Descent

Chapter One

'What a waste of time', I thought to myself. I was going to some dinky town in the middle of nowhere called Evesville instead of working back in England. I, George Bralinski, was visiting my aunt for the time being and was going to be forced from any known (or at least popularly known) civilization for a while. I couldn't even call myself by my first name because of the crime that always continued to surface.'No wonder no one's heard of this place it's a dump for crooks and my grandmother's side of the family to wander about. Oh I suppose while I'm there I'll be robbed by someone because it's their tradition for newcomers. Hoorah.' While I knew I was safe with my family, I couldn't help but feel a sense that something was off when the buggy pulled into the town. I saw beggars wandering the streets, some with money in their pockets, some poor as a rag and almost felt guilty. Finally, as we pulled up to my aunt's house, he saw yellow police tape covering the doors and windows and my aunt outside sobbing. I quickly paid the horseman and ran to his aunt.
"Ok so far we have the dead body of what we suspect is Mr. James in your home, the body of his wife in their home, and what we suppose is the Bream couple's bodies by the stove downstairs because they haven't been seen since Yesterday."
The policeman stated. My aunt nodded while he stood there. Mr. James is, or I guess was, my uncle and my aunt and father's brother. The woman outside is my aunt James's sister. I honestly didn't know Uncle James that well because Mr. James was always busy with his wife or some "secret business" that even his wife didn't know about. It would always be his excuse to leave the table and lock himself inside his room. There was only one time when I had a glimpse of what his uncle was doing.
                Flashback
George, at the mere age of 5, was in his aunt's living room playing with his little wooden horse and his wooden people. His imagination making the dull non-colored figurines seem like they were real and talking. His favorite was a wooden knight he called Duncan. Duncan was a brave and noble knight who always saved the princess. That was his second favorite. He called her princess Amanda. Today Duncan was trying to get princess amanda away from a giant fire breathing dragon one hundred feet tall with teeth five times the size of his sword. Just as George was about to make Duncan slay the dragon and save the princess, his uncle, Mr. James, walked through the living room mumbling on about something under his breath knocking over some of George's other figurines. George opened his mouth to say something but he quickly shut his mouth. He knew not to say anything about his toys unless he wanted them taken away. Mr. James walked upstairs while mumbling on and George heard his door shut behind him. George, being suspicious, wanted to head upstairs. George thought it sounded like a great adventure for his knight and his horse. George quietly crept up the stairs and looked around when he reached the top. He saw to his left the guest room and the restroom. To his right, he saw his aunt and uncle's room with the door slightly cracked. George snuck on his hands and knees toward the door and peeked in. He saw his uncle sitting at a desk holding a letter and writing on another paper.
"Uncle John?" Mr. James jumped a little and looked at his nephew. He smirked a little.
"Getting bored George?" George thought about it and nodded.
"What's with the letter?" Mr. James looked at the letter in his hand and sighed.
"Well..." he stopped, "George why don't you see if dinners ready? I'm awful hungry."
Flashback ends
In my  mind, my  uncle was mysterious. Dying of an unknown cause wasn't any less mysterious. I looked to my aunt. All I could say was, "What happened?" My aunt tried to answer but was choked up by tears as she hid her head in her hands.
"This is a suspected murder" the policeman stated, "It could've been anyone really. Seems as if everyone in this town has blood on their hands." I nodded, not sure whether he was agreeing with the statement or not. The policeman went on talking again, " Ma'am, as always with families, if there's anything from the house you'd like as a remembrance of them you and your nephew may go in." With that, the policeman walked back to the other men who were discussing the murders. My aunt looked at me.
"Geor- I mean Mister Bralinski", my aunt looked around as if anyone cared who I was, "I don't have the courage to go into your uncle's house. Seeing everything would only bring back memories too soon. But I think it would be alright if you went in there one last time." My aunt touched my cheek as she said this. She was still Mrs. James because she'd been married, but soon widowed as her husband died of melanoma. I nodded and went towards the Jame's household. I looked at the ajar door and slowly stepped inside. As soon as I stepped into the living room, I felt the familiar ease and comfort I did as a child. Only this time, it was soon followed by the chill of death. I walked through the living room towards the stairs. I stopped in front letting memories of my childhood fill my mind. Remembering all the times my aunt James would call up saying meals were ready or I could play downstairs because she was no longer busy.
I reached the top of the stairs and looked toward my uncle James's office. The hallway was dark with the light having been smashed and  I walked toward the door and looked in. Furniture was thrown everywhere and you could smell blood. I walk further into the room getting a good look around. Papers from the fallen desk had been strewn everywhere. I looked over and saw a painting on the floor by blood. Where the painting once hung, there was an opened safe. I walked over and looked inside the safe. It seemed to be empty. But at a second glance, I saw something gleam. I looked carefully and saw that what seemed to be the back of the safe was really a cover. Lifting the cover out carefully, I set it on the floor and looked inside the safe. There was an envelope with something metal ripping the bottom. I carefully dug it out. I heard someone coming up the stairs and, curiosity coming over me, I stuffed the letter in my jacket. The same policeman from before walked in the door.
"Are you about done sightseeing boy? We need to condemn the area." He breathed heavily as he gave me an ugly stare. Noticing I hadn't answered I nodded and was escorted out of the house.
'I will open that letter' I thought to myself as the house was sealed off.
    Since the house was condemned, I was slightly grateful to hear my little trip to psychopath town, featuring a dead uncle and aunt along with a sobbing aunt in law, was canceled until further notice. Seeing as how my aunt had nowhere to stay, I invited her to stay with me. I fairly like where I lived. a spacious flat in Edinburgh, England. The only negative thing about her staying with me was, well, even though my flat was larger than usual, having two rooms, in my adventures with writing, I had filled my flat with books, papers and writing galore; and of course, my aunt said something.
".... Oh my George. What a... well.. very interesting setup you have here." I would've been offended, but her posh and endlessly friendly attitude made it hard not to smile and agree. That, and it was the first time I'd seen her smile since I saw her when I was a child.
I got her set up in the extra room and moved all of my writing tools and books to my room and the living room and let her rest after her traumatic incident.
"Do you need anything else?" I asked before I left her to herself.
"Nothing really but, George,'' she paused, "now that we're out of that wretched city, call me Rebecca instead of Auntie." I just nodded. I don't think I've ever said "Auntie" in my life, but I wasn't going to correct her.
  "Now," I thought, "time to open that letter."
I sat down at my desk for the first time in a week and just sat for a minute looking at the folder in front of me. Now that I had the chance to observe it, I saw it was an older letter. the bottom wasn't just heavy with items, the weight was making the envelope break and a piece of metal was hanging from the side. Finally, I reached forward and started to open it.
I tore from the top where the seal was unbroken and reached inside. The first thing I grabbed was a few pieces of old parchment paper. It was more than creased from where it had been folded and and the ink and paper were fading. I opened the letter and started reading. I couldn't believe what I was reading.