Mystery Noir

Little Monsters Part 11

After finishing coffee and cupcakes, I spent the next few hours listening to the tape my mother had made and following along with both the image of the gate and the translation book she had made for the recording. It was odd, after all these years, to hear her voice sounding the words and symbols out to me like she used to do when teaching me to read.

And for his part, Enzo just focused on trying to translate the notebook and remained a silent companion at my side as I wrestled through memorizing a new language and sitting in a space with the presence of my mother. I focused on the symbols on the gate, but I tried to learn all the sounds and words that I could, though I knew I couldn't do it all in an afternoon.

After the fifth iteration, I stood up and walked into the spare room, pulling down boxes until I found one of mine. I was digging through my things, muttering to myself when I heard Enzo make a noise behind me. With a frown, I straightened and turned around, finding him looking at one of my grandparent's photo albums. "What?"

Enzo's expression was surprisingly tender, until I spoke, at which time he grinned and turned the album around for me to see what he was looking at. A picture of me standing, complete with red shoes and ridiculous neon clothing, between my mother and grandmother. "You were cute."

"Ass." I rolled my eyes, but I paused and reached out, frowning at the picture of my mother. It was probably one of the last ones I had of her, and she looked... ill.

Haunted. Drained of colour, with bags under her eyes and incredibly thin. I didn't remember her like that. She was smiling, and it was a genuine smile, but I remembered her beautiful and happy. I had always thought that picture of her I'd had in my mind was from the last time I had seen her. But there, in the picture, she was different.

"This... whatever it is... do you think it's like... a parasite or something? It latched on to her and she had to go to it, it was making her sick?" I shook my head and turned back to the box to search, as opposed to having to look at my mother.

I grinned triumphantly to myself when I found my old Walkman, complete with headphones, and turned around to see Enzo watching me cautiously.

Finally, he shrugged. "What did that book have... your mother talking about enduring something... I would assume it was for you. Maybe... it was... here that was making her sick."

"How would earth make her sick?" I wanted to shut him down, but it was possible that both our theories were correct. If wherever my mother had gone was a place she had been addicted to, staying here would have made her ill. "Papa always muttered that he thought she was on drugs. Perhaps it was a supernatural kind of addiction."

Enzo followed me out of the room, and after finding batteries to get my Walkman running, I sat down on the couch and closed my eyes. I didn't want to waste any more time, but I needed to be sure I knew what to do. And I needed to keep my brain relatively fresh.

Instead of turning back to the symbols and the tape of my mother, I opened my eyes and reached out for the box I had not yet bothered to inspect.

Wiping off a thick layer of dust, it turned out to be a black lacquered wood, with images of the setting sun etched in gold all over it. There was a tiny golden clasp in the shape of the sun, and on the lid was a word in the symbols.

"What's it say? Danger? Do not open?" I tried to force a laugh, only to see Enzo frowning at the box.

"Nina." Was all he offered.

I raised a brow. "What, Enzo?"

He shook his head and pointed to the box. "It says Nina."

The creature in the book had known my name, which I had assumed was because of Penny, or perhaps my mother. But the fact that my name was etched into the lid of a box that had been found in a long abandoned castle in the middle of the Colorado Rockies, was a bit farfetched.