Chapter One-Hundred Sixty-Seven: Bastien

Chapter 167

Bastien

Bastien poured the tea into two cups while Jaxon sat on the window seat in the reading nook, gazing out the window.

Bastien: “How do you take your tea?”

Jaxon: “Nothing in it, please.”

He waved his hand dismissively. Bastien put two teaspoons of sugar in his own tea and brought out the two cups for him and Jaxon. Jaxon took it and thanked him. Basiten sat beside him and blew on his tea to cool it.

Jaxon: “Where am I, and what does your uncle want from me?”

He embraced himself.

Bastien: “Oh, we’re located on the outskirts of Clerteaux. I don’t know what Uncle Narcisse wants from you. Perhaps someone to entertain our guest.”

He replied.

Jaxon: “What, that fat fuck, Dougal?!”

He huffed.

Bastien: “I-I guess so… It seems nothing we do makes him satisfied, and my uncle thinks of others so much and probably brought you here to make him happy.”

He smiled.

Jaxon: “Right…”

He muttered.

Bastien: “He looked at me often, but Uncle Narcisse insisted he not go near me. He’s very protective. I’m all he has in our family.”

He said sadly. Jaxon raised an eyebrow.

Jaxon: “Didn’t you say your last name was Trémaux?”

Bastien smiled.

Bastien: “Yes, it is. I took my father’s name, not my mother’s or my uncle’s.”

He said genially. Jaxon shifted his eyes.

Jaxon: “What if you do have family besides your kooky uncle?”

Bastien looked away with sadness.

Bastien: “I don’t, though. I only heard stories from my Uncle Narcisse, but I don’t have that anymore.”

He sighed, staring down at his reflection.

Jaxon: “What if you do? Tristan is one of my good friends, and I know of his father, Victor.”

He nodded. Bastien swung his gaze to him.

Bastien: “That is not possible… They died in the housefire that Tristan started.”

He said, taking a plaintive tone.

Jaxon gaped at him.

Jaxon: “Dude, you’re being gaslit! I know Tristan well and his father, too!”

He nodded. Bastien shook his head.

Bastien: “I think you have someone else mixed up with my brother and father. I’m so sorry.”

He cupped his mouth. Jaxon peered into his face.

Jaxon: “But you look like your brother…”

He whispered. Bastien’s eyebrows rose. He then knit his eyebrows and slowly turned his head away.

Bastien: “I am so sorry, but I believe you have me confused with someone else. My uncle Narcisse wouldn’t lie to me.”

He said in a barely audible whisper. Jaxon surveyed him empathetically and drew a long breath.

The door swung open, and Dougal marched in wearing his “Gold Todger” armor.

Dougal: “My schoomdar senses are tingling!”

He cackled and gaped at Jaxon and Bastien. Jaxon gasped and clung to the wall.

Dougal: “Well, hello, gorgeous! I was staring at your ass while you were cooking that crappy meal! Now we can be all alone without that wanker to interrupt us!”

He licked his lips. Bastien knit his eyebrows.

Dougal marched up to him, fiddling with his groin plate. Suddenly, Dougal started shaking and fell to the floor with a mighty thud, shaking the room violently and convulsing. Narcisse stood over him with a smile. Bastien clasped his hand over his chest.

Bastien: “Uncle Narcisse! Thank goodness you arrived!”

He sighed with relief. Narcisse pressed a button on his remote, and Dougal stopped convulsing. He panted rapidly, sweating like a pig.

Narcisse: “You silly goose! I brought Jiro to you so you would avoid being in Basiten’s presence!”

He chuckled. Dougal gasped for air.

Narcisse: “Do you think I am so blissfully unaware of what you’ve been staring at?”

He grinned.

Dougal: “Sch-Schmoodar!”

He croaked. Narcisse pressed the button, and Dougal was shocked again, followed by rapid convulsing.

Narcisse: “I shall tango all night, my morbidly obese friend!”

He laughed.

Bastien cupped his mouth while Jaxon clung to the wall. Narcisse pressed the button once more, and Dougal lay there gasping for air.

Narcisse: “Do you want to have an aneurysm, my friend? You need to be fit for our new guests!”

