Crimson Peak [COMPLETE]

Chapter Nine

Thomas and I didn't talk about what had happened with him and his sister in the house too much once we started with the wash. Instead, he talked about all the places he'd seen and the different cultures he had experienced. Eventually he started talking about the clay underneath the house and how he had once planned on mining it. He explained to me how the decrepit machine in front of the house was supposed to work and how it had once actually done it's job, leading Thomas to believe that he could actually do something useful with his life.

"What would you do with the clay once you mined it?" I asked as I hung the sheets on the line. The sun was already high in the sky indicating it was after noon and I expected the sheets would be done before Christian got home.

"We would take the color out of it and sell the color for various things," Thomas replied.

I nodded. The red of the clay that I had seen seeping up through the floorboards of the house was a vibrant red. Sadly, I was not a businesswoman and had no idea what the purposes of it or the dye would be. "So did you work on the machine in that upstairs workshop?"

"No." Thomas was looking down, fiddling with the wet sheets in the basket.

I raised an eyebrow. "What did you use it for then?"

"I built toys for Lucille."

"Toys?" I hadn't seen a single toy up there or around the house. "Why toys?"

"I figured out how to make them by spending so much time up in the attic with her. Our parents weren't exactly the loving kind and kept us up there for a good portion of our lives. I was intrigued by how the toys worked and started making them on my own. Lucille loved them. So I started making my own ideas. That's where I really got the idea for the mining machine. Mining wasn't what I wanted to do. But the house..." He glanced longingly at the old building. "Well, you've seen it; you know that state it's in. It was sinking and I had to do something before Lucille and I were swallowed up by it."

"So you gave up your dream so that you could save an old house?"

Thomas gave me a gentle smile. "It's not just a house to me, Rose. This was where I grew up. It's full of memories and...ghosts, if you will."

"It's also where you and your sister murdered women," I said before I could stop myself.

Thomas gave me a grim look. "Yes. It is."

"I just mean...don't you want to leave it behind?"

"I'm not mining the clay anymore, am I?" Thomas said with a sad smile.

No he was not. But he was still boarded up in the house so he obviously was still attached to something here. Whether that was the mining or the toy shop or the memories of his sister, I didn't know. But I was starting to like Thomas, no matter his past, and I decided then that I was going to help him move on. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

I didn't know what Thomas did when I wasn't around. Once we were finished hanging the sheets, Thomas excused himself back up to his bedroom. I watched him go and wondered what he did up there by himself all day long. Maybe he was still tinkering around with those toys. I wished he didn't leave me by myself in the house.

But it didn't really matter what he was doing, I still had things that needed to get done before Christian came home.

I tied my hair up to keep it out of the way and searched the house until I found a broom. The sheets weren't the only thing that needed cleaning and, so long as I had nothing else to do, I would need to clean the rest of the house. The men that were supposed to work on the house could be here any minute and, even though the house was an architectural disaster, I could at least clean it up a little.

I went through the entire bottom floor sweeping the floors and whacking cobwebs from the ceiling. I took down the holey curtains while I was at it. The house would look better so long as the furniture was better taken care of. It took a while but eventually, I was satisfied and moved on. I avoided the sinking floor where the clay was seeping up through the cracks and made my way up the stairs to start on the bedrooms.

It was colder up here since I was closer to the hole in the ceiling and I wished that the men would come sooner rather than later. I started on mine and Christian's bedroom first. Sweeping the floor was simple and I had to climb up on the bed to get the all the cobwebs.

A door slammed down the hallway and I jumped at the sudden noise. I stared at the open doorway wondering if maybe Thomas had decided to come back downstairs. I doubted it. He spent most evenings locked up in his bedroom. Maybe Christian had come home early.

"Christian?" I called out, getting down from the bed.

Leaving the room, I made my way down the hallway and looked for whatever door had been shut. If it wasn't Christian or Thomas, it could have just been the wind. I wasn't too far  down the hall when a door on my right started to creak open. It wasn't supposed to be creepy, but since I was home alone and the house was practically silent, I shivered. I walked to the door, gripping the handle of the broom like it was a weapon.

Gripping the iron handle, I pulled the door open to see that it was a closet, not a room. Sitting on the shelf directly in front of my was a very old, very dusty box. I grabbed it and pulled it forward. It was heavy and awkward but I somehow managed to haul it out into the hallway. It landed on the floor with a thump and I knelt down to look inside.

At first, I didn't know what it was. They were thick cylinders made from some sort of clay substance. I pulled one out at took a closer look at it. That was when I realized it belonged to a gramophone.