One Stupid Thing

4:2:117

As JJ and I make our way down the hall, I can't help but notice how ancient everything inside is. It's no wonder that a place like Goat Island is surrounded in mystery and stories of curses. The wallpaper is peeling off of every wall and a thick layer of dust covers every surface. It's almost impressive how dirty it is in here. A large painting of a soldier hangs in the hall just past a doorway. 

"Just, uh..." JJ halts unsure of where this Groff person expects us to go. 

"Just right in the next room," Groff calls back up to him. 

"Okay." Continuing to cling to JJ's arm for dear life, we continue forwards, studying everything we pass on the way. 

"This place smells like dead bodies." John B's nose wrinkles, his hands stuffed awkwardly into his shorts pockets. 

Just as Groff said, JJ and I walk through a second doorway on the left and enter another room. It only has one window supplying a few rays of cold light and a dim lamp on a table in the corner. The room consists of a few bookshelves, a desk with a bunch of random junk scattered all over it, and a small table with a chair. Almost like some sort of study. 

"I'll, uh... I'll let Wes know you're here." Groff saunters over to a pair of double dutch doors and opens them into the next room. "Wes, they've come," he announces. 

"Oh, good. Good. Bring them in," Wes Genrette's gravely voice echos. Cleo bravely leads the way, stepping down a short staircase into the other room and stopping briefly to touch a thick cobweb dangling from a lampshade. Her nose wrinkles in disgust. "Come in. Please, please, warm yourselves by the fire. Good to see you." 

This room is much, much larger than the last. The main centerpiece is a gorgeous wood paneled fireplace and decorated above the mantel is a portrait of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Wes stands off to the side, allowing us to make our way over to the couches at the center of the room. 

"I apologize for dragging you all out here, but I... I don't think I could speak about this in public." That's not ominous whatsoever. JJ helps me down on the couch beside Pope, giving up his seat and choosing instead to stand. "I know I mentioned Blackbeard," Wes gestures to a painting of the pirate, "but I assure you all, my interest is not for treasure. My ancestor, Francis Genrette..." he turns his attention to a painting of him on the opposite wall, "...was the British officer who caught and killed the notorious pirate." 

Pope shifts beside me, the fact piquing his interest. "Wait. Your... your direct ancestor?" 

"Mm-hmm. Yes, unfortunately. After he beheaded Blackbeard, he killed the pirate's wife, Elizabeth. And since then, for 300 years, generations of Generates have been haunted by Elizabeth's ghost and have died violent deaths including my daughter, Larissa, Chandler's wife." The beautiful woman in the painting. "My daughter saw Elizabeth a week before she died. Now... I've had a visitation. So I know I don't have much time." 

I watch as John B struggles to find the words to say to this man who has endured so much trauma and loss. "Right, uh, so we're really sorry that that happened to you, but what do you want from us?" 

"Of course, you're right. Let's get down to business. Chandler." Mr. Genrette points to his son-in-law, giving him the floor. 

"We believe that we've found a way to break the curse on this family," Groff explains. "Right before she was murdered, Elizabeth begged Francis to retrieve from her husband's ship a keepsake that he'd given her. Her most prized possession. An amulet." Groff points to yet another painting-- Jesus Christ how many pictures of old dead people do these guys have in this house-- of Elizabeth Teach, a giant pendant hanging around her neck. "He denied the request and then murdered her."