Shadows of the Mansion
Bloodlust.The urge for violence, the NEED to kill. It courses through every one of us like a fast-flowing river of pain that will on occasion drag us down into the depths, where desperation takes hold and we begin to deliver suffering. The crimsom flow spits us out again long enough to draw breath - no longer! - before pulling us down, down into (disturbingly) that which makes us... human.
It’s in our nature. Some people are better at it than others, which is of course only normal. Such is life. Some are drawn to it like moths to a flame, only this fire burns inside us. Like the river of blood, it washes away all that we perceive ourselves to be, all that we claim to be. Our hopes, dreams, all wiped clean with the flick of an internal switch that drives us to destroy.
Bloodlust. The desire to kill.
One such man who would never fall victim to this need for violence went by the name of Draeden Darksky. A man who killed to survive. Without his cold, unfeeling judgement he would have perished at the hands of some violence-addicted thug. No, what afflicted Draeden Darksky was another aspect of the human condition with which we are equipped to ensure our survival: determination. There was no hate. No resentment towards those he killed. He didn’t WANT to kill. He did what he must to live. If that meant the deaths of those who did seek to kill, who did lust for blood and feel the craving to deliver pain...
Then so be it.
The name, Draeden thought, was fitting to the event. There were men and women involved who were looking to show their opponents the meaning of pain. Blood indeed would be spilled in the ring at the Pay Per View. Probably not Draeden’s own, his match wasn’t particularly extreme. “Busy” was probably a better term for the Battle Royal he was to participate in, though with titles on the line and an abundance of red-eyed men (and women) anything could happen. Draeden expected anything. In fact he considered anything as more of a certainty than a possibility. Anything would happen, and with that in mind Draeden conceeded that indeed blood may be spilt, though that was inconsequential. As they say, shit happens.
But what shit would that be? It’s all very well to expect shit, Draeden knew, but what shit would he be side-stepping and hopping over on his (and the Cabo Wabo Middleweight title’s) path to victory? He considered all the potential shits. One thing that he considered immediately to be very shit would be the possibility of the entire opponent base to gang up on him and eliminate him first. He was certainly the strongest player in the game by his count, though he wasn’t sure of the others’ opinions of him. Surprisingly, he cared. He thought it was shit when he ended up being labelled the Faggot Ass Bitch, though that big shit could now be broken down into managable chunks. Bitesize! A lot of his opponents would underestimate him for this shitty title he had been carrying for a while now, the title itself insinuated that Draeden was a stabber of shit. Now, he’d run cold steel through many a man in his time but never from behind and certainly not with his mutton dagger either. That was kind of foul in his opinion. Hmm.
Anyway, back to the shit.
So, fingers crossed, Draeden’s opponents might ignore his track record and focus on the face of his tarnished reputation. That would be good. As far as the records go, Draeden had only actually lost a match once, and even then he’d been screwed by Scott Carr and The Fam. What did that mean anyway, “The Fam”? Short for Family? Pretty odd looking brothers. DBR was probably the father. It’d explain a lot. Draeden’s other loss was down to a teammate not pulling their weight in a tag match, he himself wasn’t pinned. No, he was occupied outside of the ring. Tactical play from his opponents? Maybe. Either way, Brianna Singer was in his match this week as an opponent. He held no ill will. He’d beat her just like everyone else.
Indifference, what a curious thing. It crept into Draeden’s life as a side effect of his conviction to slay whoever stepped into that underground arena with him, be they man, woman, black, white or anything in-between. They were out to kill him. It was justified. This fact didn’t make Draeden feel any better about the souls that were shackled to his own, taunting, shouting and cursing him while he tried to sleep. It was fortunate he was now able to stay awake for three days at a time without needing sleep. Such a blessing. This gave him the opportunity to contemplate his situation. VWF. Marius. Alex. Styx. That fucking van on his drive. What a heap, he hated it. He absently wondered what da’Silva was up to right now. Hopefully looking into what can be done about those bloody ghosts that are plaguing the mansion. Darksky Manor would not be reknowned for the random, cabbage-patch retard ghouls that loitered in it. He toyed with the idea of going to Ayreon to seek out the ghosts that assailed his house with groans, creaks, bangs and voices that echoed in the night, that added to the howls of hatred from Draeden’s own personal demons.