He tossed the remote up and caught it in midair.

Narcisse: “Well, as fit as you can be.”

He said wryly.

He turned to Jaxon.

Narcisse: “What on Reona are you doing near him? Don’t you know your place was to entertain Lil’ Tubby?”

He smirked and shrugged.

Narcisse: “However, I would agree ‘tubby’ is a huge understatement.”

Jaxon: “I don’t want to be near him!”

He barked. Bastien rose.

Bastien: “He wasn’t harming me, Uncle Narcisse! He was excellent company! Yes, I love my solitude, but sometimes I like to speak with others, and he enjoyed my tea very much!”

He nodded. Narcisse put his hand on Bastien’s shoulder.

Bastien: “Oh, my little flower, he was manipulating you to turn you against me… Just as your brother and father would do. I am only looking out for your best interests, my delicate little petunia.”

He crooned as he held him close and rubbed the small of his back.

Jaxon: “GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

He bellowed and rushed to him. Narcisse put his hand out, and the force sent Jaxon crashing into the bookshelf and slamming on top of Dougal. Bastien gasped.

Bastien: “Jaxon!”

He cried.

Narcisse: “The rules of my house are as follows…”

He chuckled at Jaxon, who glared at him as a red glow surrounded him.

Narcisse: “Do not go near my nephew. Don’t touch him, look at him, or anything. Don’t go down the basement.”

He smiled. Jaxon bared his teeth at him.

Jaxon: “My Green Queen will chop you in half, asshole!”

He rasped. Narcisse threw his head back and gave a golf clap.

Narcisse: “Splendid, I do look forward to that!”

A light purple bubble formed over Jaxon and Dougal.

Jaxon: “HEY! WHAT IS THIS?!”

He pounded on the surface, which turned out to be as hard as Plexiglas.

Narcisse: “A bubble to keep you and our corpulent comrade out of trouble…, until our guests arrive.”

He cupped his chin and gazed out the window.

Bastien: “What guests are these, Uncle Narcisse?”

Narcisse turned to Bastien and held him close, kissing the top of his head.

Narcisse: “Nothing for you to worry about, my beautiful daffodil. You make your delicious tea and cinnamon pie for your favorite uncle and don’t worry your sweet head about anything.”

He crooned. Jaxon pounded the glass.

Jaxon: “You’re disgusting! You will fucking pay for this! Tristan and Victor are alive!”

He rasped, and suddenly the bubble shrank. Narcisse turned to Jaxon.

Narcisse: “Jiro, I think it’d be wise to not fill my precious starlight’s head with Tristan’s nonsense.”

He smiled. Jaxon panted. Celeste, help me, thought.

~

Tristan, Deimos, Celeste, and Jordi traveled through the dense woods as they made their way to Narcisse’s château.

They approached a densely planted green hedge maze, with walls that were neatly trimmed and formed intricate, winding pathways. The hedges were quite tall, obscuring the view of anyone walking inside, which added to the maze’s challenge. There were some scattered yellow flowers on top of the hedges.

Celeste: “What the fuck is this?!”

She asked sharply as she shot her hand out to the hedge maze.

Deimos: “A hedge maze.”

Celeste: “We have to travel through this piece of shit to get to Jaxon?!”

She rasped.

Jordi: “I don’t see any other way through it, and we finally reached some form of civilization.”

He shrugged.

Celeste: “Burn this piece of shit! I want to get to Jaxon!”

She commanded. Tristan drew a long breath.

Tristan: “Celeste, I want that as much as you, but none of us have fire abilities.”

He stated.

Celeste: “Lightning strikes cause fire. Jordi, send lightning on the maze and burn it.”

She stated.

Tristan: “What would that achieve? The fire would create high temperatures that none of us can walk through.”

He said with irritation.

Celeste withdrew her lighter and knelt to light it. Tristan marched to her, grabbed it, formed ice around it, and crushed it in his hand.

Tristan: “Will you stop this now?! I told you we will get to Jaxon! I don’t know why you’re so eager to have him when you kissed Fabien and hit on Jordi!”

He snapped at her. Celeste drew back.

