The Haunt of Danzig Ruin

Threadbare

          Petrich did not even notice the missing knapsack until Nora had accidentally let slip the name Theo Xander. Hearing nothing but silence, Petrich casually looked toward the now empty hook next to where his umbrella hung.  His jaw involuntarily dropped in shock. 
           And then the near panic search was on, even as Master Scribe Theo Xander and his entourage paraded onto the Woxlichen campus with all the fanfare of a man-god.
         But they were not at total loss. Whoever took the knapsack was gracious enough to leave all else alone and even left a note of apology on Petrich's drafting table.  It read in small neat script worded in such a way that led Petrich to believe that the regional language was not the first language of the author. It read:

All my apologies for breaking inside and taking away tapestry doll baby.  Must use it to give the scribe what is deserved. I feel deep thanks to the Lady Crinoline for such privilege.  All my sincerity, Anton Kienczny

In event I do not survive: 53.8315/7.3853  3/2.

         "Well, Crinoline did not give us instruction to take out her revenge," Petrich sighed irritably "but she'll have her revenge, nonetheless. And I have no doubt this Anton Kienczny is our mystery boy."
         "Is he of the Dream Plain like us?" Nora asked.
         "Maybe," Petrich answered.  "But either way, we really must find him now and stop him."
         Nora looked at him levelly. "Must we?"
        "Yes," Petrich answered with conviction, "I will not allow us to have any part of the murder of a celestial scribe. Comeuppance, yes. If anyone in this world needs comeuppance, it's Xander, but I can't have the death of him on our hands in any shape, form or fashion."
          Nora merely looked at him in quiet rebellion, but then sighed and changed the subject.  "The numbers. What could they mean?"
          Petrich studied the numbers for a moment, but then shook his head. "I do not know." He folded the note and placed it into his trouser pocket. "All the more reason to ensure this boy survives this mission. He obviously knows their meaning.  And not only that, we must get that doll back or else we cannot complete our own mission!"
           Even if they had not been of the Dream Plain, Petrich and Nora would have been able to navigate through the throngs of cheering people who had gathered to welcome the Master Scribe with little to no attention.   As they neared the mansion where Xander was to reside while at Woxlichen, however, the security tightened to practically a pinhole. 
          With Dream Plain confidence, they slipped inside the mansion and began their investigation.     
           "Surely they'll house him on the top floor in a luxury suite." Petrich reasoned, climbing the security guard lined grand staircase with Nora.
           "Gracious! The amount of security for this man seems a bit heavy handed."  Nora commented.
           "For a celestial scribe, yes, it is. For a full fledge politician, no, it isn't necessarily." Petrich retorted. "All politicians, this one in particular, tend to have at least some sense of paranoia .  Xander has good reason to think he needs this level of security. I reckon he's been looking over his shoulder ever since the Danzig Incident."
            Along the way, they searched every corner, in hopes of finding Anton Keinczny crouching in the shadows with their stolen knapsack. They found no one except a number of servant girls going about their fetching and cleaning, and giggling in their young girl fashion.
           Running out of options, Petrich made one more suggestion. "There is a rooftop garden. Perhaps he is hiding in it."
            "Worth a look," Nora agreed.
             From The Commons, one could just spy a bit of the vegetation high along the mansion's flat rooftop. Only visiting dignitaries and money donating aristocrats had privilege to enjoy it, but now Petrich and Nora stood in its midst.
              The garden was a true marvel complete with species of gorgeous plants that were not native to the region but kept alive and well with imported soil and nutrients. It was a paradise created for no other reason than to please those who believed they deserved nothing less.
            "This place just screams Dietfried Baugainvillea, does it not?" said Petrich.
              Nora laughed, but then her laughter faded. "How I miss him, along with everyone else." she confessed sadly.
              Petrich bowed his head. "Yes, as do I, Darling."
             They strolled the garden, almost forgetting about their search for the boy, but find him they did. He saw them first and stood from where he hid within full bloom azalea shrubs. The knapsack was slung casually over his shoulder.
