Honeycombs and Bittersweets

Chapter Three ~ A Tragic Twist of Fate

Chapter Three

A Tragic Twist of Fate

Patches of what once was there was left evidently behind on the dark walls of the narrow corridor, which once used to be exquisitely lit with polished bronze wall lights with decorated glass shades. The wallpaper was ancient and the patterns badly faded where there was no recognition to what it once looked like, the colour was drained of life and became dark and dull making the dark corridor looking miserable, dark and haunted. The dry wooden floorboards were starved of polishing shine as the corridor was abandoned many years ago as the west wing had been become derelict and dangerous, as the wallpaper had become lumpish like bubbles and started to peel and curl at the bottom above the dust coated skirting boards revealing a mildew plastered wall. The mildew grew like untamed weeds sprouting underneath the paper, the once dark rich mahogany beams that hung and decorated the high ceiling was hanging from rusted nails and hinges as the beams hang loosely touching the floor leaving large deep scratches on the floor. Some were lodged tightly from the ceiling to the other side of the wall trapping itself where it could not be moved, while others lay on the floor where they had fell leaving small splinters and chippings of old crumbling wood.

No-one had any business to go into the West Wing as it was a dangerous, unstable place, the rooms in the corridor could no longer be used and the furniture long gone or replaced. Only one man had business in this grim corridor as he walked further down in to the wing, he needed no assistance with light as he knew these corridors his whole entire life. He was used to the dark as his golden brown eyes seemed to adjust almost instantly as he was able to climb over, duck and dodge the fallen beams without tripping or stumbling as he continued to proceed further into the abandoned part of the house. He could hear the moaning ghostly draught blowing from under the closed doors, as if ghosts had inhabited the neglected rooms where they began to haunt and blow in their deathly chill, as each and every one of the rooms were open to the elements.

The cold did not bother him at all as he had long learned to endure the coldness that blew into his family home ever since he was a child, the haunting noises did not make his heart skip a beat from fright as he was not a man to easily to scare. He walked casually through the narrow darkness making the floor creak with every step he took knowing that he was now close to what he had come for; he came to a sudden halt as he faced a closed plain black door that looked no different than any other of the doors he had passed. The paint seemed to crumble and peel away by the slightest touch no matter how delicately to touch it. This was the very reason why he had come to this cold, damp and dangerous place. He only prayed that he was not too late as he stood in front of the door, listening for a sign as the deathly silence continued. At first he could feel a lump form uncomfortably in his throat where he found it hard to breathe, the worst already becoming more likely as the thought became more real. Until a sound he thought was no longer likely quietly erupts from behind the door as the sound of crying and sniffles welcomingly flooded his large ears, the knot in his throat began to untie where he found himself able to breath in the cold air.

He reached for the dull dark brass door handle without hesitation as he could feel the intense ocean breeze fill the room, it was bitter cold for he knew this was a room not fit to place a human being. As he opened the door a great gosh of wind blew his hair backwards in all directions, he stood still holding the door still against the strong wind. The coldness pierced his skin making his cheeks red, dry and sore it was much dangerous then he remembered as he stayed at the open large room.

It was wide open room long exposed to all the natural elements, the floor creaked as he proceeded to walk into the room as the wind died down. It had been a long time since he had last been in this room and he could see that the room had become more uninhabitable then it once was. The room was dark as there were no signs of candles of lanterns placed in the room, as the only source of available light came from the huge gaping hole in the roof where the moonlight was free to roam around the room illuminating the small inhabitable rotten furniture. The floors suffered horribly from starvation, protection and colour making the room look like a forgotten relic, mildew grew on the walls stretching all over the grey ceiling where odd looking broken black chains hang swaying in with the movement of the breeze. The wallpaper was almost black and completely ripped off the walls revealing damaged plaster and tinted paper. He could see in the illuminating light millions of tiny dust particles falling slowing down to the starved ground from the ceiling like pouring rain.