Draeden’s own actions had landed pressure on his shoulders, he was working hard to ensure the Cabo Wabo Middleweight title succeeded in the rankings versus the other, more prestigious titles. This meant regular flights to Vegas for Full House and back again for Crucifiction. Not this week of course, his plate was full as it was. On top of that he certainly didn’t need da’Silva, ancient spirits, Ayreon and Apocalypticus hassling him on the side with a random Gol’goroth nightmare dressing. That freakish monstrosity had fucked him off.
Something battered against Draeden’s bedroom door. He had been sitting cross-legged on his bed trying to clear his mind. As the previous few paragraphs clearly suggest, this was not possible - especially not with things banging into his door. He rolled forward onto his feet on the floor and strode towards the door in one fluent motion, grabbing his knife from a small end table by the portal. When he opened the door there was nothing to be seen, save for a small tabe on the floor. Draeden assumed that was what hit his door. He heard what sounded like a scream from downstairs and leapt over the chair, headed for the stairs. He looked over the bannister - saw nothing. He grabbed the rail with both hands and threw himself over it, holding on and landing both feet on the small ledge. He slid down and caught the same ledge with both hands, then released again, breaking his fall into a mere fifteen feet or so, the athletic man twisted in mid air and dropped into a crouch when he hit the stone floor.
He listened.
A crash from the dining room. Draeden headed for the door, hearing something made of wood skid across the floor beyond. He pushed on the tall wooden door but it wouldn’t budge. Gripping the handle, Draeden smashed his shoulder into the wood, again and again until the middle of the door smashed inwards. He kicked debris loose and climbed through to see Alexandra stood in a corner with Marius in front of her, his back facing the terrified woman. He looked to the rest of the room and was somewhat surprised by what he saw.
It wasn’t every day your dining furniture decided to float. A chair flew at Draeden who rolled aside, narrowly avoiding the heavy object. A second chair bounced into him after smashing into the floor, almost tripping him. Marius turned around, grabbing Alex and shoving her towards Draeden. He took her by the arm and lead her to the hole in the door, shielding her from the flying furniture. He covered his head as he helped her climb through, protecting himself from a flying bowl that bounced off his ribs. As soon as Alex was clear, Draeden turned to da’Silva.
Draeden: What the fuck is going on?!
Marius: Our spirits are a little more capable than we thought.
* * *
Outside the room, Alexandra sat on the stairs while Marius explained that he was standing in front of the fire when the armchairs both tipped over and the end table launched into the ceiling. After that he heard Alexandra scream from the dining room and he found her sheltering under the table, hiding from the poltergeist’s destructive behaviour. He protected her while they tried to escape but the door wouldn’t budge. Then Draeden showed up.
Marius: Before you ask, I thought you would be somewhat displeased should I have ignored Alexandra.
Draeden: Somewhat. So now what?
Marius: We should go outside. They can’t reach us there.
Draeden: They? There’s more than one doing this?
Marius: Maybe “all” would be a more appropriate word.
They headed out, Draeden glared at Marius.
Draeden: What do you mean “all”?
Marius: What do I mean? By “all”? Well, imbecile, “all” generally refers to ALL OF THEM! All the spirits, here! Now! Acting as one!
Draeden: You said they were barely aware of each other, now they’re ganging up on us? What’s changed?
Marius: How should I know?!
Draeden: You’re a fucking ghost!
Marius: So what? That doesn’t make me a learned scholar does it?
Draeden: I figured you might have picked something up over the years. Then again, what do you hear when your head’s up your ass?
He slammed the door behind them and the three walked towards Draeden’s van, Draeden opened the side door for Alex to sit back down, she still hadn’t said anything since the furniture incident. Draeden put a hand on her shoulder.
Draeden: You alright?
Alex: Yeah, just got hit in the back by a chair. It’s knocked me a little shaky.
