Deadly Spire

This thread is closed for Erlind. We hope you will enjoy the journey with us


Claire stood flat against a tree, trying desperately to control her breathing burning in her lungs. She had been running through the woods, the moonless night sky concealing her from the hunting party hot on her trail.

Her dark hair was matted to her temples, her skin unnaturally pale from exertion and raw fear. Violet blue eyes were unnaturally wide in her face, looking around wildly as she analysed every move ... every sound. She could hear them…

They must not catch me.

Hunching, she moved into the thick underbrush of ferns moving as quickly and as quietly as she could. If she remembered correctly, there was a residence somewhere ahead … but her projection point could be all wrong. For all she knew, she could have passed the house already, in which case: It was too late.

It is not too late … it has to be there. It just has to!

Fifteen minutes later, she tripped over a branch and went hurtling down a ravine. The raucous sent birds flying up into the air, squawking indignantly … painting a bull’s eye on her back. She tumbled to a stop at the bottom of a babbling brook and immediately tried to scurry to her feet. Groaning, she favoured her ankle: twisted and aching. She had no choice. She had to run.

Keep moving … Keep moving.

When she lifted her eyes to the horizon, a light flickered in the darkness and tears sprang to her eyes. She had found it! With renewed hope, she ran as fast as she could, every step bringing her closer to an imposing building looming ahead of her. A wall came into view and her heart constricted with fear as she desperately searched for a way in. Finally reaching a gate, she paused for a split second to cast a furtive glance across her shoulder … turning her blood to ice in her veins, suffocating fear constricting around her chest.

Half a dozen figures materialised from the fern littered forest floor and remained standing at the edge of the woods … watching her.

Run Claire … RUN!!

She ran until it felt as if her legs would give out. The size of the building did not even register … just the fact that it was there was her saving grace. Running up the stairs, her twisted ankle gave way under her, sending her sprawling across the concrete floor, hitting her head hard against a flowerpot.

Half dazed, she crawled the last two steps and banged her fist against the door as hard as she could. The door swung open sending a blinding beam of light from inside to flood across the terrace. With pleading eyes, Claire looked up at the darkened silhouette against the light. Blood was streaming from her temple across her face as she laid huddled into a little ball.

“Please … help,” she gasped, stretching her hand out as if the person in the doorway was her only lifeline.

“Please…” She breathed, before darkness wrapped her in its welcoming embrace.

The wind whipped harshly around Bastille Manor as night fell. The last of the steel restraints clicked into place deep under the manor. They were loose on his wrists, legs, and waist for the moment, but once the sun set that would change.

“Alfred, the wind out there ... Tonight will be a bad night. I can feel it and I don't want you to see it.”

“But if you hurt yourself, sir.”

“You will be here in the morning to mend me.” Alfred was an older man with gray thinning hair who insisted on wearing formal wear each day he served as butler and the most trusted servant to Kendrick Spire, the lord of the Manor. Tonight, like every night, he held a double barrel shot gun. Respecting Kendrick's wishes he left the concrete room behind, barring the steel door on his way out.

Alfred was passing through the entrance hall when a pounding started on the door. He rushed to answer it, but carefully set the shotgun by the door before going to the handle. As he opened the door he was ready to send whoever it was away, protect the secret the manor was built to keep, but he opened the door to something he had not expected. A young woman lay at the door, her face bled and she begged for asylum. In a moment of what Alfred would likely later recount as weakness he stretched out his hand and helped her inside.

“You've made a mistake coming here, dear,” he told her as he helped her across the thresh hold, “This place is meant to be left alone.” He could see she was exhausted and he helped onto a small couch meant for those waiting to be received before closing the door again. Thunder could be heard in the distance, a storm was on its way. “You shouldn't be here, what forced you out on a night like this?”

Alfred's question however would have to wait as more pounding came at the door followed by muffled yells. This time the old man eased the door open only a crack before stopping it with his foot.

“She's in there, there's no where else she could have gone so open it up gramps!” Alfred quickly snatched up the shotgun and pumped it.

“You have made a mistake sir, there is no woman here. The one you seek or otherwise and it would be wise for you to leave now.” From somewhere in the house a tortured scream ripped out, even muffled by layers of concrete and steel the sound was still clear. Unnerved by both the scream and the old man's shotgun, the man at the door back off and Alfred quickly slammed the door shut. Throwing the girl out was no longer an option.

A crackling ribbon of lightning streaked through the sky illuminating the area before a boom of thunder echoed through the night. A wave of relief washed over Claire as the stranger in the doorway helped her inside. His single act of human kindness had just saved her life and she wondered if he was even aware of it.