Celeste: “I expect that meanness from Deimos, not you!”

She cried and ran into the maze. Deimos furrowed his eyebrows.

Deimos: “Yes, I’m always the dickhead!”

He huffed.

Tristan: “Let’s go and not waste time!”

He snapped and marched in. Deimos and Jordi followed him.

Jordi: “Tristan, what’s wrong?”

Tristan: “Everything is, Jordi. Everything is going to crash down, and nothing will be the same after this.”

He knit his eyebrows. Jordi looked away and couldn’t shake the feeling he was right.

They went to a spacious area with a checkered floor. Celeste was there, punching stone chess piece sculptures and causing the stone to shatter with each blow.

Jordi: “There you are!”

He called out to her.

Jordi: “See, this is a sign we’re going through the maze and not losing our way!”

He said genially to her. Tristan drew a long breath, examining the rubble at his feet.

Tristan: “What is all of this, and what was that about back there?”

He asked her sharply. She pouted and looked away.

Celeste: “You were being mean!”

Tristan glared at her.

Tristan: “Well, you were doing that, Celeste! Why do you want to set your logic aside from someone whom you set aside when things get difficult anyway?!”

He snapped.

Celeste: “You put IVY ahead of me! You never looked at me!”

She cried. Tristan gaped at her.

Deimos: “Great, we’re in another continent, and someone had to bring up Ivy.”

He huffed. Jordi knit his eyebrows.

Tristan: “Celeste, you are speaking of something that transpired a year ago. You KNOW how I feel about her now!”

He snapped.

Celeste: “But maybe I wanted you, and you put HER ahead of me!”

She gently shoved him. Deimos looked away and scowled. Tristan stared at her and sighed.

Tristan: “Well, I do apologize, and I am paying for that now, aren’t I?! A good friend is dead because of her, and she can’t stop stalking me! Now you dredge this up when it’s the LAST THING I NEED!”

He screamed.

Tristan: “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted me at that time?!”

He challenged her. Deimos looked away and turned his back. Celeste pouted.

Celeste: “I don’t know, ‘cause you want Ivy.”

She huffed.

Tristan: “I DON’T WANT HER NOW! USE PAST TENSE!”

He screamed.

Deimos: “Why the fuck are you bringing up Ivy and this? Who cares? You want Jaxon or Fabien.”

He growled.

Celeste: “And you stayed with Ivy despite hating her!”

She snapped at him.

Deimos: “Yes, I did. I own that.”

He sighed.

Jordi: “What is any of this achieving? No one likes Ivy, and this is history, irrelevant to the present. Tristan didn’t do what he did out of malice, but he doesn’t want you or anyone hurt, and he’s hurting now.”

He said calmly to her. Tristan smiled a bit at what Jordi said.

Celeste: “And you hurt Fabien! He wanted to be your friend!”

She snapped. Jordi hung his head.

Jordi: “And I apologized to him for brushing him off despite him sending his laughing stock to bully me at the theaters. He never apologized to me! I can’t make him accept my apologies, and I can’t reason with Fabien!”

He said sharply.

Tristan: “What is ANY of this achieving, Celeste?! This is NOT getting us to Jaxon any quicker when you’re dredging up bullshit that doesn’t matter anymore! Bullshit that is dead and buried at this point!”

He snapped. Celeste embraced herself and looked away.

Tristan: “It seems you want the easy way out, and this is why you’re detaching yourself from Jaxon… He is going through PTSD from the events of Seashell Cove, and this is a foreign concept to him. He was thrust into our world months ago. He’s not going to adapt when you and I went through this for DECADES!”

He blurted and cried. Deimos raised an eyebrow.

Deimos: “Decades? Tristan, you went with me to the camp in 1982. That was five years ago.”

He said with confusion. Tristan glared at Deimos.

Jordi: “Oh, that’s when I got mine, too!”

He smiled.

Deimos: “Tristan, you were at the camp with me five years ago. What did you mean by decades?”

He asked sharply.

Tristan: “Deimos, I’m upset right now, and it slipped out! I know when I got my powers!”

He said tersely.

Deimos: “No, Tristan, you wouldn’t let something like that slip…”

He hissed.

