I had read a story on the internet about an audacious student prank that some canny students had initiated at a college in America. These students had broken into their student dining hall and overnight had managed to glue all of the tables and chairs to the ceiling, with extra strong adhesive. They had literally turned the room upside down. When the teachers found them in the morning the students had also found a way of tying themselves to the upturned furniture and were having a topsy-turvy tea party on the ceiling.
I had laughed out loud when I read this, I had been inspired by the story of how they had executed such an elaborate hoax, and before I had even carried out my simultaneous stunts with painting and statue I had been already planning to try to do something similar here at Bainswick. I had thought about roping-in some of Moley and Greenie's eco-activist friends to help me because I knew that they had access to the strong glue and other materials I would need.
I was still standing in the art studio, but now I only had the two twins for company. Dunsey and Old Bulwark had left, stomping away to go and place the painting back into storage. and the police officers had gone outside to have another look around the campus. Perhaps they thought the statue of might miraculously reappear of its own accord. I did not think that was very likely. I could see them right there, PC Clarke and PC Warren as I looked out of the window, and I could tell that they were not going to stray too far away from me. I knew they were going to follow me around all that day in the hope that I would lead them to the prized statue.
I was desperate to get hold of Will, to get some clarity on that situation. I had resisted texting him so far partly because I wasn't completely sure where he or the statue had ended up? He and I had both been pretty drunk last night, perhaps he, not as unsophisticatedly drunk as I had been, but we were both well-oiled as they say. Suddenly a memory flashed into my head of me jumping into the water fountain. And suddenly large pieces of the puzzle started to fit into place. "Eureka" I said out loud making a cheesy and frankly ridiculous joke. A Joke which must have startled Moley and Greenie because they both stopped what they were doing and turned and stared at me like I had gone crazy.
"Ha, I remember now," I said glaring at the two of these mischievous co-conspirators, but they merely ignored me and went back to painting. I quickly composed a text and sent it to Will. I was glad he was lying low, and I was glad he had not been in our room earlier when I had taken the police to our dormitory, but that meant I had no clue where he was, and if he had made it back safely after his jaunt with the statue. I desperately needed to check-in with him.
"Have you spoken to Will today?" I had asked the twins earlier and both had shaken their heads, "No," in perfect unison. .
The other reason that I had been so reluctant to call Will before was that I had not wanted to involve him in whatever police investigation that was about to engulf us, but I realised he was involved. Even more than I was actually. The idea for removing that hideous, lecherous old eye-sore Lord Bainswick, was his more his idea than mine. I remembered that although I had been the one to jump into the fountain and secure the ropes and chains provided by Greenie and Moley around the offending object. I had helped Will, Greenie, Moley to pulled the rotten thing down, but that that is where my participation had ended.
The only parts of the plan I was certain of were the parts that I had carefully plotted. The order of that nights events now seemed to be unlocking itself in my previously confused mind. As my head cleared, I remembered that the nights' itinerary had been very deliberately planned out to the finest detail by me, and although I had obviously made mistakes, (taking the real painting was not part of the plan.) The night was supposed to follow a very specific schedule and that order went like this.
YOU ARE READING
The Nocturne
ParanormalWhat is the cause of the eerie and ethereal music that Edgar Rossini hears at night. And why is he the only one who can hear it? Is the strange phenomenon real, paranormal, or just a figment of his imagination? After being expelled from college...