“Thank you ... thank you,” she kept whispering despite his words of warning. There was simply nothing worse she could imagine. The elderly man led her to a couch and Claire was thankful for the reprieve, her legs simply incapable of carrying her anymore.

“You shouldn't be here, what forced you out on a night like this?”

His questions took her by surprise. How could she possibly begin to explain without him thinking she was insane? She was spared the intent gaze in his eyes as another barrage of banging ensued on the door. Claire could feel the fear tightening around her chest knowing what was outside the door. She wanted to warn him, but before she could he had opened the door.

Sidling off the couch Claire backed away from the door, her eyes stricken with fear. “You have made a mistake sir, there is no woman here. The one you seek or otherwise and it would be wise for you to leave now,” she heard him say as she reversed into a darkened hallway.

Suddenly, an anguished scream sliced through the air. Claire stiffened, her eyes widening as she slowly turned to stare down the hallway ... the men at the door momentarily forgotten. The sound was bloodcurdlingly austere and for a moment Claire wondered whether the gentle old man was really as harmless as he looked.

The imposing front door slammed shut behind Claire, making her jump. Instinctively she flattened herself against the wall, trying to hide as another tortured scream ripped through the house. Whoever it was, was in a great deal of pain. Every instinct in her wanted to reach out and soothe his pain. What was this place? What could possibly make someone scream ... like that?

Claire looked back over her shoulder just in time to see the elderly man slowly walk closer as if he was stalking her.

“Don’t come closer,” she warned, taking a step away from him. “Who is screaming like that?” she demanded, looking at him accusingly. “What are you doing to him?” She asked with a rising sense of dread.

The girl was frightened and Alfred wanted to put away the weapon he held, but he knew her no more than the men outside. The only thing he did know about the girl was that she was desperate and afraid.

“It is a beast, and a dangerous one, but I am doing nothing to it. The animal does that to itself. I would ask any more questions about it be reserved for the master of this house. He will return to us in the morning.” Alfred attempted a friendly smile and wondered how much of the half truths he'd told her she would believe. Quickly his thoughts returned to the present however.

“Besides, I think you should worry more about the men who just came searching for you. I will grant you sanctuary here tonight and let my master decide in the morning what we should do.” Alfred walked back over to the staircase and looked back to see her still unmoved from the spot she'd chosen. Another tortured scream ripped through the night air, it was more beast than man now, but the pain remained clear in it regardless. Alfred hoped his charge didn't hurt himself too badly tonight.

“If you will not let me escort you to the guest room though, I'm afraid I will have to ask you to go back out into the storm.” There was a hint at a joke in his words.

Far beneath Kendrick Spire smelled someone new in his house. A woman he decided. Maybe she would prove to be the key to his cage, maybe she could help the man free the beast. The chained creature continued its screams far into the night, not out of pain or frustration, but to let their visitor know he was there.

A beast…?

Claire’s eyes darted down the corridor again. Her imagination conjured the most horrible creatures. She jumped as another scream rang from somewhere below. This time a menacing deep snarl accompanied it and Claire jumped. Whatever it was, she hoped it could not get into the house.

It made perfectly good sense for this elderly man to wait for the master of the house to return before making any decisions, and she found herself wondering where he was…

For a moment she just stood against the wall staring across the corridor at the wall. She had nowhere to go. Outside they were waiting for her. She was a golden prize for the highest bidder to clinch and they would quite literally kill to have her. In here, there was something menacing dripping from the air: Something frightening.

The elderly man walked away and beckoned Claire to follow him to the guest room. Her eyes darted to him as he expectantly waited at the bottom of the stairs for her. Giving him a wan smile at his attempt at a joke, she slowly pushed herself away from the wall and limped to him, her ankle aching. Alfred took her up a flight of stairs and showed her a lovely little room with an adjacent bathroom. Claire did however lock the door behind him … not quite trusting him yet.

For the first time she let the tears come as she stumbled to the bathroom and crumpled to the floor in the shower. Her dark hair had hidden the blood clotted in it from the cut to her head, which looked superficial. Her ankle was horribly swollen though, and Claire tried to keep her weight off it. Her clothes were torn and ruined.

Out of sheer exhaustion, she crawled into bed naked soaking up the warmth from the fluffy sheets that felt like heaven to her aching body. Claire lapsed into a fitful sleep; her dreams plagued with nightmares of people chasing her … the ominous howl of something sinister echoing in her mind.

