God Damn it Clarice, PROMISE!"

Clarice had never heard her mother utter profanity or even a word that could be closely considered profane. Not to mention she had taken the Lord's name in vain. This elicited a quick response.

"Yes, Mother, I promise."

Her diatribe this morning continued along the same lines and held some coherency for several more minutes then lapsed back into the nonsensical commentary she so frequently pursued. At least to Clarice it seemed nonsense.

"Damned for all eternity to be used for sport only, those of us who have passed the days of innocence. The Master can only procreate with the pure. Anyone else is a toy for sportly pleasures only. The powers of darkness are strong and unyielding in their pursuit to subvert man to their dastardly deeds. The Master knows only evil, and seeks only the downfall of man into darkness for all eternity."

Clarice wrote she had no contaxt of understandin in regard to her mother's words. Her diatribe continued.

"He will stop at nothing, in gaining his evil purpose. Yet, one that is stronger than he fights against his evil purpose and intent. Yet, man in his fallible weakness serves easily as an unwitting accomplice to the evil intents of the Master. When the Master is unleashed on the world, only an angelic warrior can return him to the consignment of life in the dark and low places of the underworld. He appeals to man's more carnal nature and to the exposure of his dark beastly desires. Then through trickery, he convinces man if he serves him, he can have his decadence for all eternity. Man in his ignorance easily succumbs to the dark side of his nature, and the good Lord is helpless to intervene having decided to afford man free-moral agency at the time of creation."

Then she lapsed back into the gibberish of before.

"In nomini domini souy sabwah felique id y odd infernos."

This made no sense to Clarice and she wrote these words in her diary only to record the seeming nonsense of her mother's ramblings. Haley however felt she had an idea what her mother was trying to tell the naive girl.

The sun was starting to set in the west and Haley cursed herself when she realized she had wasted an entire day reading the girl's diary. Yet, she found it difficult to put down.

Chapter 14

Haley had intended to have the upper room cleaned by today and to move to it as her bedroom, yet little had been accomplished. As she snuggled down in her bed in the ground floor bedroom to sleep another night, she promised herself she wouldn't waste Sunday as she had Saturday.

The next morning though as she sipped her morning tea, she felt drawn to the book and returned to the verandah, book in hand, to read further into the adventures it contained.

Clarice spoke of strange noises occurring almost every night now. Yet, she stood by her promise to her mother, not to investigate. She did descend to the ground floor one stormy night when the noises and the oppressive summer heat made sleep impossible. She stood on the verandah watching the thunderclouds unleashing their bolts of lightening off to the south. The storms were passing well south, and promised no rain and only the stifling heat and humidity were present. Fortunately the winds were starting to whip up rather vigorously around the house and that helped cool things standing on the spacious verandah. The storm clouds completely obscured the moon and the night was dark.

As Clarice stood cooling in the outflow winds of the thunderstorm 20-30 miles away, she wrote of seeing swift movements, blurs of motion, as if spectral zephyrs were trying to surround her. When these blurs appeared to be moving ever closer, she recalled the words her mother had said,

"... You though are still safe. But you open yourself to risk if you return to the room. The creatures there are extremely persuasive. The evil presence there is limited to that room as long as I live and then only in times of darkness, unless you set them free. If that happens, God-help the rest of the world, if even he can help. So promise me Clarice you will never go down there again. And you must exercise caution that you never put yourself in a position, like last night to be taken there either."

Clarice really didn't see a danger in standing on her own porch trying to escape the summer heat and the storms intensification of the oppressive humidity, but wisely retreated to her bedroom. The recollection of the hideous man beasts that had knocked her unconscious and taken her prisoner to the chamber was vivid in her mind. She clearly recalled the words of the unseen 'Master' saying,

" She must come to me of her own desire or be delivered to me by her mother."

Yet Clarice was unsure of what powers existed and her mother's warnings and her promise to not revisit the chamber or place her self in harm's way over rode her curiosity and sense of well-being.

Then she wrote of seeing vapor-like apparitions in the night in her room. They only came on nights when clouds obscured the moon and as the light in her room grew brighter as the phase of the moon moved closer to full they stopped.

Though Clarice initially referred to them as apparitions in her diary, she discounted them now as an overactive imagination created by her curiosity into what her mother had said, yet not able to investigate without breaking her promise, and decidedly somewhat fearful of the potential dangers the chamber and even those the out-of-doors presented after night fall.

Yet, a week after the full moon, when the moon's cycle was in a waning phase again, and the size of the moon had been reduced to that little thumbnail sliver that marks the last quarter moon and the moon's entry into the last phase of its cycle, the vapor-like apparitions began to appear again.

Chapter 15

This time they were vocal though, so Clarice knew they were real and not imagined. She had a hard time getting a clear view of them. As she lay huddled under the bed covers at night watching the vapors slip around her room, if she tried to focus too intently on one, it would disappear. Then a movement in her peripheral vision would draw her attention to another part of the room.

These were real, because as the phase of the moon moved toward new and the series of moonlight absent nights that marked the advent of the new moon, her room no longer was bathed in moonlight and would take on a subdued glow of soft light when one of these nightly visitors appeared. The light was an offensive color, resembling a dirty yellow in hue.

They were murmuring constantly now, a mantra like chant that was eerily unnerving at times as Clarice nerves grew frayed from the lack of quality sleep.

'The Master cometh' they would chant as they moved around the room.

The dark night of the new moon saw a visitor she was familiar with. The raven-haired lady that had tended her mother, while Clarice peered into the chamber window, joined the other vaporous apparitions who visited her in her room.

The same vaporous apparition that had spoken in a confidential manner with her when she had been in the basement chamber, the dreadful night she had discovered the despicable goings on in the house.

She stood beside her bed on that moonless night, speaking as if they were confidantes.

"You must go to the Master, my child. When you accept him as your Master, he will become visible to you. And then the pleasures he promises will be realized. If you are pure, he will honor you by having you bear his son, only if you are pure, though. Then your existence through all eternity will be assured. Go to him now, he awaits your presence in the chamber below."

Clarice noted even though the vapor-like mist of the woman's breath was still present the thoroughly disgusting fetid odor had been transformed to a pleasing almost spring-like smell of fields of blooming flowers.

Clarice wrote of trembling in her bed and how the woman's hypnotic words were very persuasive, but her promise to her mother not to return to the basement chamber kept popping in her head every time her mind would tell her to rise and go to the room as the sirens song of the raven-haired women began to have an almost hypnotic effect.

She lay there until the first shafts of light from the morning sun began to lighten her room. The raven-haired woman had continually retold her discourse of pleasures untold in the service of the Master. Each iteration through the almost lyrical litany taking on greater intensity as the morning grew nearer. The sun's light blooming on the horizon in the pre-dawn moments vanquished the raven-haired siren and the others and Clarice was able to get a few hours sleep before the suns journey into the heavens brought its beams in her window to illuminate her sleeping form.

She arose from her slumber and hurriedly dressed. As she approached the kitchen, she noted the smell of bacon cooking in her descent to the ground floor.

Her mother was in the kitchen, scurrying about in her preparation of the morning meal, her appearance, rested and finely coiffed as in days of old.