The Vault

14 - Harrowing Truth

His eyebrow rose on my comment. "What do you need to know?"

"I just find it weird that I'm living in a place with no history."

He grabbed the nearest computer and whipped out his library card. As he logged on I thought about the consequences of digging into the past. What if I didn't like what I find? What if something drastic happened and I was powerful to stop it. But if that happened then I would alter something and that would affect everything.

But then I couldn't go on, not knowing what happened to Oscar.

William touched my shoulder. "The computer is all yours."

I breathed out, sitting at the chair and opening up the trusted search engine Google.

William placed his hand behind my chair, gazing down at my hands.

"Wikipedia – really?" he commented.

"Well why not?" I asked, my eyes never leaving the screen.

As I entered the Wikipedia homepage website, I could not help but feel so inclined to type his full name in the search bar.

I heard a buzz sound behind me and William had turned to answer the call. He placed himself to the side and began conversing with a friend of his. Honestly I didn't care as I typed in Oscar Logan Ashford. Internet Explorer is such a pain.

Nothing appeared under his name apart from another link which mentioned Logan Ashford. I guess I had to find something under that. I recognised the man from the extended family portrait as the dark haired man standing next to Oscar. The information below wasn't lengthy. Logan Ashford was immensely rich; having sugar plantations and oils business in America.

It didn't look bad until I came across the reason behind the bankruptcy.

Around the year 1860, Logan's nephew, Victor was notorious for philandering and wasting money through gambling and eventually bankrupted the Ashford fortune and put the Estate up for sale.

My palms began to sweat when Oscars name popped up.

'The reasons behind the disappearance and circumstance of Oscar Logan Ashford's death are unknown to date. A shrine stands in the family commentary to commemorate him.'

There's a reason why a thing called curiosity killed the cat. And I'm the stupid cat that talked myself into this. I reread the lines over and over again but I couldn't register it into my mind.

William sat on the vacant chair beside me and caught a glimpse of the screen.

"So what did I miss?" he asked.

"One of family members blew the Ashford fortune through excessive gambling and then the house went to auction." I paused, scrolling up the screen. "And it also says that the remaining family moved to America and settled there."

"Well there you have it," he commented, leaning across the table. "What else do you need to know?"

I slightly shook my head. "It still doesn't explain what happened to – you know what never mind." I clicked on the red x in the top right corner and turned to William. "I've got what I need and I want to go home."

After much debate, William persuaded me to eat at the Chinese take away. As he busied himself munching his chicken chow mein, I mindlessly played around with my vegetable chow mein. My thoughts reflected back onto the words I read. How can Oscar go missing? Did Victor do something? I know Wikipedia was not a reliable source so I crossed checked with other websites and they all really mentioned the same thing.

Though Oscar's disappearance wasn't a conspiracy theory like the infamous Jack the Ripper case, users gave their opinions about what could have happened to him. Some say his family got him murdered and burned his body, leaving no trace. Others say he could have simply faked his death and started a new life away from the spotlight.

After William drove me home and spent time with Ryder, my sociable mood was eaten by the knowledge I know. My feet found their way to the family cemetery and I found the familiar tombstones. Instead of wandering around, I was in pursuit of a grave I wish I did not find. 

The deeper I went, the colder the air became and I found a killing chill nabbing at my body. I wrapped the coat around and I was about to give up when suddenly a ferocious wind lurched me forward. Falling on my hands and knees, I glanced up and found the most haunting sight.

Buried deep within darkened vines, stood the outline of a dome shaped mausoleum. The swirling patterns in navy, cobalt and white had faded though time yet the marble's grand structure stood defiantly. I moved the vines with my gloved hands and the words appeared on a tarnished black plaque.

"In the loving memory of Oscar Logan Ashford.

Born 23.11.1837 – 21.12 1860 aged 23 years old.

Never found. Declared dead but remains alive within our hearts"

A painful sigh escaped my lips as I fell on my knees. I couldn't be real. His body is never found and a family moves away.

What could have happened to the gentle and caring Oscar Logan Ashford?