Chapter Thirteen: Paintings

The penthouse room was dark and depressing, reminding Ruler of his ugly childhood. He had grown up on a farm tending to cattle and baling hay. His father had told him all his life that the farm would be worth something someday. He had said that their job had a great purpose. That almost everything the people of Aggerton owned came directly from their crops and cattle.  But Ruler knew even then that you couldn’t find success bending over mud and cow crap all day. Even when he was young, out in the fields baling hay Ruler had only been focused on one thing; success. Success came from a status earned through fame and wealth. Success was rooted in the city. Not on some forsaken, muddy farm. So when the old man died, Ruler had sold the place right away and moved to the city.

Ruler leaned back in his chair and looked at the success that was everywhere around him. He had everything a mortal could want. He had books, furniture, expensive clothes, several sports cars and an extravagant place to live with excellent food to eat. He had true happiness. People were blatant liars if they didn’t believe this was heaven. The average working man would give anything to be in Ruler’s position.

Who needed ‘love’ when you could have money and any physical possession you desired? ‘Love’ was, by nature, a boring concept and a weak idea. ‘Love’ couldn’t feed a person or pay off bills and debts. It can’t do anything, thought Ruler. It’s useless. I wish my dad could have seen that before he died. His charity got him nowhere in life. He was dirt poor! We were dirt poor! And then he died…

Ruler shook his head and laughed. The sound carried over the gloomy silence, reminding him that he was alone. And I like it that way, he thought. All the curtains had been drawn shut inside the study. The only light that seemed to pierce the benighted atmosphere was coming from the sliding glass doors on the far end of the room where the burgundy drapes had been torn off their rungs and wouldn’t close properly. Ruler had messed with it, trying to fix it earlier, but found that it wouldn’t work properly, so he finally gave up on the thing and sat down. His hand was still dripping with blood from the elevator mirror he had smashed. He had been so frustrated with Bob that he had not bandaged it up yet, but instead, pushed the dull throbbing pain from his mind and sat quietly, thinking.

He watched as the bright red hues of the setting sun danced across the floor. He could see particles of dust and dirt floating in its penetrating rays. He hadn’t noticed how messy his flat was getting until now. He followed the bright dust streams to a gold rimmed painting on the far side of the study. His eyes squinted as he gazed at it for a moment. His thoughts began to churn in all directions.

The painting was masterfully created and was incredibly beautiful to look at. It depicted a lone angel sitting on a gray and white cloud. In his hands he held a golden harp and his face was youthful and plump, like a school boy’s. He was leaning over the fluffy white nimbus and gazing out over the vast ocean below. A single mariner’s ship could be seen on the dark horizon. The ship’s tan sails were open wide and its ropes were tied down, as if it were racing for freedom. In the distance could be seen a violent tempest coming to swallow the crew and their precious load. The massive ocean wave looked like a great black monster, come to swallow them. The rest of the story the painting held seemed grim for the mortals on the ship, yet the angel sat on its cloud, playing its harp, complacent to their fate.  

Ruler shivered as he thought about their trip to the island. Would they encounter such a storm as this; would they be drowned and killed in the depths of the sea, as the angels in heaven watched idly on?

He shifted his dark thinking to Bob again. The idiot had ruined everything for them. He had lost the star map and set their plans back severely. They would probably never set out into the ocean at all. Without that map they would just have to keep looking for another big break. I’ll find a way to make things better, he thought. I am not going to let these problems drag me down to an early grave. His heart took courage and his blood boiled with determination.

Ruler looked back over to the painting. He saw it in a new light. He viewed it as a world in which he was god and supreme lord over all; this was a world in which he could bind the elements to his liking. He saw himself quieting the seas and the waters, rebuking the winds and waves. And he also saw himself sending that complacent, little jerk hovering over the sea on his cloud, to a watery grave. No angel of mine would stand idly by as the world went to hell in a hand basket. If they’re not doing their job properly, then it’s to the pit with them! Ruler smiled at the imagery of throwing an angel into the fires of hell. It pleased him greatly. He watched the thing wither and die in his mind’s eye; it looked like a moth caught in a bonfire. Serves him right. 

