Burning Up (M.YG+ P.JM)

Ch 02| Gargoyle Mansion

I straightened up,and checked my watch which read the time as six fifty eight. A breathed easily, congratulating myself for not screwing things up in stage one itself.

The woman in question bustled towards me,  in a black and white suit, red handbag and black stilted heels. Her hair was put up in a neatly done bun, and a small look on her face hinted that she was indeed pleased with my performance.

"Well, Mr.Min, I am happy to know that you weren't a waste to hire after all, please, go on with your duties, I will have your key prepared by the end of the day," She said, bidding a quick farewell before speed walking to a black BMW that pulled up front. And in a second, she was gone.

The mansion was quiet now, only the faint voices of the maids and the clutter from the main kitchen breaking the emptiness that swallowed the house in its entirety. I slowly began to climb the countless stairs, but soon broke into a faster pace, remembering that breakfast had to be on the trolley by seven thirty.

"A simple meal of pancakes can be managed,"I thought as I raced into the kitchen and threw on the grey apron that hung from a peg on the side, with some kind of new found energy, initiated by fear rather than excitement. And in the matter of a mere eight minutes the batter was ready, and so was the trolley and the empty plates.

 I began to ladle in the thick, yellowish batter onto the frying pan, reveling in the rich smell of vanilla that wafted through the otherwise grey and cold space of the third floor.It was as if life had been injected into a formerly lifeless body.

And soon I had stacked the pancakes neatly on top of each other, topped with some strawberries, and put a small pish posh type of glass jug filled with chocolate sauce on the side. Covered up, and ready to go.

I pushed the trolley over to the room as cautiously as I possibly could, and wondered if I should dare to knock on the door. It was not like the food was going to inform  whatever was inside that it was waiting outside the door.

I balled my fist and knocked lightly; once, twice- before softly adding a "Your breakfast is ready," to the rustling sounds I heard from behind the surprisingly warm door. I shifted on my feet and waited for the door to open, but the woman's words echoed through my mind.

"No matter what you do, never- never look inside the room,"

I moved away, and turned a full hundred and eighty degrees as the door creaked open. It was like the sound that old doors of cupboards made, when they were opened after being kept out of use for a decent amount of time.

I stood there, facing the glossy door of the refrigerator, and saw the action that accompanied the sound. A glint of movement caught my eye.

I was not supposed to look. But there was somebody in there.

No- I shouldn't look.

I raced away, almost scrambling to get away from what I might see- this time towards the flat screen television which was far away from the room and the kitchen, and sank into the extremely comfortable leather couch, holding my breath. 

I heard the door begin to close, and I was reminded of breakfast.

A small wisp of smoke escaped the room as the door closed with a thud, and as I approached the closed door again, I saw the little wisp disappear, mixing effortlessly into the dimness of the seating area.

So, whoever was in there, was a smoker.

Not that it bothered me, it rather confused me a bit further. Why would some one hide away just because they smoked? I thought as I sat at the kitchen counter, digging into the pancakes I had saved for myself. My stomach whirred in appreciation as the carbs entered my system, the sugar giving me an instant kick of energy.

I appreciated the new weight that settled comfortably in my shrunken stomach.

Food was definitely a luxury.

And as planned, the time passed, uneventful, yet preoccupied by the strange secret that was contained behind the warm door of room 23. Could it be possible that he smoked until the entire room filled with it, so much so that the door heated, like those men did in many an old movie?

Lunch, and then dinner.My thoughts kept me occupied, and  I kept the trolley in front of the door on both occasions, knocked thrice and went over to the couch. I found that I was slowly falling into a rhythm, which was good, since robotic routines seemed kinder than having the constant theories and assumptions of the mystery behind that door racking inside my brain. 

Nobody came upstairs for the entirety of my twelve hour shift, which made me wonder a little bit more about the whole thing, but I assured myself. "Soon, Curious Min, soon this will all be just another routine."

At seven p.m, I finished cleaning up in the kitchen, and hung the apron up where I had found it earlier today, when I heard the distant clicking of high heels, and a long shadow cast across the side of the wall. In a while, a figure accompanied it, and up came the woman of the house.

"Ah, Mr. Min, finishing up for the day, I suppose?" She asked, walking over to the kitchen counter. 

She looked tired, make up faded slightly, coat neatly hung over her arm which was folded over her flat stomach. Her shirt was slightly wrinkled too, and she looked like she could definitely use a drink.

"Can I get you anything Mrs. Park?" I inquired, feeling that she might appreciate the offer.

She smiled. A genuine, non business-like smile.

"Why thank you for caring, Mr.Min, but I am fine," She said, and slid into a high stool on the other side of the counter, pulling a black colored little rectangle out of the pocket of her black trousers. From it, she pulled out a new, shiny grey card, and inspected it closely, turning it over in her hand. 

 Without the professional air that surrounded her both times I had encountered her before, she seemed less scary. Almost motherly.

Perhaps she had a child.

Perhaps that child lived in another mansion quite similar to her own, but I couldn't say exactly, I could only assume that it was one of the many rich person possibilities.

She handed me the card, which I accepted, a quizzical look forming on my face.

"The gate opens when you hold it to the green panel right under the bell. You can come inside immediately, without waiting for the maid to fetch you," She said simply, leaning her elbows on the counter, and leaning her weight onto them.

"Okay." I responded with a single nod.

"You are dismissed then, Mr. Min, Good night," She said, leaning back onto the short back rest of the tall stool, and I bowed to her and made my way back down the stairs, carefully avoiding eye contact with the many maids who occupied the second and main floors.

I wondered if the third floor was a restricted area for them. Maybe no one was allowed to be there, except for me, and Mrs. Park. 

Maybe I had passed a secret test, by not peeking into room 23, and holding in my curiosity.

And on that day, I left the Gargoyle mansion with my head held high, returning a mocking gaze towards the figurines, who looked worn out and defeated in the dusk, promising a tenser match next time.

But that would be a different day.

For now, this small victory was enough.

I got on the last bus home.

a/n: So that's chapter two! A little shorter than the one before, but still a decent length, I think. I assure you, everything that happened in this chapter is relevant to what happens next in the story. I will try and make it better, and more exciting!! I hope you are enjoying the story :)

Also, just curious, what do you think the smoke is??