Before the Horns - A Bob Velseb Story

Chapter 12

Immediately, Charlie was presented with a massive front foyer. Two staircases neatly framed a long balcony that lead to the second floor. The room was dusty and old, many features of the grand entrance way connected with years worth of cobwebs. There was decades old furniture everywhere, much of which was covered in sheets or broken. It was cold and dark, lit dimly by a few candelabras strewn disproportionately around the space. It would have been really neat if it weren't for the subtle ambient music filling the room via some hidden speaker somewhere.

There was a creak down one of the hallways running perpendicular to the entry, as a man revealed himself. "Ah, velcome, velcome, come in my guests, my friends!" he greeted, with open arms. "You couldn't have arrived at a better time! Now vhy don't I show you all around my pleasant home?" he asked, leading the group down another hallway, and into a bedroom. He made up a lot of really cheesy stuff, implying he was a vampire. However when asked, he simply just insisted he was merely a count.

Charlie found it all really corny but rolled with it either way. At some point the count locked the group in a room and from behind the door let out a loud screech before announcing "Tonight we feast!"

With that, the door to the antique wardrobe swung open, and out stepped a masked killer who was brandishing a hatchet. The few teen boys in the group were clinging to each other, screaming, and most seemed frightened by the appearance. Charlie rolled her eyes at the display and began to follow the group out the exit, but since she was walking so slow, the killer snatched her by the arm.

Charlie heard a boy cry out, "They got the red head!" as she was dragged into the wardrobe, and out into the hall. The masked man threw her into a new room where she was all alone. She heard the door click locked behind her, and assessed the situation. She was separated from the tour group, and without any other visitors.

Looking around the room, Charlie noted she was in a kitchen. The floors were slick and cold, the tile covered in a film of some warm liquid. She really hoped it wasn't urine. It was pretty dark, but Charlie could make out the shape of two people in front of her. One was laid out across a table, dripping with some sort of fluid. The second was a relatively large man standing over him, clutching a cleaver. The large man was smeared with red; it was all over his face and clothes. Blood ran off his hands as he carved the poor victim like it was nothing. A haunting tune pierced the air, making the hair on her neck stand on end. The chef was whistling. His face was concealed by shadow in the dimly lit, somewhat foggy kitchen.

The tune cut off sharply as the chef set down his massive knife. "Well hello there! I see we got ourselves a new meal!" he exclaimed, eerily calm. He leaned over the table across the body he was carving. "Looks like she's still livin' too. No matter, they taste better fresh. You just wait there doll, and I'll finish my business with this lovely specimen. It's your turn next."

Charlie sat on the floor quietly, a little unsettled. She didn't like the way the situation freaked her out, but the chef's cool tone and mannerisms were just a little more than she normally experienced. It felt too real. "I'm not afraid of you," she cautioned.

"Not afraid? My dear, why would you be? I'd be honored if I were in your place, fit to be a meal for royalty. Then again, tasting the fear is the best part of the meal. Now I think about it, this corpse will taste sour anyway. He was old and over confident. Shame to be a waste from my knife, but it'll be worth my time with you as his replacement!" The chef shoved the man's remains off the table, snatched up a cleaver, and came around to Charlie's side of the kitchen, all too calmly. "Did you know the human skin weighs nearly 8 pounds?" he asked, running the blade over the wood tabletop. 

Now that he was in the light, Charlie could see that the chef's blood smeared face belonged to none other than Bob, her manager. Seeing him would normally have comforted her, but in this case made the experience all the more frightening. Charlie's heart rate had picked up without her knowing, and she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. She stood in a panic, trying to back away, but Bob snatched her by the forearm. He had this insane smile spread across his face. She was terrified. 

Charlie tried pulling away frantically, but Bob just squeezed her wrist tighter. "You're goin' nowhere little miss." he told her coolly. She attempted pulling away again, reaching for something, anything to fight back with, searching frantically for an exit. "I SAID YOU AIN"T GONNA ESCAPE ME!" Bob screamed, pulling her closer and raising the cleaver.

Charlie was frozen. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. She couldn't scream. She couldn't get away. She was more afraid in this moment than she'd ever been in any other real threatening situation she'd ever experienced. If it weren't for the corpse sitting up and screaming at the chef, she would have never made it out. The moment her wrist was free, Charlie fled the kitchen, tearing out of the room and slamming the door as the chef occupied himself with the butchered corpse. Charlie ignored the rest of the mansion and got to the exit as fast as possible.

She understood now. The others wanted Bob for a reason, and she'd just experienced it. It was no wonder Carter had suggested she came to see the mansion for educational purposes. She'd only gone because Bob had asked her to. She understood now. She knew why Bob was so valuable to the others. She witnessed it for herself. She knew more than ever she really needed to get Bob, and get him soon. It was imperative and had climbed to the top of her to do list faster than anything else had ever before. She understood now.

Charlie understood.