About two miles from the gate on the straight oak-lined road, a black castle emerged. The temperature dropped, the emptiness blue, the leaves whispering. The musky, earthy fragrance scented the air. This was Everett's. He smelled like his home.
"I don't know whether this is luxury or creepy." John craned out the window when the engine stopped.
The Watts Mansion reminded Cyan of Dawn Cathedral. They were built with the same material, but only one survived. Two majestic structures in the same locality was a calculated competition.
While four men jumped from the tailgate, the residents of the mansion marched through the grand front door. John tugged at the rope on a mound of white cloth. Cyan should help them, but a black flag above the conservatory was waving at her.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." John walked to the Watts boys. Four of them were there, but this house could have hosted the whole clan. "We've got a delivery for Mr. Watts. Could you show us the way to the South Hall?"
"Sure." Luke stepped forward. "Do you want some help with that?"
"We got it," replied Grant.
Cyan took a step back and dodged between the workmen. Despite her insignificant input, she determined to be a part of the force. Truthfully, Cyan was nervous about coming here, but John was leaving. Every minute with him was precious.
"Let me help you with that." Will slid in between Cyan and Kevin.
"Thank you," Cyan said and wilted. Will was Bill Watts. And although Bill Watts was generous, he was the king.
"I got it, Cyan." Everett pulled Cyan out of the formation by the arms.
Everett found Will intolerable, and the latter hated working alongside his brother. Cyan knew how it was. Corinne and the girls explained it to her many times. This happened to every new girl in town. The Watts boys liked to win. But when the game was over, they tossed away the toy.
Through the front door, the carpeted stairs cascaded down the foyer. This castle was another world, colder than the air of the forest, the ceiling dark like the night sky. The cherubs flew in the corners and on the metal reliefs. The house, like its crumbling neighbor, embraced gothic influence. Cyan stared at one baby angel, his cheeks holding solid tears.
"Cute, hmm?" Luke asked.
Cyan dropped her chin, and Luke towered in front of her. Although the statues saddened Evil in her, Luke's humor induced a smile.
"We even have them in the bathrooms," Luke said and tossed his head in the direction of the convoy.
"Why are they crying?" Cyan asked.
"Look at this place, Cyan. You'll cry, too, if you have to live here for the rest of your life."
Simon slapped the back of Luke's head, and Luke giggled. The Watts boys were very physical—they enjoyed futile competitions. Aggression was their way of endearment. They were really just boys. Cyan wondered what they would do to each other when they became men.
The good was enormous, but the men and two Watts boys steadily transported it to the South Hall, a colossal room with golden fabrics draping the windows. Two indoor fountains gushed from the stone floor, the Watts beauties smirking from the walls of canvases, black crystal chandeliers quiet on the ceiling.
Bill Watts strutted in the hall as John unveiled the art through the layers of cloths and bubble wraps. The marvelous black wood gleamed. The design was all Watts Clan's style: sulky cherubs herding equines. In the middle, a gold moondial set above the pendulums similar to a feature of a grandfather clock. John explained that the artsy machine commended full moons, not minutes and hours.
YOU ARE READING
The Grave Shadows
Paranormal"Father! I'm sorry about yesterday." "When people catch you like that, Everett, your head and legs are free. Don't let anyone stop you without giving him hell. When I was twelve, I saw a man like you with a bullet hole in his back escape a clutch of...