Jordi: “Does it matter when?”

Deimos: “Yes, it does! It’s ONE MORE THING HE KEPT FROM ME!”

He snapped at Jordi. Jordi drew back.

Tristan: “Oh, I see. You’re still bitter about when I kept almost having sex with Ivy from you. This is not the same thing. I blurted something out in the heat of the moment, and you’re making this about something I apologized for and something that made you leave me at the park.”

He countered.

Deimos: “I am sorry I did that!”

He sighed.

Tristan: “No, you’re not. People ask me why I stay with you after you did this to me and point out that you are generally verbally abusive to me, but here I am, Deimos. Still with you.”

He said coldly. Deimos hung his head.

Deimos: “I am so sorry, Tristan…”

He said in a plaintive tone.

Celeste: “Fuck this! I’m going to find Jaxon!”

She huffed, marched through the maze, and was suddenly knocked out with a large mace. Jordi’s jaw dropped, and Tristan and Deimos were taken aback. Jordi caught Celeste in time so she wouldn’t crash on the floor.

They saw Darashinai dressed in a lavish, regal gown, primarily in red, black, and gold, which are colors strongly associated with the suit of hearts in playing cards.

She wore a large, red and black dress with a dramatic, full skirt. The skirt had an opening revealing an underskirt of black with gold and yellow triangular accents, mimicking the look of a playing card suit. She had a high, white collar that framed her face.

She wore a small, gold crown and held a mallet with a large, bright red heart at the top, emphasizing the “Queen of Hearts” theme.

Deimos: “Oh, you gotta be fucking SHITTING ME! Dougal is here?!”

He rasped.

They heard Narcisse’s voice blare on the speakers.

Narcisse: “Afternoon, lady and gentlemen… and Tristan! Darashinai was created with a few upgrades, just for my guests. I hope you enjoy a full live-action storybook of my favorite story, Alice in Wonderland! Isn’t it whimsical? It’s like your mind games you always play on others, my dear Tristan!”

Tristan glared at the speaker with hatred, and a spear of ice came crashing down on it, shattering it into pieces.

Celeste scrambled to her feet and rammed into Darashinai.

Celeste: “FUCK YOU!”

She rasped. Darashinai grabbed her and threw her down with force, cracking the stone floor and shattering it. Celeste bared her teeth and delivered a hard punch to her face, breaking her jaw. She grabbed her head and slammed it straight down, embedding it into the stone floor. Jordi shot his hand out, and a bolt of lightning struck down on her mace. The electricity coursed through the metal, shocking Darashinai to the core.

Darashinai: “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGHHHH!!!”

She rose from the rubble and swung her mace at Jordi, sending him crashing into the hedges. Jordi gasped and clutched his torso. Deimos rushed to him and put his hands out to heal him. Darashinai raised her mallet to whack Deimos. Celeste lunged at her and threw her down on the ground. She slammed her head repeatedly into the floor, cracking it, and blood spattered.

Darashinai roared and grabbed Celeste and fired at Deimos, sending the two crashing down. Darashinai grabbed her mace and marched toward Celeste, Jordi, and Deimos. She raised her mace, and it came crashing down. Celeste grabbed it and bared her teeth as she tried to pry it from her. She used her foot on the handle to shove it away from her. Darashinai used her force to push them back and swung her mace at them. They all screamed and went flying into the hedges.

Darashinai turned to Tristan. Tristan formed a sword of ice and drew it. She chuckled and, with a flick of her weapon, it shattered. Deimos healed himself, Celeste, and Jordi. His eyes widened with horror when he saw Darashinai marching toward Tristan.

Deimos: “TRISTAN! NO! GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

He screamed and charged after her. He leaped and delivered a karate kick to her face, sending her staggering back. Deimos stood before Tristan.

Deimos: “I won’t let ANYONE hurt him!”

He bellowed. Darashinai shifted her jaw and locked it back into place.

Celeste delivered a punch to her head, the impact so hard that it turned her head to the other side. Darashinai’s arms flailed around, grabbed her head, and as she turned it back into place, it made a cracking sound. Deimos and Celeste put their fists up.