Ruler leaned forward in his seat and whispered to himself as if he were telling a secret to an old friend.

“This is not a dream… I will make it a reality, as soon as I have the ‘Brass’ in my possession. I will be God. I’ll do a hell of a better job than what the current God has done… that man has been messing up for ages! It’s time to move over and let someone else take the wheel of creation and steer existence in a new direction. It’s time to end all suffering in the world. It’s time for as knew ruler!” He laughed at his own joke, if only his dad could see him now, on the very edge of greatness peering into a future where he ruled the world.

The grandfather clock at the other end of the room rang out loudly, awkwardly cutting his laughter short; it was seven o’clock.  Ruler came out of his obscure reverie and stared distastefully at the old thing resting in the corner. Each ding was like a galvanized spike to his subconscious. The bloody clock had pulled him away from his daydreaming and his soon-to-be reality. He mentally reminded himself to get rid of the old clock when he had the time.

He stood up and walked over to his study doors and, opening them, he headed for the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out some bandages and rubbing alcohol. He doused his wounds and gritted his teeth with pain. It felt like his knuckles were on fire. He wrapped everything up quickly and pulled out some pain killers. He chewed on the Pinedale for a minute and gripped the edge of the stainless steel sink tightly.  He swallowed and then pulled out his sleeping pills. He started downing them like candy… he didn’t want to wake up until the next morning.

He washed his face and dried off and was about to leave when something caught his eye. He looked at his weary reflection in the mirror. His face looked pale and tired. He had bags hanging under his eyes.

“Time has been cruel to you, old friend,” he whispered to the mirror. He raised a hand and rested it on the glass. “Your job is just too stressful. You need to find a way out of this business… find a better way to make a living.” 

Ruler pulled away from the mirror and headed to his bedroom. He lay on top of his sheets and stared blankly at the ceiling for what seemed like an hour. The drugs started to kick in as he pondered his complex situation. Bob Morgan’s words kept ringing in his head like an ominous bell from a tower. He kept hearing him say how he had pushed the taxi into the ocean with the star map inside. The man had managed to stop everything with his foolish actions. He should have checked his bloody list. He should have followed the plans. We should have had the star map by now!

Ruler wondered suddenly what he would tell Mr. Edmonds. He felt bile rise in his throat. The old man will have my head for this. He’ll kill me.

“No, I’ll kill him first. I’ll get Big ‘J’ to do it, and when he’s done I’ll have him kill Bob as well. Everything will work out just fine. I am going to make that worthless bag of crap suffer.” His words were beginning to slur from the sleeping pills. “He had better find another map!”

Without another word, Ruler drifted off into a deep sleep and began to snore.

*          *          *

Kaplen and Lee walked quietly down the dark hallway of the southern wing. Everything looked still and Lee thought it felt like they were walking inside a mortuary or a tomb. Old, rustic furniture lined the walls on all sides. Lee turned and looked at all the interesting doors as they past them. Each door had a unique design carved into its smooth, stained surface and no door appeared to have the same design. Some would spiral all over the place, others would twirl upward, and most used strait lines. The only constant was that they all seemed to be ancient and gothic. Odd shapes and figures began to jump out from the woodwork. A shiver ran down Lee’s spine as they walked. If the devil had ever needed a place to live, this would make him feel right at home.

Lee didn’t like this place at all. He could feel something strange swelling up inside of him. The urge to yell out rushed over him and filled his chest. He had never felt so desperate to leave a place before. There was something about this house that Lee couldn’t quite put his finger on. He had heard the guards mentioning a spirit wandering the halls. Lee wondered if this place was cursed or haunted. It felt like there was something evil watching them from the many shadows. It felt as if someone were breathing on his neck. The urge to yell out grew even stronger... he didn’t want to be here a minute more.

“Do you feel that?” asked Lee, his voice no more than a whisper.  The hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up and his skin prickled. It felt as though death had run its hand over his skin and it made him shudder with complete unease. There was something watching them… following them. Lee could almost see; it was like it was resting at the edge of the darkness. He could hear faint laughter and chattering and the sound of low clicking echoing through the halls.

