The Gathering Dark

04

My fingers curled around the key's cold metal as I eyed the bottom of the stairs, swallowed in darkness. The mere thought of stepping foot into the depths of this house fills me with dread.

"Are you sure this key opens one of the rooms in the basement?" I glanced at Claude as we made our way down the mansion's backstairs, used mostly by the house staff in those days.

"Yes, I remember it belongs with the original set when the house was built. The first to the third floor room keys were replaced over the years, but not the cellar keys," Claude said, holding a lamp to augment the sparse lighting. His low voice seemed to resonate within the narrow space while his steps produced no sound--the only indication, as far as I've observed, that he was no longer a part of the living world.

On the other hand, I winced at every creek of the wooden stairs as my foot landed on each step, my voice echoing slightly in the cold, damp air. I'm surprised the demon hadn't made his appearance to see what we were about, with all the noise I was making. The lights flickered weakly above us from the high-angled ceiling, and Claude raised the lamp higher for my benefit.

"Can you recall anything of what happened that day before"—I hesitate, steeling myself—"before you died?" I don't know why the words sounded cold to my ears, when I've asked the same question many times during my "ghostly" interviews. Somehow I felt that uncovering the truth would be hard on Claude. But I had to get as much information as I can to make sense of everything that's happened in the last hour. If I can just find the answers, I may be able to help him.

Claude let out a deep, frustrated sigh. "I remember everything clearly, save the day I died, like a dark fog that I can't see through no matter how I try. But I remember how the demon came to plague our family—that final year—" His voice caught, the flood of memories making him hesitate.

As we reached the landing before the last flight of stairs, I turned around to face him with barely suppressed incredulity. "That demon has been in this house for more than a century?"

Claude's eyes had a faraway look. "No one knows how he came to be, or why. I know he caused my parents' death in that accident, for he himself told me so. My mind was not in the right state after their deaths."

I looked at him, aghast. I read about the accident during my research of the Elburke family's history prior to my arrival, how the horses that pulled his parent's carriage went out of control, and how they were found, days later, in the bottom of a ravine a few miles from the estate. He must have been devastated, knowing the truth behind their deaths, but who in their right mind would believe him?

Following their deaths, he had closed in on himself, forfeiting his scheduled piano concertos, the media citing his isolation to severe depression.

My heart reached out to him as I touched his hand, offering comfort, unsure what good it would do now but giving it regardless. His eyes searched my face and what he found there seemed to give him the courage to continue.

"I had no idea why Azriel wanted my soul or why he would think so, as I believed it tainted as everyone else's. But though I was half-mad with despair, I never gave in to his demands. When he threatened to kill Alastair, my younger brother--my only thought was that, if I ended everything--the demon would leave him alone."

I recalled that it was mentioned briefly on a few accounts, as Claude's family had tried to suppress the news as best they could. "But you lived through that ordeal."

Claude nodded as he said softly, "It was fortunate that my fiancé, Emily, found me in time. She nursed me back to health. My recovery took several months, but she never gave up. She was... a formidable lady indeed." Under the light, he smiled with a wistful sadness.