Frankenstein's Bastard Child

Volume 10

Finally after hours of searching we finally found something for Muvere to put on. It was nothing too fancy really, just a ripped up old Nirvana shirt and ripped jeans. (It struck me as a bit odd that this type of clothing was here but I guess it's not that important) After a bit more site seeing I told Muvere to go to the kitchen to see what our meal plans would look like for a while. I felt bad about lying to them but I needed to see something for myself. Alone. On the second floor of the left wing was a hall lined with golden laurel wallpaper. The hallway itself seemed to be almost anxious as if it were desperately trying to get its visitors to turn back. But I wouldn't, I trekked on to the last room on the right side. It was the only one made of birch wood. My mother always liked birch wood. My hand shook as I reached for the handle, dread stinging my eyes like sea salt. My mind began to flood with thoughts teetering  between logic and denial.

"She surely made it out." I said to myself. "She wouldn't have stayed, my mother wasn't stupid!?" My hand tightened as I flung the door open with a satisfying whoosh. The scene wasn't gruesome, or foreboding, and there wasn't any sign of a struggle. Just a plain empty room like the kind you would find at a hotel. All of her books were gone and the same with her jewelry and other trinkets too. It was almost as if she never existed in the first place and maybe, maybe it was better that way. I turned to leave the room but stopped at the sight of a single fleck of chipped paint as if something were dragged across it. I drew my finger across the scratch till it landed on the nearest bookshelf. It was a bit of a cliche but it was so stupid it had to be true. I began to tip the bookcase till it fell with a large thud revealing a steel vault like door. Part of me wanted to walk away and forget this ever happened, but I couldn't. I turned the dial and the handle opened with a pop and a creak. This was wrong, I shouldn't be here. As I made my way down the metal steps I couldn't help but feel like something was watching me and did like the fact that I was breathing. After about twenty more steps the wayy was illuminated by pot lights. Creepy pot lights. The stench of well worn chemicals and rusted metal filled the air sending a chill down my spine, everything in my body was telling me to run and yet I trekked forward not knowing what I might face.