Tristan glared at Darashinai. As she marched to them, a pillar of ice shot out, crashing into her, shoving her through all of the hedges in the maze.

Darashinai: “YAAAAAAAAAAAARRRHHH!”

The pillar then crushed her against the stone wall at the end of the maze, sending blood, brains, innards, and eyeballs flying.

The ice pillar shattered, and a splattered mess of blood was left on the wall. Celeste whistled at the path Tristan made.

Celeste: “Nice work, Tristan.”

Tristan dusted himself off and went down the path, saying nothing. Jordi sighed and followed him. Celeste and Deimos also followed.

~

As they ventured down the path, they approached a serene, lush, and slightly gothic garden. There was a weathered statue of an angel with enormous wings, standing on a low pedestal overlooking a small, dark pond covered with lily pads. The entire area was heavily shaded by dense, dark green foliage, including a large tree and a weeping willow cascading down.

To the left of the statue, a dark wooden bench was set back slightly, bearing the inscription “Beaumont.”

They then came across a highly ornate, dark wrought-iron gazebo set within a formal garden.

The structure featured a dark, elaborate roof with intricate scrollwork, filigree, and decorative finials. The support columns were also heavily decorated, giving the entire piece a strong Victorian or Gothic aesthetic.

Inside the gazebo, on a central pedestal, stood a more miniature, dark figurative statue in a dancing pose. The gazebo sat on a tiered stone base, surrounded by a manicured lawn ring. A narrow, wet gravel path leads up to the structure.

The garden was characterized by very neatly trimmed hedges that formed a dark green, providing a structured and enclosed feeling.

A quintessential Gothic mansion stood before them. The mansion itself was large, constructed from dark stone, and featured complex architecture typical of the Victorian Gothic Revival style. It had multiple steep, gabled roofs, prominent dormer windows, and a central round tower topped with a spire. The siding was black, weathered, and covered in patches of dark moss. There was a deep, shadowy veranda that ran across the front, with a set of steps leading up to it.

A few warm lights were visible through the large, narrow, arched windows, contrasting with the cold, dark exterior and suggesting a presence within. A gravel path led toward the steps.

Several old, dark monuments were scattered along the path, including a prominent, upright headstone near the beginning.

Jordi stopped to examine the headstone and brushed aside the ivy. It read, “Gaston Beaumont January 16th, 1897 - July 21st, 1955” on the top and “Emmeline Beaumont July 3rd, 1908 - July 21st, 1955” on the bottom.

Jordi: “Who are these people? Your grandparents?”

Tristan stared blankly at the mansion and then at Jordi. He had fear in his eyes. He gulped and nodded mutely.

Tristan: “M-My other grandparents. I never met them.”

He said, his voice trailing off.

In the driveway, a beige Peugeot 205 was parked. Suddenly, they heard a pop and wheezing. Jordi turned his head to see Celeste slashing at each tire on the car. She then grabbed a headstone with an angel on it, lifted it above her head, and struck the hood of the vehicle. The hood was dented, the windshield was smashed, and the hood was crushed around the engine.

Celeste: “Now fuckface can’t get away from me!”

She dusted her hands. Jordi blinked.

She went up the steps and smashed through the door. Tristan, Jordi, and Deimos rushed up the stairs and stepped in.

They entered a grand foyer, dominated by a sweeping, curved staircase covered in a vibrant red carpet that extended onto the main floor. The architecture was incredibly ornate and elaborate, featuring high vaulted ceilings with pointed arches—intricate, dark paneling and detailing covered the black walls, balustrades, and columns.

Multiple, multi-tiered chandeliers hung from the ceiling, providing the main illumination and casting a warm glow that contrasted with the surrounding darkness.

Balconies and upper levels overlooked the main floor, lined with detailed, dark railings.

The main level had several arched niches and doorways, within some of which stood statues, adding to the hall’s classical, eerie atmosphere.

Tristan froze on the spot and trembled. Jordi glanced at him and slowly put his arms around him to comfort him. Tristan smiled somewhat and patted his hand.

They heard footsteps descending the stairs and turned to see Narcisse coming down and clapping.