The next morning, Claire stood on the landing staring out a massive window at the woods. She could not see anything, but she knew they were there … watching … waiting. Looking hauntingly fragile, her dark violet eyes were stark against her fair skin, dark hair spiralling down her back. She had found a crisp white robe of sorts in one of the cupboards and had tied it around her waist, rolling up the sleeves that were a little too long for her. Her ankle was feeling much better and besides a few minor cuts and bruises, Claire did not look any worse for wear.

She was pensively worrying her bottom lip. What was she going to do?

Kendrick awoke as he did every morning, sore and half hanging in chains. As he slipped out of his bindings, now loose on his human self, he wondered why the woman who had arrived last night had meant so much to the beast in him. His family had visited before, although not in a long time, and his night self had never seen in them what he was seeing in this girl who he hadn't even seen yet. It made him nervous, he would send her away today after breakfast.

“Sir, last night we had a young woman arrive,” Alfred announced suddenly causing him to jump. How the old man always managed to sneak up on him still surprised him.

Kendrick walked over to the metal sink and took the shaving cream off the shelf. Apart from the heavy chains to bind him in the night the spartan concrete room had everything he needed to ready himself in the case of unexpected visitors. “I know. Have her join me for breakfast. I hadn't expected company so it may take some time for me to get ready.” The man spread shaving cream across his face and after washing his hands he unfolded his straight razor and began work on the stubble on his face. “And if she requires fresh clothes have the trunk of clothes my sister left here. She hasn't visited since her marriage, I doubt she'll miss them.”

“Of course, sir.”

* * *

A knock came at the door of the guest room. The servant that had helped Alfred move the old trunk was already returning to the kitchen to help with the breakfast preparation as the older man cracked the door open. He didn't dare open it further, but he wanted to be sure she heard him.

“Breakfast will be served when you are ready. I have left some clothes which may fit you in the hall if you wish to change. My lord will join you in the dining room downstairs once he has readied himself.” Alfred heard the young woman moving in the room and took that as response enough. She would hear the old man's dress shoes against the wood floor of the hallway as he left.

Claire slowly returned to her room, her footsteps falling silently on the rich, glossy wood floor. There was not a soul around. The entire corridor was lined with doors and rooms that all appeared to be empty, even the master bedroom of which the door had been wide open the entire night.

Perplexed, Claire contemplated the unusual circumstances. The only person she had seen so far was a butler, from the looks of it. As the sun rose over the horizon she noticed a few servants walking brusquely about, but they all avoided her like the plague. Where did the mysterious master of the house sleep last night? She had no room to speak though, her situation was even stranger. The fact that fate had brought her to this specific doorstep saved her life … but what was the reason?

There was a knock at the door and Claire jumped. The door opened on a crack and she heard the butler’s request. The words ‘my lord’ caught her attention, fuelling her curiosity. Who referred to himself as ‘my lord’ in this day and age?

She wanted to ask where the dining room was, but before she could, he had disappeared. Opening the door, Claire stared down at a massive trunk and frowned. Five minutes later, the trunk was standing in the middle of the room and Claire was silently swearing at the butler for leaving it outside the door.

The clothes it contained were beautiful though. Whomever it belonged to was possibly a little taller than Claire was, but the size was more or less spot-on. A deep blue summery dress caught her eye, and Claire slipped into it. Surprised at how well it fit, she went about making herself look presentable to the master of the house before stepping out of her room, feeling nervous. She knew that he would probably not allow a complete stranger to stay in his home for much longer and she felt apprehension coil around her throat at the thought of stepping outside the house.

Trying to stay calm, Claire walked down the staircase and found the dining room through an adjacent room from the foyer. The room was deserted and Claire slowly walked to one of the windows, staring out at the woods. Fear and uncertainty danced in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around her waist, wondering about her mysterious host.

“May I introduce the head of Bastille Manor, Lord Kendrick Spire,” Alfred's voice rang out in the dining room as Kendrick walked in to see his guest for the first time. It had been a long time since a woman other than family had visited, not that his family visited with any frequency.

“Alfred, for the love of all things good, stop telling people I'm a lord. My family is rich, not royalty. I barely tolerate you calling me sir.”

“Of course, sir,” Alfred responded with a knowing smile. Kendrick wore the gray suit he reserved for visitors. His brown hair was still ragged and a bit longer than he would have liked, threatening to fall over his green eyes, but his transformation each night made keeping his hair the way he liked difficult at best. Still he hoped he cleaned up himself well enough, because he found himself hoping he might impress this mysterious woman.

