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MORBID BITE
Chapter Three: The Return Home
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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Nicholas rested his hand on the hard-wooden bedroom door, his eyes tightly shut, and his lips pursed in a thin line. The headache that banged against his skull made it almost impossible to think straight. For almost a week he had not been able to sleep; the haunting image of Belle's dead father always flashed behind his eyes when they began to feel heavy. His whole body was tense as he moved his white knuckled fist down to the door handle. It was not often Nicholas came to this end of the house, he had made it his mission to segregate this wing from his living area. The dust that settled around the walls and under the doors was thick, even with Mrs Coté keeping it maintained. The smell was off, old books was too pleasant to describe it, the smell was stale and unloving. The cold metal stung his sweaty palm as he turned the handle and entered the room.
Stillness engulfed the space in front of him, every piece of furniture was covered in stained white, dust sheets. The ghost figures send shivers down Nicholas' spine. The daylight from the shuttered window only just lit up a splinter of the room, giving it an almost blue tint and where the sunlight shone through, particles of dust swirled around in miniature thunderstorms.
The smell became stronger in this room, not even Mrs Coté dared step foot among the ghostly figures. Nicholas was drawn to the sheet which was draped across the furthest wall. He reached out his arm, his arm shacking as he wandered over to it. He curled his thumb under his fingers and brushed the fabric with his knuckles, so lightly that the sheet was not disturbed. Reaching out his fingers he went to move the drapery but as his skin connected a shock made him recoil, terrified of what lay beneath. He knew that once he looked upon what lay behind the sheet there was no going back. His long fingers took a hold of the rough fabric and he pulled, sending a cloud of dust up into the air. He turned away to cover his face with his hands, but as the cloud settled his eyes linked with the painting. A beautiful woman stared down at him, her luscious brown hair was painted glossy as it fell over her delectate shoulders. Next to her stood a man, his stern expression was interrupted by smile lines that were scattered across his wrinkled face. On the woman's lap sat a young boy, his large grey eyes visibly wet on the canvas. Just beside the woman stood an older boy his hands tightly holding the collar of his jacket, his stance identical to his father's.
Nicholas's couldn't remove his stare, his family as he they had once been, preserved for ever.
The heavy curtain rested on the little boy's back, his breath streaming up the cold glass of the window as he watched his brother shouting his name. Nicholas had hidden himself in the dining room, knowing his brother would not dare enter after their father had forbidden the boys to play in there: they had smashed some of the best china and almost given Mrs Coté a heart attack.
Nicholas could just see his mother strolling round the grounds in her maternity dress, holding the umbrella to shield her pale skin from the unforgiving sun, a smile spread across her face as she saw Raúl running behind the oak tree searching for Nicholas.
The young boy sighed and lightly tapped the window to see if his brother would notice but it was a feeble effort and his brother ran out towards the lake. He knew it would be awhile before anyone found him. He sat down on the window seat, bringing up his short chubby legs. He had just had his sixth birthday and father had brought him a wooden solider. He reached his hand into his ripped pocket and took out his treasured toy, running his hand over its rough hair and flicking the wooden sword. He smiled, dimples appearing in his rosy checks as he began to play, blocking out the world around him.
After a few hours Nicholas began to get bored, putting down his toy soldier he stood up and looked out the window. The sun was beginning to vanish into the horizon and he could not see his brother anywhere. Knocking his hand on the window he tried to get someone's attention.
Suddenly the curtain whisked open and a short woman with a flushed face stood glaring at the little boy.
"Monsieur Nicholas," she exclaimed, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him out from the window seat. He struggled in her grip but could not get lose.
"Your father won't be happy you were in the dining room. He specifically told you not to go in there." She slapped him lightly on the head and let go of his shirt, once they were outside the room.
"You won't tell him, will you mamie Coté." His big grey eyes pleaded up at her. She smiled and tapped him on the head. He knew she would not tell him.
"Go find your brother, he's been looking for you for hours." He grinned and ran off, his feet drumming on the carpeted floor.
A sad smile spread across the maid's face as she thought of what her master had asked her to do. She walked back to the stairs and picked up Nicholas's trunk before heading up to his bedroom.
Nicholas ran along the long corridor, the paintings of his ancestors looking down on him in disapproval. He could not remove the cheeky smile from his face as he ran out into the gardens.
"Raúl!" he shouted cupping his hands around his mouth. "Raúl!" he shouted again impatiently.
His shoulders slumped as he waited for his brother's reply. Then a boy jumped onto Nicholas back screaming and laughing.
"I found you, I found you," he yelled pointing at him.
"That's not fair!" Nicholas moaned, crossing his arms over his puffed-up chest.
"It is perfectly fair, the aim was for you to hide and if I found you before dinner time, I would win." Raúl had a smug smile on his face which grew as his brother's frustration continued to rise.
"But..." his bottom lip began to tremble, and tears began to fill his eyes.
Raúl stuck his tough out at his little brother but he quickly stopped and stood up straight as his father strolled out of the house.
"Father?" Raúl cautiously acquired as he advanced on his two sons.
"Raúl, go back inside."
The older of the two boys bowed and scampered back inside sneaking a quick glance back at his father and little brother.