Draeden nodded and didn’t pursue it. She’d just get pissed off if he showed too much concern. As women do. Marius was looking at the house. Draeden followed his eyes to the grand dining room windows. From within, lights flashed and shadows danced, the spirits inside going all ends to... well, to do what exactly, they didn’t know. Draeden assumed they’d find out when they went inside. He shook his head and sighed, then growled as his phone started ringing. He answered.
Draeden: Yes?
[Krystal]: Draeden?
Draeden: Oh, hi Krystal. Now’s not a good time--
[Krystal]: It will be when I tell you what I’ve found!
Draeden: What?
[Krystal]: You’d better come to the shop, I’ll explain when you get here.
Draeden: Fine. Be there soon.
He hung up.
Alex: What’s up?
Draeden: Krystal has something to tell me at the shop, you guys coming?
Alexandra nodded. Marius shrugged.
Marius: I have a choice?
* * *
The shop was, as ever, quite dark. The hazy light from the small windows lit the airborne dust up like golden powder that twisted and turned in the air like a mini dog-fight. Krystal slammed a thick book down the counter in anticipation of Draeden’s arrival, kicking up more dust. On top of the book she also had some printouts from the internet that she’d found while researching Draeden’s home. She placed a laptop down next to the book and opened it up. While she waited for it to boot up she scanned the store and sighed at the mess. The shelves and counters were lined with various paints, brushes, candles, incense, gemstones, books, candle sticks and other stuff. There were essential oils, more books, jewellery, bits of stones and metals... tons of stuff. There was no real order to it either, some of it had seen so little human contact if you were to pick something up there’d be a clean patch on the bench where the dust had landed around it.
The computer sounded its readiness and Krystal looked at the screen. At that point the door almost opened. “Almost” because it was locked and the bolt banged against the sheath mounted on the frame. Krystal hurried around the counter and unlocked the door, pulling it open. It was Draeden, flanked by an odd looking man and a young woman. She invited them in.
Draeden: Apologies about the party, the... mansion...
He trailed off because Krystal was ignoring him, looking intently at da’Silva.
Krystal: Can I have a word with you, Draeden? Privately?
Draeden: Uh, yeah. Sure.
He followed her into a back room. She suddenly spun around and started talking with a worried expression on her face.
Krystal: Do you know who that man is? His exact look-alike came up dozens of times during my research, is he a descendant of Marius da’Silva? What’s his name? Where’d you find him? Why didn’t you TELL me?!
Draeden opened his mouth to speak but Krystal had the advantage of being a woman and got there first.
Krystal: Anything else you’re not sharing with me? We can’t do this without co-operation on BOTH sides, that means you share with me and I share with you!
He tried again. She won.
Krystal: And another thing, I had my electromagnetic field detector checked out, there’s nothing wrong with it! So why do you look like you’re covered in ghosts?
Draeden waited. She didn’t look like she was going to speak again so he quickly spoke while he had the chance.
Draeden: You really need to know that?
She nodded. She actually looked quite pissed.
Draeden: I’m haunted by the souls of men I killed in illegal undeground deathmatches before I came here. They don’t let me think. They don’t let me sleep. They make me sick, give me headaches and slip thoughts of fear and anger into my mind. They piss me off and I deal with it, but they aren’t why I’m here.
Krystal just stared at him, unsure whether to believe him or not.
Draeden: As for the guy outside, he’s no descendant of da’Silva--
Krystal: He must be! He looks just like him, there’s no... other... way...
She began to realise just as she finished her sentence.
Krystal: No way.
Draeden: That IS da’Silva.
Krystal: But that’s impossible.
Draeden: Apparently not.
Krystal: But it is! It can’t be him! He must have been dead for centuries!
Draeden: Indeed. Yet there he stands.
Krystal: How?!
Draeden sighed and briefly explained what he knew about da’Silva, carefully leaving out references to Ayreon. He also told her what Marius had told said about the symbol in the basement.
Krystal: That’s basically what my research has unearthed. Why didn’t you tell me?