He sat at the place next to his guest as the table. As he sat two servants came out and placed before them serving plates of scrambled eggs, sliced melon, sausages, and biscuits for them to take as they wished. The cook must have been excited to have an excuse to cook something more than oatmeal for the morning meal. Sometimes he wished he knew the servants of the house better, but they all knew only enough to be afraid of him. Only Alfred ever offered him any companionship in the manor.

“Tell me about yourself,” he uneasily requested of his guest, finally having some one to talk to and he was having trouble finding the right words. “All I know is that Alfred offered you a bed last night. I'd like to know who I put up for the night.”

Claire jumped as she heard the butler’s voice booming through the dining room. Swivelling around she was just in time to see someone walking through the door, a soft frown flitting across her brow in surprise. She had expected someone much older having been referred to as ‘lord’. He was most probably in his twenties, tall, lean. He had the ragged hairstyle down to an art that made him look sophisticated in his suit ... beautiful emerald eyes...

Claire abruptly dropped her gaze to the floor, a slight blush adorning her cheeks. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips at their little interlude about his title. Finally, she knew what both their names were: Alfred and ... Kendrick. Her eyes snapped up, stealing a glance at him from under her lashes.

Walking around the table she offered her hand to him in greeting. “I’m Claire,” she said. Alfred politely held a chair for her and as she sat, Kendrick took the seat next to her. On cue, two servants appeared seemingly from thin air, presenting a scrumptious breakfast to them. It felt as if she had been transported to the past, the feel distinctly 18th century.

Immediately nervous, she inspected the table and contemplated how best to use the shining cutlery. The food looked divine and for an awkward moment she was not too sure if she should dish first, or whether her host should. Claire hesitantly dished first, small helpings of each, her nerves getting the best of her.

“Tell me about yourself. All I know is that Alfred offered you a bed last night. I'd like to know who I put up for the night.”

Claire nearly choked on her food. The question sounded so brash ... as if she had intruded on him. Her eyes shot to him and his expression seemed uneasy, he probably did not get the opportunity to speak to allot of people, she guessed.

“I ... uhm, please forgive my intrusion, I did not mean to barge in on you so unannounced,” she said quickly, feeling mortified. “I am Claire Anderson, and I ... eh, managed to get lost in your woods.” She was not too sure whether she should call him by his name or a more formal Mr Spire.

Claire nervously placed her hands in her lap, twisting them as she tried to avoid his gaze. How could she possibly tell him why she was here? That she deliberately sought out this place because it was the only thing that could save her.

“Thank you so much for the hospitality, the room is gorgeous and the clothes are beautiful,” she said, self-consciously smoothing her hands across the material in her lap. “I will try and find my way out of here as soon as breakfast is done,” Claire said as the colour visibly drained from her features, her eyes darting to the window ... the woods beyond.

Kendrick had forgotten what it was like to talk with someone who wasn't there either to serve him or judge him. Claire's nervous reaction flustered him as well. He suddenly felt terrible for the way he'd addressed her.

“Claire, I'm sorry. I'm the one being rude, its just been a while since I've had normal company. My name is Kendrick Spire, though you may call me Ken if you'd like,” he told her trying to put her a little at ease.

“And I don't see any reason you have to rush off if you'd like to stay. I have more than enough room here and frankly I could use the company for a little while.”

A cough from the other side of the room drew his attention back to his faithful servant, “Sir?”

“It will be fine Alfred,” he sternly insisted before turning back to Claire, “unless you don't want to stay. I'm sure you have places you need to be.” Kendrick felt like a boy in school again talking to Claire. It would have been nice to have anyone to talk with for a while, but he was secretly glad it was this attractive young woman. He'd be a fool to think they could really have anything together, he didn't even know her yet, but Kendrick couldn't help himself from wondering.

“Claire, I'm sorry. I'm the one being rude, its just been a while since I've had normal company. My name is Kendrick Spire, though you may call me Ken if you'd like,”

He seemed distressed, almost angry at himself for what he had said and what was more was the fact that he seemed just as nervous as she was, if not more. Something deep inside her stirred. He seemed so lonely … desperate for someone to talk to. She could not help to wonder how long he has been here in the middle of nowhere with only servants for company. Claire had to fight the urge to put her hand atop his … to give him a warm hug. He seemed like he needed it.

“Ken it is then,” she said, smiling into his eyes as she affirmed his name.

Relief washed over Claire at his invitation for her to stay. She was spared a barrage of questions atop that. “I would love to stay,” she said softly, frowning at Alfred’s concern. Being a devoted servant, Claire hazarded a guess that Alfred had ‘his lord’s’ best interest at heart.

“I promise I won’t be any trouble,” she added, more for the benefit of putting Alfred’s mind at ease. Their peculiar reaction to that comment caused another light frown.