Narcisse: “Bravo! Never heard of knocking, Missy? Ever take social etiquette classes, or do they offer such classes in the heart of Tejas?”

He smirked. Celeste bared her teeth.

Celeste: “GIVE ME JAXON!”

She roared and charged after him. Deimos followed and charged after him. The two leapt with Celeste ready to maul him, and Deimos prepared to deliver a karate kick. Narcisse smiled at them. They stopped in mid-air, and a light purple bubbled formed over them.

Celeste: “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!”

She rasped and tried to punch the bubble. Deimos kicked it in an attempt to crack the surface.

Narcisse: “Something to keep you two village idiots at bay while I give a warm welcome to my handsome nephew.”

He chuckled. Jordi braced his feet apart, and Tristan glared hatefully at Narcisse.

Deimos: “I’ll fucking kick your pompous ass, dickhead!”

He rasped.

Narcisse: “How charming. I wonder what my nephew would see in you, but beggars can’t be choosers. Adieu, simpletons.”

The ball floated up and down into one of the arches.

Celeste: “YARRRGHH!!”

Narcisse turned to Tristan and smiled.

Narcisse: “Now, where were we before Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Dumber interrupted us?”

Jordi stood before Tristan.

Narcisse: “I see you all made a mess of my live-action storybook village.”

He chuckled.

Tristan: “What did you expect, Narcisse?”

He hissed.

Narcisse: “Nothing less from the very boy who started the housefire claiming the lives of my darling sister and my two children!”

He hissed through clenched teeth. Jordi raised an eyebrow.

Tristan: “I didn’t start that fire. That thing did.”

He countered with a sneer.

Narcisse: “That ‘thing’ is your mother.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. Tristan shook his head.

Tristan: “NO, IT’S NOT!”

He bellowed and slashed his hand through the air, forming a floor of icicles that shot at Narcisse. He formed a light purple bubble over himself. When the tips of the icicles hit the bubble, they broke off. Narcisse flicked his gaze to see some of the icicles crack through his bubble. The bubble popped, and Narcisse inhaled sharply.

Narcisse: “I knew it would have to come to this.”

He withdrew a high-frequency sound device and pressed the button. Jordi and Tristan screamed and cupped their ears as the high sound pierced them. Jordi bared his teeth, and a bolt of lightning came down and struck Narcisse, blowing up the device and electrocuting him. Jordi panted. Narcisse staggered to his feet and bared his teeth.

Narcisse: “You impertinent little prick…”

He said flatly. Jordi flicked his gaze to the melting ice on the floor.

A purple bubble formed over Jordi.

Jordi: “HEY!”

He snapped.

Tristan: “Let him go, Narcisse!”

He ordered. The ball floated into another archway.

Jordi: “TRISTAN!”

Narcisse glared at Tristan.

Narcisse: “You’re hardly in any position to bark orders at me, boy.”

He said coldly. Tristan glared at him and formed two ice arrows that floated above him. The arrows flew at Narcisse. He formed a bubble over himself and gasped when the arrows shot through the glass. He popped the bubble; the arrows fell to the floor where they smashed upon impact, and Narcisse ran up the stairs.

Tristan: “You can run but you can’t hide… Your words.”

He hissed. Narcisse turned to him and smirked.

Narcisse: “We’ll see about that…”

He ran down an archway. Tristan ran upstairs and followed him.

~

Celeste and Deimos rolled into an incredibly opulent and richly detailed study characterized by a Victorian aesthetic. The central focus was a massive, ornate fireplace built into a floor-to-ceiling wall of dark, carved wood paneling. A fire burned warmly within the hearth, casting a golden light on the immediate surroundings. The mantlepiece above the fire was elaborately carved with Gothic arches, sculptural elements, and decorative reliefs.

A large, dark painting hung above the mantle, depicting Narcisse in a safari outfit, kneeling on the ground with a rifle and a dead hippopotamus. Hanging from the walls were several animal head trophies, such as rhinos, hippos, and buffalo.

A heavy, multi-bulb chandelier hung from the ceiling, its warm light highlighting the dark wood.

