Tales from Ravenhearst: Home, Sweet Home

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mystery Case Files: Ravenhearst series. This is an AU of that universe. This was inspired by The Basement Chronicles by SilveRanger on AO3. I highly recommend you read that as well, even though it is not related to this story.

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The spirits were unusually absent on her fifteenth birthday. Though, most likely, they didn't want to be present for what would happen after. There were no gifts, just a cake for celebration. Maddie had never dreaded her birthday as much as she did then.

When Charles informed her that he would have to connect her to those machines like the others, she vehemently protested, crying and screaming. She pleaded with him that she would be a good girl, that she would do everything she was told, but he said that this wasn't about that. He still had yet to find a way to have them live for all of time. He wasn't sure he would find what he was looking for before she started to age. That's why this was necessary. He claimed it was because he wanted all of them to stay together as a family, but she knew it was just to preserve her as she was now, for all eternity. Like a taxidermized animal. The thought of her body disintegrating as time passed, her spirit trapped beneath the earth, terrified her. Charles did his best to console her, but it was no use. In the end, discipline had to be used to "calm her nerves."

He at least allowed her to go outside, to feel the wind and the sun on her skin one last time before he sealed her fate. The detective's arrival was not something she had expected. His promise to her threatened to rekindle a spark in her that had long since been snuffed out. She allowed herself to dream, every night, that she would fly away from this place. But reality came crashing in when her birthday arrived. She knew it was too good to be true. She had let her hopes be refueled only to be let down once more. She berated herself for even thinking about it. She wouldn't feel like this if she had just done as her father instructed. But she was a stupid, little girl. That's why she needed him.

All too soon, the celebration was over. She remained numb while changing into the pure white mourning gown she was given. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but think she was already a ghost. She couldn't see any trace of life in those once vibrant blue eyes. She touched her cheek, noting the paleness of her skin. She stalled for as long as possible before Charles knocked on her bedroom door, wondering what was taking her so long. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, she forced herself to meet her father out in the hallway, placing her hand in his. He led her through the underground labyrinth, the compact brown walls that had been her home for so long. It would soon become her home for all eternity.

Charles took her to a section of the main hallway where she knew he had been building something in, something she didn't want to acknowledge. Now, she had no choice. To the right of the main entrance, a staircase lined with torches led down a short way before ending at a door. This door was fitted with one of Charles' puzzle locks. It consisted of small angel figurines made of metal arranged in a formation mirroring a painting somewhere in this underground home. Once this was over, she knew that her father would take some of the wings after locking the door, hiding them somewhere. If anyone wanted to open it, they would have to find the wings and the clue to solve the puzzle. Nothing but the best for her.

The elegant door swung open, revealing what she had been dreading the most ever since she was taken. A large crypt had been constructed from stone down here, statues of angels carved from the walls. Two were on either side, blowing into trumpets they held in their hands. One was on the far wall, her arms spread wide as if she was descending from heaven. All three were adorned with halos. The angels with the trumpets framed the glass sarcophagus in the middle. A stone tablet was inlaid into the chest of the third angel, words carved into its surface: Madeleine Dalimar 2000-2015. Beloved daughter and sister.