“There was something howling very close to the house last night,” she said informatively as she took a bite of her toast, her attention on the jar of apricot jam across the table.

Alfred glared at her from across the room when Claire asked her question, but Ken seemed more nervous than upset.

“Don't let this chase you off Claire, but that was a timber wolf. It stumbled into a hunter's trap and I've been helping it recuperate. Its sick, angry, and not safe to let out, for itself as well as others.”

“Nasty beast,” Alfred commented, but this time it was Kendrick that had a foul look for his servant.

“I'm sorry if it frightened you. He may be like that a while longer, but don't worry, he can't get out.” He continued with his breakfast taking a little time to enjoy it. Since he normally ate alone Kendrick normally just had oatmeal or something equally simple. He'd forgotten how nice change could be sometimes.

“I still need ask why you were out here in the first place though,” Ken told her, “Alfred won't leave me alone about it if I don't.” He smiled at Claire. He couldn't help, but be a little curious about his visitor.

Claire smiled back at him, desperately trying to hide her apprehension at his question. Taking the time to butter her toast, she tried to stall, giving herself time to think.

“I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she said honestly. Her eyes flitted to Alfred where he stood along the wall at attention. “I am indebted to you Alfred, to both of you … you saved my life,” she said sincerely. “Thank you,” her eyes dropping to her toast, idly sitting in her hand … a sudden lump in her throat.

The threat was still there though. It was only a matter of time before they would become bold enough to penetrate Kendrick’s home. Claire was not in the right frame of mind to consider it yet, nor did she have enough courage to admit to either of them that she had no idea where she was. There was no place safe.

“Do you enjoy being out in the country?” Claire ventured, in hope of either of them slipping their exact location into the answer.

She was scared, but she didn't trust him enough to tell him what was really going on. Kendrick couldn't blame her though, the two of them had only just met and he certainly had no intention and revealing his dark secret to her.

“It can be lonely,” Kendrick told her, “but there are much worse things than being lonely sometimes so I try to be grateful.” Suddenly he realized how depressing that must sound so he decided to try to seem a bit more cheerful.

“Would you like a tour of my home, Claire? My parents spared no expense when they built this place, so I'm sure we'll find something you'll like.” Kendrick stood and extended his hand to her. He'd only eaten half of what he'd taken onto his plate, but he was more excited than hungry. Though the house had become stale to him he knew the manor was certainly impressive.

Dark eyes were staring across the room, a raw almost palpable anger rippling from him.

“She disappeared, Sire,” a scrawny man with tousled hair said, cringing at the inevitable explosion that was about to ensue.

“What do you mean she disappeared?!” His voice boomed through the room like a gunshot.

“The hunters were chasing her Sire, and she just disappeared.”

He steepled his hands together resting his chin on it as he considered his latest captive. From the sheer amount of interest her profile generated, it was safe to say that his researchers found the perfect match for his clients’ discerning tastes. Flicking the file open he stared down at a photo of Claire, his eyes narrowing. He knew she was intelligent but how the hell she managed to escape a host of 12 hunters with tracking dogs was beyond him. He was almost tempted to call the hunt off and search for her himself ... it would be a thrill to ‘spend some time’ with a woman who would actually be a challenge.

Dark eyes snapped up, promising grievous bodily harm if his wishes were not met, “She is worth ten million dollars ... FIND HER!!”


Kendrick was like an excited child, wanting to show her his home. It made her feel carefree and relaxed just being around him. Taking his hand, he led her through the house showing her the mastery in the architecture, the exquisite fixtures and finishes and the sheer opulence of the rooms. Calling it a house was a gross understatement, it more resembled the title of mansion.

Claire walked through each room, letting her hand trail across the rich and textured upholstery or even just letting her eyes roam across the draping that adorned each window. She was also taking careful note of possible places to hide, escape routes ... drawing a mental blue plan of the house in her mind. She could not stay here long ... she would have to move ... soon.

“Your home is lovely Kendrick,” she said as they reached the foyer, her hand still in his. Staring down at their entwined fingers, she wondered why it felt so comfortable ... as if she had done this before, known him before. Her eyes slowly meandered up to his, staring into them for a moment. The look she found there made something inside her want to reach out to him.

Clearing her throat and dropping her eyes to the floor, Claire turned slightly. “What is down there?” she asked, pointing to the passageway she had walked down the previous night, the memory of the unearthly howl still fresh in her mind.