Kaplen stopped. He looked back at Lee.

“Are you afraid?”

Lee stared at the abrupt question. Kaplen hadn’t even been looking at Lee. How did he know he felt uneasy? He didn’t know what to say so he kept quiet.

“Fear is what it wants from you. If you’re afraid, it knows. It fuels it. It drives it into a frenzy.” He looked down the hall. “You don’t need to fear. It’s a coward.” He paused and looked back over to Lee. “I don’t need to tell you that this mansion is cursed. You already know that. Everyone that has ever set foot in this house knows that.” He looked up at the ceiling. “This place tends to eat its owners up. It holds their souls. By the end of their life, it owns them.”

Lee’s eyebrows raised at the word ‘soul’. Kaplen was sounding a little religious and Lee hadn’t taken him to be the religious type up to this point. He did work for a man who openly dethroned God, after all.

“I thought Mr. Tash didn’t believe in God?”

Kaplen smiled. His aviator sunglasses shimmered slightly in the gloom. Lee wondered for the first time why on earth he was wearing them inside the gloomy hallways of this house. It looked a little ridiculous.

“Mr. Tash doesn’t believe in god. Well, at least, not yet.” He lifted a hand and placed it on his chest. “As for me, I believe there is a god, and I know that he is not pleased with me. I know he wants to send me to hell whenever he has the chance.”

Lee didn’t like the words. He looked up at the ceiling awkwardly so he wouldn’t see Kaplen staring at him behind the pitch black sunglasses.

“Does the ceiling ever end? Does this place even have any lights?” Lee asked noticing that he couldn’t even see where the ceiling ended because it went black before it came into view.

“It does,” said Kaplen. “But we like to conserve energy around here.”

They walked onward in silence for awhile before Lee spoke again.

“What brought on the curse?” asked Lee.

“Bad business, that’s what brought on the curse; a whole lot of bad business. The Fantas’ have been involved in crime for ages. I am relatively new to all the history behind it, but with that said, I’ll probably wind up here one day; trapped inside the walls, roaming forever. I know your uncle will. ” He turned and looked at a door to his right. He pulled out a white piece of paper and examined it for a minute and then let half a smile cross his face. They had stopped right where he wanted.

“Ahh… here we are,” said Kaplen. He walked over to the door and gripped the handle. “This will be your room for the night.” The bodyguard opened the thick, oak doors and walked in. Lee followed him and was surprised to see how spacious and bright the room was.  His eyes narrowed uncomfortably at the light. The atmosphere in here was completely different from the one that existed in the hallway. It was like night and day.

“Don’t touch anything on top of the dressers,” said Kaplen. “If you break it, you replace it! And some of these things are hundreds of years old, so don’t even think about stealing anything, either. We’ll know.”

As Lee looked around, he felt as if his uncle Tash had given him the best room in the Fantas mansion. The room was generally white and very bright, in stark contrast with everything Lee had known about this house so far. There was a large bed against the wall closest to the door and tapestries and paintings in beautiful frames rested on the walls. Sunlight was shining in through the open dormer window at the far end of the spacious room and Lee could hear birds singing their songs of the approaching winter in the distance. A cool breeze flooded in through the crack in the window and breathed new life into Lee. Despite the inviting atmosphere, the place looked like it hadn’t been slept in for years. Though it was well kept, dusted and cleaned, there was a distinct feeling of unease Lee couldn’t shake. As if he were walking into a stranger’s home and sleeping in their bed which, Lee realized, was exactly what he was doing. 

Kaplen walked over to the bathroom, opened the door and looked inside for a minute. When he was satisfied that everything Lee needed to get ready for dinner was in the room, he turned and looked at Lee. His gaze might have been hidden by his glasses, but Lee knew it was serious.

“You have to be careful around here. Something will happen to you if you’re not careful.” 

