The Eidolon of Godwyn

Chapter Nine

It was perhaps the first time he'd seen the tyrant cry. Seen him without that scolding look look in his eyes. Devoid of the normal oppressive gaze that paralyzed him, in a feeling of insignificance. This is the one time he had ever seen Oscar Godwyn sad.

Oscar patted the young Ossie's head after relinquishing him from a hug. It was obvious he wasn't going to yell at him, he wasn't going to say anything. Instead he just did something else not of his nature. He turned the television on and watched it with his son. They spent the rest of the night that way. Not one word was spoken, and neither glanced in the others direction. They just watched, the cartoon characters running back and forth on screen, attempting to out run ghosts and monsters with their big brown dog. On occasion the lankier of the teens would make a joke, and the phony laughter of an audience would resonate from the box that grasped their attention. It may have been one of the happier moments in the young boy's life. Ossie turned his head once to the window outside, and he swore he saw someone looking back. Saw her looking back.

Ossie opened his eyes. It was the same dream he had been having for nights now since entering the mansion. It wasn't enough to just live a nightmare he had to experience them as he slept as well. These recursions had started to take their toll on him. A lonely mountain quickly eroding to the waves of memory that carved him.

Ossie raised a clammy hand to his head warm beads of water greeted the back of his appendage. A low growl echoed through the empty guest room, his stomach begging him for work, for something to do, something to digest. Asking when the strike would be over. He couldn't help it though. He had no appetite. He felt as though he had just as much chance of fixing the kitchen, as he had of the flash backs stopping.

The sheets fell to the floor as he stood up. If he couldn't sleep he might as well walk. The room though empty was unnerving. This whole house was. His feeling of safety jeopardized at every turn. Then there was that feeling he was being watched.

Ossie exited out into the corridor and froze. The sound of footsteps still trotting in the halls. It wasn't the butler he had an uneven shuffle when he walked, and that was if he felt like making noise. Most of the time Kinsley appeared and disappeared without warning. Evelyn didn't stray this deep into the house, not to mention, she was always accompanied by a clacking of her hollow bones. Usually logic dictated pursuing foreign and ominous noises, but curiosity reigned supreme; as he pushed on wards in search of the steps. The vestige of feet picked up, the gait growing quicker. Ossie gave chase. It was mildly difficult in the dark, but he had become adjusted to the black abyss, that the mansions lighting had to offer.

How long had he been living there? He couldn't say any more. Sometimes it felt like a mere week sometimes longer, and though he was far from familiar with the whole house, the floor that contained him had become no stranger. Ossie turned again whipping down the hall, the sound of footsteps always just ahead of him. Each night he had the dream where he was watched, and almost as frequently he awoke to chase footsteps, this phantom taunted him, it was always watching but never seen. Ossie began to wonder was it really lurking the corners of that forsaken mansion, or did it exist solely in the corners of his mind.

Ossie ran, there was a three way fork around the next right turn. The left was a long hallway. The foots never took that path. If he pursued it down that corridor he'd surely catch a glimpse before it turned around the corner. To continue straight would lead it down a long spiraling staircase. With a red rug that was torn and needed to be replaced he noted the right was a short passage branching out into more options. This was where he always lost his victim.

He was feeling good this time though. After picking the lock of a nearby room one day he was sure he could out maneuver the fleeing feet. Ossie took the corner, an arm jetting out to catch himself. He pushed against the wall gaining a small boost, and stabilizing his balance. There was a faint crack sound as the board in the wall gave way, another thing he'd have to fix later, but he had greater concerns.

The noise reverberated in his ears, off the lonely walls. The feet headed right.

"Gotcha" Ossie mumbled. He dipped right the door to the room nearly falling off its hinges as he entered. He took quartet of steps, the sound fierce as he generated the power necessary to leap the hole in the floor. The door knob grew closer as he closed in on the portal that would offer him the gaze he craved. He had it. He was going to cut the culprit off. This game of stalk and be stalked was coming to an end. A twisted game of hide and seek. The door clicked as he turned the orb, but it was un yielding. Why wouldn't it open.

"Shit!" Ossie thrust out a foot. The barrier denying him access to what he sought giving way with a thud. All logic and reason went out the door. After all you couldn't catch a ghost with sanity, right?

There was a scuffle, the sound startling his prey as it turned around. It didn't matter. After he made this left he would see it. The only option being the long hallway or the stair case. He made the left and froze. He wasn't sure what to expect but it wasn't this.

It appeared to be a small girl not much else could be deciphered, it was still dark and she moved quickly wasting no time in her escape. The girl leapt throwing all of her momentum at the stair railing. The gown it wore trailed ominously behind as she twisted down the stairs. He couldn't help; but note the transparency of the garb that veiled the whole of this being. He couldn't say for himself if she wasn't completely tangible herself. She was so pale; she glowed slightly.

Ossie made his way to the railing, looking down. The girl appeared to float or fly as she quickly spiraled her way down the flight of stairs. Her legs not even touching the steps. It was mesmerizing. The white shroud spinning down into the dark abyss. It could only be the Eidolon of Godwyn. The murderous spirit of a young girl drowned in the woods. Was this house no longer safe? Was it ever safe? He had begun to wonder if the horror story Jack told him was true. It was quite possible it was the reason, the rival firm could never sell the condemned mansion. Not only was this important to his mission; but all the ghosts, specters, the creatures... Was he imagining them or were they real. He had to know and now he did.

There was no denying it. He believed. It was all he could do as he  watched her descend, and with her, he descended in to madness.

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Hey everyone its me the author! Who? i know it been a long time, but please don't forget to comment, criticize, vote if that's your thing, otherwise just tell me your thoughts. any feedback will help me write better, and ever so slightly increase my chances of sticking it to my boss to get more write time. until next time...