Kendrick proudly showed his home to his guest. He pointed out his favorite pieces of art and explained about interesting parts of the architecture. He also showed her that despite appearances the house was actually fairly modern. The manor was designed with solar panels on the roof, out of sight and a efficient heating system that ran through the floors and sensed where people tended to stay in the house and heated accordingly. In the living room Kendrick showed her the flatscreen tv that looked like a framed picture when not in use and that it could also hook into the Manor's security cameras that were placed in key parts of the house. The manor almost seemed new to him now that he was showing it around to someone else.

Then Claire stopped him at the entrance to the sub basement. It was a sharp reminder that he was not just another man, he was a monster waiting for its chance.

“Claire, at breakfast you didn't really tell me why you were out this far when I asked. I don't need to know and I won't press it. My home is open to you except down there. Please, just trust me and forget about it.” His voice was hurt as he spoke. She had done nothing wrong, but this was just the first time in a long while he was reminded what it meant to be what he was.

“Besides,” he told her cheering up considerably, “I haven't even shown you my library yet. Its my favorite part of the house. I'm sure you'll love it.”

Claire frowned slightly at his reaction, guilt washing over her. He somehow made her feel as if he was hiding something from her as much as she was. Her eyes drifted to the open hallway … her mind dwindling to what lay beyond. There was something there Ken did not want her to see … which made her want to defy his wishes just to know.

Looking back at him she said softly, “I’m sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She watched as he cheered up, his mood swings giving her whiplash. The man was a puzzle … an enigma and Claire was dead-set on figuring him out. His emerald eyes seemed to shimmer at the mention of his library. “I’m sure I will love it,” she said his cheeriness contagious. Tentatively taking his hand Claire let him lead her down another corridor away from the one that was staring at her like a gaping void of questions.

The library was filled to the ceiling with dark wood shelves housing a veritable mountain of books. Some were old, bound in different colours of leather and intermittently dappled with newer titles. Claire slowly ran her fingers across them, each a different world … a glimpse into the unknown. “You are right, I do love it,” she said turning and smiling into Ken’s eyes.

Kendrick began showing Claire all of his favorite books. He had first editions, ones that had only just barely been published, and some of his favorites were in their original languages. He explained that he had a lot of time out here on his own, though he avoided ever saying why or even offering a lie, and that he'd learned spanish just to read Don Quixote in the original text.

“Not everything is old and musty though,” he explained to her at one point as he showed her some of his more current books. He'd find books online that were well reviewed or by his favorite authors and have them shipped. There was only one little town anywhere nearby and even if he was willing to risk it they didn't have a bookstore.

Alfred served them lunch and they ate at a table Kendrick sometimes used for studying. It was grilled cheese and tomato soup. It was simple, but it had always been a favorite meal of his since he'd been very young. Alfred pulled him aside for a moment and whispered to him before leaving them to eat.

“Claire, I hope you don't mind, but I promised I'd work on something for Alfred this afternoon. I guess it makes me a poor host, but will you be alright on your own until tomorrow? I don't know how long it will take me. You're welcome anywhere in the house. Dinner is at six in the dining room and if you need anything you can find Alfred or one of the other servants.” Last night he'd nearly pulled the mounting for one of his chains out of the wall and some of the rest of his nightly bindings needed work as well. Alfred wasn't willing to risk anything with a stranger in the house and honestly neither was he. Kendrick hated leaving her alone for so long, but he didn't see he had much of a choice.

Claire had spent the afternoon in the library, lost between the pages of a book that managed to grab her from the opening chapter. So enthralled was she, that Alfred had to remind her of dinner.

Sitting alone at the dining table, Claire nibbled on her food, her eyes invariably wandering to the empty seat beside her that Ken had filled that morning. A frown furrowed across her brow. The whole thing was odd. Him, being missing had something to do with Alfred. Her eyes slowly scanned the room almost expecting to find him standing there. He was not though.

She had only seen Alfred when he came to fetch her for dinner and not since.

The house was almost desolate … devoid of life without Ken. Claire had wandered the hallways, retracing their steps of the morning, careful to avoid the ominous doorway. She had excused herself to her room early, standing at her bedroom window and staring from her darkened room. The forest looked menacing. She could not see anything … but she knew they were there.

Finally climbing into bed, Claire laid staring at the ceiling. A while later, Alfred cracked the door open and peered inside, finding Claire pretending to be fast asleep. He quietly closed the door again and Claire heard his footsteps disappear down the hallway and across the courtyard as Alfred retired for the evening.

The ungodly howls soon ensued and Claire lay listening, eyes wide.

