The Irish's Sanity

Chapter Twenty Seven

...

I stood at the top of the grand staircase, my silk gown feeling like a leaden shroud. The mansion, usually a place of opulence and comfort- well it was today, had transformed into a foreboding labyrinth of fear. The lights were dimmed an indication that people had been off to sleep, casting eerie shadows on the mahogany-paneled walls, I wasn't sure whether it was my imagination playing tricks on me or it was really there neither did I care at the moment I had bigger problems to worry about

Crystal chandeliers loomed overhead, their soft, ghostly glow illuminating the marble floors with a haunting allure. Deep down I hoped a ghost, ghoul or anything of the nature of supernatural would pop up and stab me to my death, anything would be better than facing that man. My head felt the absence of my bonnet that I had removed before leaving the bedroom, it was cold all of a sudden.

My trembling hand clutched the ornate banister, its polished wood sending shivers through my fingers. As terrified as I was I noticed the stark change in the design of the house as we had reached this side of the house. Mr. Worthington, our butler, appeared beside me, a stoic figure in his impeccable attire. His face, as inscrutable as the statues that lined the hall, betrayed only by a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes when he looked at me.

"Madam," he whispered, "if you'd follow me." A reminder of sort. I was escorted from my room at this hour by him with word from Lachlan commanding my presence.

Moments before Mr. Worthington had entered I had been a bit mad at the Viking man's absence, it had been a very slow but fast day with the events of yesterday replaying on my mind I couldn't help it neither could I help the smile that came with it, the things that had upset me forgiven and forgotten. Lachlan had left in the morning, leaving me with my thoughts. I had been annoyed by his absence but now I regretted that.

His study awaited at the base of the stairs, a room that had once symbolized wisdom and sanctuary. But tonight, it held a sinister secret - the underground basement, a place of unimaginable horrors. I could feel the air change as I descended the stairs. Goosebumps slowly covering my body.

I couldn't stop my mind from wondering, did I maybe do something wrong. Why would he call me out here if he wasn't going to kill me or hurt me somehow between the two the first option felt better than the latter. I contemplated on running back but knew better. Plus where would I run to, who would help me.

Every step down felt like a descent into madness. The fear of Lachlan's anger weighed heavy on my heart, as I kept on asking myself what did I do wrong, he wasn't even here today and kept to myself for most of the day. The thick scent of blood overtook my senses sending shivers down my spine, I wasn't even inside the room yet I could feel the hot tears gather at the back of my eyes.

My footsteps faltered, and I clutched my chest, overwhelmed by a suffocating dread. Mr. Worthington, a pillar of support, steadied me without touching me in any way. He was a man who was very careful and calculated his every move maybe that's why he was still alive and usually went where Lachlan was. He knew the man Lachlan was, even as he led me down here his robotic eyes had a shred of sympathy in them.

Finally, we reached the heavy oak door of Lachlan's study, and it was clear this was no ordinary study. It concealed the entrance to his dark basement: a place where he committed unspeakable acts, just like back home- he clearly had a taste.

With a sombre nod, Mr. Worthington gestured for me to enter. My heart raced as I crossed the threshold, closing my eyes for a second. I felt the presence of Mr. Worthington disappear. I had counted on him as if his presence would be any different, as if if the Viking man decided to rain down his wrath on me he would be able to help me. I bit my lip at the voice telling me to turn and run. Tempting but foolish.