"Good luck," he whispered towards his young sibling and then he left, not knowing then it would be the last time he would see Nicholas.
Nicholas's stared at his father's feet, his red eyes glistening with tears.
"I'm sorry, father, I didn't mean to go in there, it was just the best hiding place of hiding places." He stuttered as he tried to find a reason to tell his father.
"What..." he shook his head completely unsure what his son was blabbering about. "Listen, Nicholas."
"Henri what is going on?" Nicholas's mother asked as she walked out of the house to join her husband, her hand rested on her baby bump. He sighed and turned to his wife.
"Nicholas is old enough to be going to boarding school, he is the age my younger brother was when he left so it is time for Nicholas to go too." He could not look at his wife.
"Henri how could you do this without asking me? He is my son as well." She took a step closer her eyes wide with shock and terror about losing her son.
"Go back inside, Giselle." He raised his voice a stern expression over taking his once soft eyes.
"Henri!" She shouted at him but before she could continue he took a hold of her delicate wrist.
"I am your husband, therefore you do as I say." He grabbed tighter, but she struggled in his grasp.
"Let go, you're hurting me." She whimpered, her eyes concentrated on his hand. He stepped closer still holding tightly to her thin wrist.
"You do as I say, woman." He roughly pushed away her arm and turned around. But not before she slapped him around the face and stormed past him, tears burning behind her eyes, ignoring his angry glare as she approached her son.
Nicholas's legs trembled as his tear-filled eyes gazed at his mother. He ran towards her and wrapped his short arms tight around the base of her skirt. Her pale face was taut with hurt and she carefully kneeled down, her hand stroking his cheek. She brought her lips to his forehead where she kissed him lightly. Nicholas wrapped his arms around her neck and she buried her face in his sweet brown curly hair.
Nicholas ran his hands through his hair. That had been the last time he had seen his mother. She had died in childbirth a few months later. His brother and father had shortly followed her, the beast's first victims. Nicholas sighed and began to remove the dust sheets from around the room. He knew he had no obligation to do this, but he did not want the servants to touch his mother's belongings.
Before he could continue, a distant pounding of horses' hooves entered his ears and he turned to look over at the partially closed window. He wasn't expecting anyone. He frowned and looked down at his shabby appearance. Whoever it was would not be pleased to see him like this.
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Belle sat in the chair by the bed, her night dress draped around her thin body. She had been unable to sleep once Nicolas had left, and she had spent the time unwrapping her bandages. The damage was not as bad as Belle had feared, the cuts on her face not too deep and the pain from her feet more down to internal problems rather than external wounds. Her brown hair looked dull as it lay over her right shoulder, the hair that covered her forehead concealed the small red lines that healed. She had started to plait the bottom of her long hair in her inability to sleep, but she was beginning to tire of her four walls.
Carefully, she placed pressure on her feet, they stung as she made her way to the bedroom door, but not as much as her muscles ached in her legs. How long had she been lying on that bed? From the way her body and mind felt it could have been months. Out in the corridor she could feel a slight breeze traveling through the house and out of the corner of her eye she noticed Nicholas dashing back towards his room. Using her body weight, she used her shoulder to lean on the wall as each step felt like needles in her soles.
The sound of voices drifted from the hallway, giving Belle a sense of curiosity that made her turn towards the main staircase. Her steps were slow, but she made it to the top of the stairs in time to see two men bringing through trunks and boxes full of someone's belongings. The two workmen stared up at Belle with blank expressions as they stained with the weight of the luggage.
"What do you think you're doing?" a woman's voice shouted from outside the door. "That is very fragile property you imbecile." The beautiful woman strolled through the front door, her huge hat more like a piece of art than a piece of clothing. Her delicate blue eyes rolled over the hallway and her square jaw was clenched tightly. Her eyes darted around the room and with an animalistic quickness they found and stopped on Belle.
"Bonjour?" her tone accusing as she stared up at Belle with cold eyes. "May I ask what you are doing in my house, Mademoiselle?" she advanced towards Belle her gaze trying stare her down.
"I am a guest of Nicholas. He has invited me here and at the moment I live here, I am sorry, but I do not think we have been introduced."
A sly smile spread across the stranger's face.
"Well I am Sylvia and may I ask what sort or relationship you have with the master of this house?" She seemed to look down on Belle as she began to imagine why Nicholas had her staying here.
"I assure you I am simply a..." Belle wreaked her brain for the right word, "ward being cared for by a very kind gentleman." She gave Sylvia a side wards smile and did not turn her gaze away from the woman's harsh glare.
Before they could continue with their strange fight for dominance, which had surprised Belle with her own confidence. She heard footsteps coming up behind her. Nicholas stood in a slick pair of brown trousers and his hair slightly damp, but his face dropped as he noticed the guest standing in his doorway.
"Hello brother." Sylvia smirked as she removed her designer white gloves.
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Hi people. Hope this chapter wasn't a disappointment, I had many rewrites of Chapter three as I couldn't seem to get it quite as I wanted it. Anyway, I have given you a bit of Nicholas's past that is important to the plot *wink **wink*.
I am not sure how my writing is as I have had a death in the family and my creativity has been slightly dampened so I do hope you like it. Vote comment and most of all enjoy!
Dedicated to my aunt <3
Bonjour: Hallo