Fuelled by curiosity, she scrounged together the courage to change into something simple and to sneak down to the forbidden hallway. The howls seemed to grow in intensity the closer she got. Sidestepping down the corridor, Claire slowly walked down a flight of stairs she had found at the end. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she found a door at the bottom of the stairway.

The howl was deafening and stopped Claire dead in her tracks as she stood frozen, staring at the door … bolted quite securely from the outside. Whatever was in there, was definitely not coming out. She took another step closer, lifting her hand and hesitantly placing it on the deadbolt…

Kendrick had hoped to perhaps see her again, if briefly, before dinner, but there wasn't any time for it. He hadn't been keeping up with the maintenance as he should have and last night several of the steel bindings had very nearly ripped loose. Alfred popped into the spartan room sporadically to check on his progress or bring down extra screws or the like.

“She shouldn't be here ...” his butler started, but Kendrick stood up from his work and snapped back at him.

“Not even any of my family, who I hate, have felt guilty enough to visit me in nearly two years! It may seem small, but you go into town, chat with the help, and even get time off, Alfred. I don't get any respite from this prison. She made me feel like I haven't spent half of my life alone, today. If she wants to stay, I will not send her away.” Alfred nodded and tried to apologize, but Kendrick wouldn't let him. He hadn't done anything wrong, he was only worried about him. Kendrick ate an early dinner as usual and finished his work just in time. Alfred tested it all for him and then the young man slipped into each of the carefully made steel bindings. Wrists, forearms, ankles, thighs, chest, and neck.

“Keep an eye on her tonight for me, Alfred,” he told his faithful servant, “I may not like it, but you're right. Having her here is dangerous.” Alfred nodded and then locked the steel cage behind him. Once he did, beyond the prison bars, a man became on monster locked to that steel chair.
As he transformation completed he began his tortured howlings again. All he could remember about the woman from the day was that he'd liked her. It was not useful information, but the memories of his other self were like seeing the bleed through of a picture drawn with a child's markers. Only the heaviest lines were clear. The rest of his knowledge of her was deduced from the little information he could gather himself. She wasn't family. She had been scared on arrival, but since calmed down. She was young. He would draw her down here eventually. If not tonight, sometime before she left.

Then his howling ceased. She was outside his door. He had been willing to be patient, but this was excellent. Still, there was an act to play if he was to get anything out of her. He gave a low growl as the bolt came undone, but stopped when the door eased open. Beautiful. Oh, the things he could do to her.

“Who are you!? What do you want with me?!” The beast snapped defensively at her as if her presence was a complete surprise to him. He was twice the size of a normal man and bulged out of the chair the had been a little large for his human self. Thick brown fur was only punctuated by the bright steel bands that kept him in place. Long white teeth showed when he spoke. The only aspect of him that at all resembled what he became during the day were his eyes. It wasn't easy to notice, but he had spent many years trying to get free of the monster that restrained him each night.

Claire hesitated for a moment, staring pensively at the door … and the hidden secret behind it. Whatever was in there, both Ken and Alfred did not want her to see.

Her heart rate quickened as she undid the lock. Her efforts were greeted by a low, resonating growl. Claire retracted her hand and stood staring at the door that had opened a slither. It was quiet again. There was something beyond the door that beckoned her to enter and as she pushed the heavy door open … Claire stepped inside, keeping the door half open in case she needed to bolt it shut again.

Shock…

Claire stood rooted to the floor, her eyes wide as she stared at … it.

It looked like an overgrown man, covered in a thick layer of dark brown fur. He watched her intently, intelligence glinting in his eyes. Securely bolted into a chair with thick steel bands, Claire was quite sure there was no way he could escape his chains. Her eyes softened for a moment, wondering how long it has been kept in this room…

Claire’s eyes slid across the room, taking in the design and structure. It was almost as if this room was designed specifically for him. The room was mostly dark, illuminated by the light of the moon streaming through slats along the top of the walls. Even they were designed to keep its occupant inside.

“Who are you!? What do you want with me?!”

It spoke.

Claire gasped, taking a bewildered step back. It spoke? The expression on her face was flitting between an incredulous frown and abject terror. She had never imagined anything like this existed … they were not real. Half man … half wolf creatures only existed in books... movies...

“I’m dreaming,” she whispered to herself … the unmistakable presence before her completely belying the words. Her chest was rising and falling in rapid concession, his eyes keeping hers captive, fear flickering in her eyes.

“Claire … my name is Claire,” she stammered, standing as far away from him as she could. His incisors had been clearly visible as he spoke and she could only imagine how terrifying he would be, standing at his full length. “I … I don’t want anything from you,” she added, watching him intently, unnerved by his eyes that narrowed on her every move.