Lee nodded seriously and walked over to the bed, examining the white silk comforter resting over the pillows. He was so tired that Kapeln’s words didn’t sound so much of a warning as they did exhausting. It had been a very long day so far. So Lee stared at the bed, longingly. It looked elegant and soft as if someone had caught a cloud and made a bed out of it. There was some gold lettering embroidered on the fabric. It looked fancy and a little over-priced. Lee also realized that the language was unreadable.

“In the entire house, this is one of my favorite rooms,” said Kaplen. “It has a lot of history. The Fantas house wasn’t built all at once. It was a long process that brought it into completion. It was added upon by each of its previous owners, and it still gets bigger as the days go by.”

Lee looked over to the bodyguard. He wanted to know why Tash had had a change of heart and let him and Marten go. Why he was letting Lee stay in his house, in such a normal room, making him feel so at home. As much as Lee wanted to believe things were going to get better, he felt that something was not right with the way everything had turned out. He and Marten were supposed to be dead right now; he had lost the game. He had bet their lives and lost. Why was his uncle doing this for them? Lee had said his uncle could have the Brass out of desperation, but Tash wasn’t stupid. He had to know that Lee was just a lowly foreman. He had no say in who got what when it came to ancient artifacts on an expedition. He was just in charge of supplies.

“Do you see all the paintings in here?” asked Kaplen as he motioned to the walls. He hadn’t noticed Lee had got caught up in his own thoughts. “Do you see how they are arranged?”

Lee came out of his thoughts. He looked around the room at all the painting resting on the walls. It was magnificent and strange, indeed. There were hundreds of them. They were all standing next to each other on the walls; as close as could be. It looked like someone had put a giant jigsaw puzzle together.

“This room used to belong to a lady by the name of Jean. She wasn’t related to the family in any way, but she lived here and kept to herself. She was a lovely lady… at least, I loved her,” said Kaplen. There was some deeper emotion behind his words as he spoke that Lee couldn’t quite identify. Love? Or was it bitterness? Kaplen was a hard person to read. It seemed like he missed her, at least. Lee couldn’t see but his eyes hopped from one painting to the next.

“She liked looking at a new painting every day. As a matter-of-fact, she wrote a whole thesis on every one of these paintings that you see in here.”

Lee whistled his amazement.

Kaplen chuckled, and then took in a deep breath. The smell of lilac was coming in from the window.

“The papers she wrote never really had any foundation or preface to them. They were just made up. Jean loved to create her own history by looking at the pictures.” He sighed. “It’s a shame she went crazy! She finished the last thesis paper on the last picture in here before she died.”

“Wow, that sounds creepy,” said Lee. “Did you know her?” He sat on the bed.

Kaplen was a little hesitant. He thought for awhile then spoke.

“Yes, I knew her. Sadly, she was born with a serious illness.”

Lee could detect a little resentment behind his words. He studied Kaplen’s face, trying to detect his emotions again, but Kaplen was unyielding.

“What illness did she have?”

“She had a pigment disorder. She couldn’t let her skin touch the sun’s rays. It would burn her. Some people in town called her a vampire, because she would only come out at night. They were very prejudice against her.” Kaplen shook his head and looked over to Lee and grinned slightly. “It’s amazing how cruel people can be when they don’t understand something.” He paused. “I understand all too well, though. I have inherited some of her traits. She was my aunt.”

Lee felt unease as he said this.

“What traits have you inherited from her?”

Kaplen lifted a hand and tapped on his aviator sunglasses.

“It’s all in my eyes. I can’t go outside without my sunglasses. It’s hard from me to see in the sunlight without them. It’s a curse…” He smiled. “But it’s also a blessing. I can see perfectly at night. The darkness doesn’t scare me.”

“Could you see the person in the hall?” asked Lee. His skin was beginning to prickle again. He cleared his throat. “You know, the one that were standing just out of view in the darkness? Could you see… it?” Lee said, trying to remember if he felt it was a man or a woman.

Kaplen paused. He thought for a minute.

“Yes, I could see him.” He looked back at the open door. “I could see all of them.”

A shiver ran down Lee’s spine. The thought of there being more of these… whatever they were, really frightened him. He followed Kaplen’s gaze.