The seating area was arranged intimately in front of the fire. Two large, facing black leather wingback armchairs with deep tufting flank a low wooden coffee table. The floor was covered by a richly patterned area rug in deep reds and burgundy tones, adding a splash of color against the dark wood floor.

Celeste snarled and delivered multiple punches to the bubble, forming cracks until the bubble shattered and dissipated. She looked around. Deimos breathed a sigh of relief. He bent over with his hands on his knees.

Deimos: “We have to get to Tristan…”

He said breathlessly.

Celeste: “Right, but we need a weapon.”

She looked around for one.

Deimos: “A weapon is not going to do shit to those bubbles he uses.”

He fielded with irritation.

Celeste: “Never know ‘til you try.”

She grabbed the rifle held by the buffalo and lifted it. A trap door opened beneath Deimos and Celeste. They shrieked as they fell below and slid down a chute.

Deimos: “WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUCKK?!”

He bellowed as they slid down.

They fell into a dark, dilapidated basement. A layer of dust covered the floor, including a worn, patterned rug. The space is extremely dark, with the main illumination coming from a single, dimly lit chandelier hanging near the center, and a faint light source near the back.

There were wooden beams on the ceiling, a doorway to the left, and a dark, arched stairwell leading upwards. A curtain hung loosely near the stairs. Simple, antique furnishings were scattered within the room. There was a wooden chair pulled up to a small table or desk on the left. A small round table covered with a white cloth was on the right, holding a few indistinct objects.

Celeste shook her head and slowly rose.

Celeste: “Where are we now?”

Deimos dusted himself off.

Deimos: “Some derelict basement.”

He huffed. The two stopped and could hear classical music coming from the area. Deimos braced his feet apart, ready for impact.

Deimos: “...We’re not alone.”

Celeste nodded and ventured further into the basement as the music grew louder with each step.

She and Deimos approached a wall. Celeste raised her fist to punch through it, but Deimos caught her hand. He shook his head and pressed a button on the wall. The wall slid open, revealing a blank room devoid of furniture or anything with a personal touch. The two slowly stepped in and saw a record player on a small end table, with a considerable moss green hyperbaric chamber in the center of the room. Celeste and Deimos slowly approached it and looked into the window. The two saw a person inside with third-degree burns.

Celeste: “What the fuck is this?!”

She asked in a high-pitched squawk. Deimos knit his eyebrows.

Deimos: “I don’t know where to begin.”

He said with uncertainty.

~

Tristan marched down a magnificent, Gothic-revival style hallway, characterized by an intense and dramatic color palette of deep red and dark wood. A rich, red damask wallpaper with an intricate, repeating pattern covered the walls, contrasting with the dark wooden paneling that framed the lower sections and the doorways. A plush, patterned red runner rug extended down the center of the dark wooden floor, drawing the eye toward the distant end of the hall.

The corridor featured a series of arched doorways and ceiling structures that created a tunnel-like effect, emphasizing its length. The ceiling was dark and featured ornate decorative molding.

Multiple bronze chandeliers with soft, warm lighting hung from the ceiling, providing a contrast to the surrounding darkness.

A highly ornate, dark wooden console table sat against the wall. It had a green marble top and held a few gilded decorative objects, with a framed portrait of Narcisse hanging above it.

At the end of the hall, Tristan saw a cream colored Maine coon tabby. The cat raised his tail and ran down the foyer and stopped at the wall. Tristan walked down toward him. The tabby stood on his hind legs and pressed his forepaws against the wall. The wall rotated, taking the cat to the other side. Tristan swallowed the lump in his throat. He gingerly approached the wall and pressed on it. He jumped back when it rotated and quickly went into the other side.

He saw a dark staircase before him. Tristan slowly ascended the stairs. As he made his way up, an aroma of cinnamon, baking spices, and freshly poured tea filled his nostrils. It contrasted with the smell of death and despair that filled the house.

He slowly turned the knob and entered the living space. He saw the same cat hop through the nook and into the kitchen. Tristan surveyed his surroundings and followed the cat into the kitchen. Tristan gasped when he saw Bastien standing before him. Bastien cupped his mouth.

Bastien: “Qui es-tu?”

He whispered.