Draeden held up his thumb and pinkie, holding it to his ear like a phone.
Draeden: “Hi Krystal, yeah I found out what the symbol means. Yeah, uh, the enslaved apparition of the former owner of the mansion told me. How about that!” Sure, like you would’ve bought that.
Krystal: I’m not sure I’m buying it now. Marius da’Silva has been dead for centuries, there’s no way that’s him out there. He looks like a living, breathing person! Sure, he’s a bit pale... Thin too, maybe. But not dead.
Draeden: His clothes are a bit dated.
Krystal: Yeah...
Draeden: Get your electro-wotsit doo-dah what-not detector. You’ll see.
She picked up a box from a shelf and pulled out the weird device, switching it on and pointing it at Draeden. As before, he was covered in electromagnetic energy. Krystal shook her head and gestured for Draeden to head out into the shop front. He pushed the door aside and held it for Krystal who was still looking at the screen on her contraption. Alex and Marius watched in silence as Krystal approached Marius, pointing the EMF detector at him. Sure enough he stood out like a sore bollock.
Krystal: It can’t be...
Marius: What?
Krystal: You’re... a ghost?
He sighed.
Krystal: You look so alive. How?
Marius: Well, plenty of exercise, fresh air and fine living does a man a world of good, or so I always say. It just wouldn’t do to simply sit around the house all the time like the youth of today seems to. Video games? Hah! So foolish. Now hunting on the other hand, a truly wonderful experience, I highly rec--
Draeden: She meant for you being dead. You look quite healthy for a dead man.
Marius: Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I have to look like some rotting corpse. Really, however do you idiots get by with those inadequate brains you posess?
Draeden: The epitome of charm as ever.
Marius: Indeed. It’d be most appreciated if you were to remove that thing from my face, thank you...
Krystal was pretty close with the EMF detector. She backed off.
Marius: I do not wish to be poked and prodded like a slab of beef.
Krystal: What can you do?
Marius: Well, I used to be rather good at duelling, always enjoyed shooting the ignorant - it’s all they’re good for.
Krystal: No, I meant ghostly things like walking through walls and--
Marius: Oh. Like this?
He put his hand on a nearby shelf. He and the shelf became translucent and the books on the shelf fell through it, crashing onto the floor. Krystal watched in amazement. Draeden hadn’t seen him do anything like that before.
Draeden: I didn’t know you could do that.
Marius: You didn’t ask, imbecile! If I had a penny for every STUPID thing that comes out of your mouth, well, I’d--
Draeden: Enough! We have a problem, this is not helping to solve it. Krystal, you can study Marius another time. Have you learned anything else about the mansion?
Krystal: Only that it’s so haunted nobody, except us, dares go there. We’re the only ones who’ve set foot in there in decades.
Draeden: So where did all the ghosts come from?
Krystal: You mean there’s more than just him?
Marius: I have a name, you know.
They ignored him.
Draeden: Yeah, a bunch of ghosts are smashing the place up as we speak. He says they’ve been there ages.
Krystal: Longer than him?
Draeden shrugged and they both looked at Marius.
Marius: Hmm? Some longer, some not. I don’t understand it, really.
Draeden: Could that mean that the symbol in the basement is like an outlet as opposed to a way of trapping souls? Maybe excess spirits come OUT of there? I’m sure too many at once would overwhelm Georgia.
Krystal: Maybe. That would explain the ghosts turning up.
Draeden: We need to destroy that symbol. Can’t I just tear the wall down?
Krystal: No, it’ll be there in spirit if not physically. Let me look into it, I’ll see what I can find out.
Draeden: Be quick. We need them out as soon as possible.
Krystal: I’ll do what I can.
* * *
The van pulled up at some lights. Draeden drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He turned to Alex who sat in the passenger seat.
Draeden: Hotel?
Alex: I don’t fancy being bombed by furniture in my sleep.
Draeden: Fine. Marius, you’re with me, we’ve got some work to do.
Seeing the road was empty, Draeden pulled out - ignoring the lights and headed for the nearest hotel.