“Are they still there?”

“Yes. You need to watch out for the ones with the red eyes…”

Lee didn’t know what to say to this and so silence fell again. Lee felt he was bombarding Kaplen with questions and he didn’t want to overstep his bounds, but his curiosity was growing about this strange person he was standing next to.

“Do you mind me asking how old you are, Kaplen?” Lee asked. “Have you lived here long?”

Kaplen cracked his knuckles.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.”

Lee wished he had listened to his own instinct to keep quiet and he quickly changed the subject.

“Where’s Marten? He didn’t come up with us from the basement.”

“Mark is showing him to his room. He should be just across the hallway from you. Tash wants you guys to shower and get cleaned up before dinner.” Kaplen checked his watch. “Dinner will be served shortly, so you’d better hurry.” He walked over to the door and spoke, his voice sounding flat. “When you’re done showering there should be a black suit waiting for you. Put it on. I’ll come back and get you.”

Lee didn’t answer.

Kaplen was about to leave when he stop and turned.

“Don’t leave the room, Lee. Tash wouldn’t be pleased if you went missing.” With that said, he shut the door. It clicked as it settled into place. Lee sat there, waiting for a minute. His breathing was the only thing heard. Mr Fantas and his bodyguards had gone from being ruthless and bloodthirsty to striking up friendly conversations and being awkwardly kind. Something wasn’t right. Lee couldn’t put his finger on it.

We have to get out of here, he thought. We have to find a way to get out of here and get back to Tom and Runt. Today is turning out to be horrible. My uncle is crazy, and nearly killed us… not to mention our ship blew up.

Lee thought about ways he could escape from the Fantas Estate. He thought about opening up the door and bolting for the exit. He thought about jumping out the window and running as fast as he could to escape. He even thought about hiding under the bed and waiting for Kaplen to get back and see that he was missing. He thought and thought until he finally sighed with frustration… he was trapped. None of his scenarios were even close to being realistic. If he were to escape, by some miracle, he would be hunted by his uncle forever. They had to ride this one out to the end.

He felt suddenly sorry for Marten. He had dragged the fat business man into this without thinking about it first.

 “Well, there’s no use crying about it now,” said Lee. “The only thing there is left to do is take a shower.” He looked over to the bathroom. It would feel nice to get cleaned up and relax after all that had happened. He felt stiff from the day’s events.

In seconds he was taking a long, hot shower.

   

*          *          *

Lee lathered up his hair and rinsed a few times. The warm water felt good as it ran down his back and chest. When he was done he shut off the faucet and stepped out of the shower. He hugged his arms and shivered lightly at the cold as he grabbed for a towel and dried himself off. When he was done he wrapped the thing around his hips and pulled the shower curtain back up against the wall.

Lee walked over to the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like a homeless man that had gotten lost in a rainstorm. He looked like crap. But, he thought, that was to be expected after all that had happened to him today. He had gone through hell and come back, it seemed. His black hair was scraggly and hanging over his eyes. His face was rough and scruffy as if he had been camping out for a week. He hadn’t shaved in days. He opened the cabinet and looked for a razor to shave his face with. He found one resting conveniently on the top shelf and began to shear his face.

How could a man like my uncle Tash just kill someone? His thoughts began to wander. He finished up a stroke on his cheek, being careful the whole time not to cut himself. 

It was as if his uncle didn’t even have a soul in his body. I have to be careful what I say around him at dinner this evening. One wrong word and that’s it for me and Marten. He put down the shaver and wiped the excess foam from his face. He slicked his hair back with his hands. He was looking better and better by the minute.