“What are you? Where did you come from?” Claire blurted, circling around slowly to the opposite wall.

“What is your name?”

He listened to all of her questions, but her first comment stuck in his mind and wouldn't quite let go. A dream. “This is not a dream, its a nightmare!” he shouted at her, throwing himself against his bonds. Claire jumped just a little and looked like she was about to leave. He needed to keep his temper, for now.

“I'm sorry, don't go,” he growled at her, still trying to settle his anger, “I know nothing about myself. I can't remember and they won't tell me. The brat calls me beast or filthy monster, and the old man never says a word to me. They keep me down here, torture me. Are you here to set me free, Claire?”

He couldn't give her his real name, he was still the Kendrick she had been getting to know. The wolf was just a different part of him. He needed her to let him loose, so he could go from there. His other half needed Alfred's help to completely restrain himself, so all he had to do was kill the old man and any one else who might help the human brat.

For a moment his eyes left Claire and scanned the rest of the room. The key to his cage was there, hanging on the wall, but Alfred had taken the key to his restraints. Perhaps he could talk the girl into killing the old man for him. If she let him have the chance she would be useful for many reasons. His eyes returned to her and stared into her. He could give her the words and the room itself lent credence to his claim, but it was hard to hide what he was. The dark emotions that ruled him at night always boiled up and it was all he could do not to lunge at her even knowing in his current state there was nothing he could do.

A horrified frown crossed Claire’s expression. They were keeping him prisoner down here? Torturing him?

Claire’s eyes flew through the room. Everything he claimed seemed true from the chair that he was chained to right through to the fact that the door was securely bolted shut from the outside. She could not however believe that Kendrick ... the kind, gentle man who had shown her through his home and has invited her to stay under his roof ... would do such a thing.

“I don’t believe you,” Claire breathed, slowly circling back to the door. She shouldn’t have come down here. “My instincts are telling me that you are dangerous and I am sure Kendrick and Albert have a good reason for keeping you locked up down here,” she said. Something inside her cringed at the words though. What kind of life was it to be chained to a chair in steel bands?

She stopped for a moment, her sense of right warring with her instincts. She couldn’t leave him down here either. “What would you do if I freed you?” she asked tentatively.

She was scared, but it was important she trusted him more than his other half if she didn't free him tonight. Claire could already see his anger so he needed to be careful how he lied to her and what about.

“I would kill the people who did this to me so they could never do it again. Never do it to me or anyone else. Then I would go and try to take back my life. I am a monster, but I would like to live free.” The kernels of truth in those words made them strangely hard to say to her and for the first time that night his voice had truly been calm. He breathed heavily continuing to calm himself while he stared at her and wondered what he might do to her if she did manage to free him.

“You're too scared of me to help me though aren't you, little girl. You're going to let them keep doing this to me and probably just try to forget you ever saw me down here. You don't have to worry. The key to my bindings isn't even here. You can't let this monster loose. If you're willing just to see behind the bars though, the cage key is right there.” He stared at the peg on the wall where the key hung to let her know where it was. Even if she never let him go, he liked taunting this girl. It was fun.

His anger was a living, palpable thing that seemed to ripple from him … it scared her. He was vehemently trying to keep it in check, but Claire was not too certain for whose benefit though.

His words, “I am a monster, but I would like to live free,” struck a chord and in that moment, Claire felt a sense of remorse for the life he led. It kindled the urge for her to fight his cause against Kendrick and Albert … but to kill them? Claire slowly shook her head from side to side.

“I will not free you at the cost of another’s life,” she said determinedly, recoiling from him as he looked at her as if she was a tasty morsel to savour. There was no doubt that Claire found him terrifying and yet she found herself strangely drawn to him … fascinated.

He knew how to push her buttons though, as he played the guilt card. Predicting what she would do and making her feel bad about it in advance. Turning slightly, Claire spotted the keys where they hung affixed to a hook against the wall. There were no guarantees of her safety, nor would the action of freeing him bode well for Kendrick and Albert. Claire shook her head again in denial as she turned to face him again, his eyes holding hers captive.

The irony of the situation was almost amusing. They were both hunted … both at the mercy of another with no means of escape. A sardonic little smile tugged at her lips as Claire leaned back against the wall and sunk down against it until she sat on the floor … staring at the wolf. Steeping her hands on her knees, Claire rested her chin atop them, contemplating the half-man, half-wolf, being bound in his chair. It certainly felt as if she aught to be in the middle of a dream … and yet, it was real.

“How did this happen to you?” She asked, frowning slightly.