* * *
Draeden opened his eyes. His transition from Kartheon to Ayreon had been smooth but eventful. The last few times he’d visited the world he was wracked with sickness and pain. It subsided quickly, granted, but was not pleasant. This time he’d been given a vivid re-enactment of his past, his time in Foshan. Either way, he didn’t enjoy it. Especially not when Gol’Goroth showed himself to Draeden, wielding threats and hate, though he didn’t pay a great deal of attention to it.
Something else not paying attention was Marius da’Silva. He was absently investigating the room that was Draeden’s bedroom in Kartheon. Draeden didn’t know how da’Silva got out of the knife without him making it happen, though in a way it was fortunate, if anything had been waiting for them then Marius could have at least stuck in its throat until he woke up.
Everything was as they left it when da’Silva’s soul was taken by Apocalypticus’ knife. The spirit picked up his rapier and sheathed it, though didn’t try and do this without Draeden seeing.
Draeden listened. All he could hear was the occasional footstep from Marius as he strolled the room, checking out where he’d effectively been killed. With a grunt, Draeden lifted himself up from the floor and picked up his knife. Marius looked to him and grinned, though he said nothing. Draeden ignored him and walked to the doorway, stepping over the debris of the door they’d destroyed on their last visit.
Marius: And now?
Draeden shrugged. The ghost looked infuriated.
Marius: What!? You brought us here with NO ideas?
Draeden: Other than look around for these ghosts, no, I don’t have any other ideas.
The dead man growled and walked towards the door, peering out.
Marius: Are we going to start moving?
Draeden watched as a tiny spider descended on an invisible web from the ceiling a few inches from his face. He held a hand up to Marius, gesturing for him to wait, and sidestepped the spider, walking towards the window. He looked out at the trees surrounding the mansion and watched for a moment. He didn’t know what he was looking for, he just felt the urge to look out the window. Shaking his head, Draeden turned away and walked towards the door.
Nothing had changed since the last visit. This thought kept running through Draeden’s mind as the pair walked along the corridor towards the staircase. He didn’t think he’d find whatever was haunting the house. As if on cue, a white flash flickered past the end of the corridor, causing Draeden to bolt forward, knife drawn. Marius hurried behind him. At the end of the corridor, Draeden was faced with the bannister and sheer drop to the floor below and nothing on either side.
Too slow.
Marius caught up.
Marius: Why’d you do that?
Draeden: Saw something.
The ghost grunted and headed for the stairs. Draeden took the other side and kept his knife in his grip, ready to strike. As the pair came closer to the ground floor the front door swung open and a hooded-robed figure marched in, one sword in his hand, another on his back. Marius had already jumped over the railing to hit the ground floor and get to the fight sooner. The figure’s head jerked back, knocking the hood down, revealing the blood red hair-framed face of Apocalypticus. Marius hesitated, his sword pointing to the one he’d called a demon, the hate in his eyes burning holes in the red haired man. Draeden reached the bottom of the stairs to see Mentari glaring furiously at da’Silva, his hand slowly reaching over his shoulder for his own sword. He spoke without looking away from the spirit:
Apoc: Control your pet, he may be of more use in one piece.
Draeden gestured to Marius to lower his weapon but the spirit stood fast, his anger winning over his common sense. Draeden stepped in front of Marius and tried to push him back, his hand passed through the ghostly man as if he were naught but air. Apocalypticus cocked an eyebrow in amusement.
Draeden: Back off, damnit!
Marius glared at Draeden, then back at Mentari. He sheathed his sword and turned his back on the two men in frustration.
Draeden: I can’t do this if you two can’t get along, so suck it the fuck up!
Marius: You know how you said you didn’t think we’d find anything?
Draeden grunted and turned around. There was a door to the group’s left, right and also directly in front. Huge, double doors of oak with mighty wrought-iron handles stood between them and the rooms beyond. Emerging from each door were faded white figures, two and three at a time. Apocalypticus grinned as he watched while Marius looked deeply concerned. Draeden narrowed his eyes and yanked his sword free of its scabbard.
Looked like it was time to fight.