            When they were close enough the boy by name of Anton Keinczny knelt on one knee and lowered his head.
            "Master Scribe Hollenburg, Ellenora Baudelaire-Hodgins, I have expected you to find me." he said.
            Seeing the knapsack still in the boy's possession, Petrich relaxed a bit, and bowed himself.  "Anton Keinczny," he acknowledged. "Tell us, are you in a Dream Plain?"
              Anton shook his head. "No, but I knew how to find you. Lady Crinoline guided me."
              Petrich quickly looked about. "Best step back into your azalea hiding spot, then, if just anyone can see you."
                 Anton agreed and disappeared among the pink and white flowered shrubbery. Petrich and Nora followed, having to stoop low, looking not unlike three scurrying rabbits.
               They reached a clearing only big enough for them to sit on the ground. Here they felt Anton hidden enough to actually talk, though, not much above a whisper.
               "I, again, apologize for picking door lock and taking doll baby." Anton lamented.
                "Nevermind that," Petrich interrupted, not unkindly but to the point. "You are speaking Kush. Are you from there?"
                 Anton nodded. "Yes, I was gardener for the Danzig family ever since I was just small."
                 "So, you were there when. . .everything happened."
                "Yes," Anton answered, "I found a secret door from Lady Crinoline's room to the garden. Helped her and the servants finally escape, but," Anton shook his head mournfully, "It was all for not.  Lady Crinoline was caught." Anton squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth to keep his emotions at bay, "And Lady Rosemary. . .my beautiful Lady Rosemary.  She so loved the roses I tended, and I. . .and I loved her just secretly." He covered his eyes with his hands and took in a few deep breaths before he could continue. Petrich and Nora waited patiently, understanding the boy's pain.
               "Crinoline came to me after in my dreams. Her voice I heard in my head. Clear her voice was to me.  Said for me to journey to Woxlichen, and stay and wait and watch for you. She gave me the sight to see you."
               "That day of the announcement," said Petrich, "Was that the first time you saw us? Up in the window?"
               "No, saw you about a week before, on campus. Saw you from up here. I was given a job to tend this garden."
              "Ah, I see," Petrich nodded, "So, once you found us, you were able to find our residence."
              "Yes, but did only come inside the once to take the doll baby to. . ."
               "To assassinate a celestial scribe for revenge." Petrich finished for him rather sternly. "This was not a part of our agreement!"
             Anton raised his hands in defense. "Lady Crinoline, she knew! She knew you would refuse to take the life of one of your own." He then slowly lowered his hands, his expression hard as flint, "But she knew I would not! I have seen the road he has followed over all these years since the end of the Danzig family! Further and further into corruption and ruin. Just listen!! Did you hear those down below shouting such praises as if he were worthy of worship! But we, you and I, we know the truth that Theo Xander is a filthy Defier! And the cursed threads are so very hungry for his blood!!"
            By now, Anton had raised his voice to almost shouting, but then fell silent as Petrich and Nora stared at the knapsack that lay completely still next to Anton. Petrich immediately snatched up the sack and forced it open and found it empty. 
             Petrich dropped it as if it burned his hands, then took hold of Anton's jacket lapels. "WHERE IS THAT DOLL??" he growled.
           Anton looked at him.  "Waiting for him to arrive to his rooms." Anton replied, smiling.
           "Tell me which room is his!" Petrich demanded, giving him a sharp shake.
            ". . . No." answered Anton, calmly and decidedly.
             Petrich let him go, but not without an angry shove,  as he snatched up the empty knapsack and quickly left the clearing with Nora following close behind.
             They ran down the steps from the garden two at a time and then along the top floor halls.  They heard a blood curled scream of what sounded like one of the servant girls. It was followed by great shouts of men and the  pounding of a great many running feet. 
             Petrich and Nora rounded a corner and ran upon a crowd of security guards bursting through the heavy double doors into one of the luxury suites.   They weaved themselves through the growing crowd of security personnel and was just nearly to the doors when one of the security guards stumbled back out of the suite, turned about, doubled over and made sick on the hall floor. 
             Petrich and Nora came to a screeching halt, bracing for what they were about to see entering into the  forced doors.  What they saw left them completely stunned.
              The doll was indeed in the room, sitting on one of the overstuffed luxury chairs. No fewer than a hundred threads had extended from around the doll and into the next room, they were taunt and moving as if being fed into a an industrial sized sewing machine.
             From the room came exhausted cries of torture. Petrich was first to step inside followed by Nora.  Upon the floor was the seizing body of Theo Xander, his whole naked body covered in blood as the many threads worked at rapid speed like ravenous starving worms burrowing just beneath the skin and threading through. This was happening from his feet all the way up to his face.  But no thread was wrapped about his neck.
           It was the most grotesque scene either of them had ever witnessed, and watching left them frozen in place and completely speechless. Even as they stood watching, the threads had apparently completed the job and had began to slither back toward the doll leaving thin trails of blood in their wake. Left on the floor lay Theo Xander, not dead but panting shakily, and most likely in shock.  The blood from the thousands of puncture wounds was no longer free flowing but drying in thick, sticky dark streaks all over his body.
             Within seconds a great many guards as well as members of Xander's entourage gathered around him providing immediate medical attention. This left Petrich and Nora a chance to snatch up the doll, now bloody from the threads, and slip it into the knapsack.  They did not stay to watch the aftermath of the attack.
              Only when they were safely out on the vast lawn of the mansion did they stop running. 
             "What?? What was happening to him?" Nora gasped.
              Petrich could do nothing but shake his head. "What ever it did, it left him alive, but surely scarred him very badly. . . . It seemed to be making a stitch pattern." He pondered this as he gently took Nora into his arms, watching horse drawn carriages galloping along the course way toward the mansion's entry. Two carriages carried members of the city's police.  The last carriage bore the emblem of an hospital ambulance and it rang a loud bell in its wake. 
             Nora pulled away from Petrich. "But what of Anton?? " she asked.
             "Oh! Yes! Well. . .we best find him." sighed Petrich,  not caring for the idea of searching for the boy a second time.
               But search they did, calling for him in the rooftop garden.  Anton finally answered them but he was no longer hiding but was seated doubled  over and in great pain on a marble bench. Blood drenched his side.
              "What's happened to you??" Nora cried, running over to him. "
              "I fought my way through security to finish what the doll did not." Anton panted, angrily, "Crinoline betrayed me! She promised! She promised to deliver death!!"
               "She promised you to deliver revenge," Nora reminded him, "Revenge, I suppose in this case did not mean death."  She immediately began to tend to Anton's stab wound in his left side.
                "I'm beginning to think her revenge was not a physical death but more of a death through character assassination." Petrich replied lending assistance to stop the wound's bleeding, "The threads were moving in such a way that made me wonder if they weren't actually spelling out words.  Perhaps spelling out his crime directly onto his body."
             Nora paused. "Like a sort of tattooing?"
             "Yes,"  Petrich confirmed. "Each puncture seemed so deliberate and precise."
              Just then Anton gasped in a new wave of pain and he slipped out of their grasp and toppled to the ground.
                "Rosemary . . .my beautiful Rosemary. . . I am sorry. . .my love. . .the scribe still lives. . ." Anton began to cry weakly. The wound started to bleed even more profusely.
              "No!! Stay with us, Anton!! Stay awake!" Nora pleaded, still trying to stop the bleeding but knew it was a losing battle.
               Then he drew in a sharp breath and then Anton stopped breathing completely.
               "NO!! ANTON!!" Nora shook him until Petrich convinced her to stop.
                She looked at him, and Petrich merely shook his head.  She sat down heavily and simply stared at nothing.
              "You know. . ." Nora said wearily after a long exhausted moment, "He never did tell us what those numbers meant."