Lee stood up straight and examined himself. He looked more like a gentleman than a dock worker. His eyes slowly shifted to the tiny little triangle shaped scars all over his chest and stomach. He had received them from his father when he was only sixteen years old. They served as a reminder of how much he hated the man. He had come home in a drunken rage looking for Lee’s mother. He smelled like crap and his eyes were red hot with alcohol. His intoxication had gotten the better of him. It was like he was a different person. It was like he was a monster. He drank because of their financial problems, because they couldn’t have the nice things in life. He had found Lee’s mother cooking dinner in the kitchen. Lee could still hear her cry out with each stoke of his father’s belt. He had not seen such brutality before in his life. Finally, Lee couldn’t take it anymore. He had yelled for him to stop, but he wouldn’t let up. His father threw her to the ground and started cursing at her with every whip of his belt. She was crying; she couldn’t get away. Lee remembered jumping on his back and grabbing him by the throat with his arms. His father staggered backward at the sudden shift in weight. He lost his footing and landed on top of Lee, the impact crushing the air from his lungs and causing his lower ribs to crack. He remembered his father teetering back up to his feet. His words were in a fury of hate and vindication. He could still see his father grabbing the hot pan from off the stove and throwing the burning grease onto his chest and stomach. The oil burned and sizzled straight through his shirt. He had never felt anything like it before. It felt like his body was melting.

“That should put the fear of god in you, boy!” His father had said with a grunt. “Teach you to respect your father and mind your own business!” Lee’s mother was still screaming. He left and locked himself up in his room for hours. When the alcohol finally became too much, he passed out on the bed like a giant bear. Later the police came and knocked the door down and they hauled him away.

Lee shivered at the scene as he replayed it in his mind. His Uncle Tash was no different from his own father.  

Lee pushed all thoughts aside and walked over to the bathroom door. He opened it and headed for the bed. Steam and moisture spilled out into the open room and dissolved into the air. A black suit was waiting for him on the red sheets just like Kaplen had promised. He put the new clothes on quickly. He was in the middle of tying his tie when there was a knock on the bedroom door. Lee turned and watched as the door opened slowly. Standing in the threshold was a very angry Marten. He was wearing a black suit just like Lee was, only his was a lot bigger.

“I am going to kill you, Lee,” said Marten as he took a step into the room. “I am going to snap your neck like a twig!” He curled his hands into chubby, round fists. He was breathing in and out rapidly.

Lee backed up.

“Now, Marten, calm down—”

Marten cut him off sharply.

“Calm down? Calm down!?” His face was getting red. “Do you know what they did to me down their in the basement? Do you know what I went through? And you want me to calm down!” He yelled even louder. “I feel like I want to pound you, that’s what I feel!”

“Marten, losing your head is not going to solve anything.” Lee held his hands up to indicate an attempt to try and come to a peaceful resolution. He was also going to be ready just incase Marten charged at him. “We are in this together. We have to stay calm. If we make a wrong move, we could die.”

“We should have left when we had the chance… you should have told Runt and Tom the whole truth about your family! You should have told them that we were going to make a deal with the mafia! Oh, man, we are in deep!” He looked down at his suit and gripped his coat. He was absolutely disgusted. “Do you know how deep we are in this, Lee?” His voice was fluctuating. “We are screwed!”

“It will be all right, Marten,” said Lee. “Just calm down.”

Marten started to advance on Lee. His eyes were mean and penetrating. “I’ll calm down when you’re dead. You ruined everything for us. How are we supposed to get to the island now? We should have waited!”

“My uncle Tash is taking us now!” said Lee with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Marten stopped. His face flushed and his lip started to twitch. To Lee it looked like he had snapped like a twig. He had never really seen anyone go crazy before. He had never really seen the process either, but Marten was showing all the signs. He was crumbling like a hot cookie.

“What!” yelled Marten. “Your uncle Tash is going to do what?!”

Lee bolted for the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Marten ran over to the door and threw his whole body against the paneling. He was flailing wildly. His mind was in a rut. The door made a loud boom with each hit it took.

“Calm down, Marten!” yelled Lee through the door. “Calm down!”

Marten ignored his pleading. He kept ramming the door with his body. “Come out of there, you coward! Come out and face me like a man!” He was going to charge the door again when a hand landed on his shoulder and whirled him around quickly. Marten was now facing a very big man with aviator sunglasses.

“What is going on in here?” His voice was stern and rigid.

“He’s trying to kill me!” yelled Lee through the door.

Marten shot a glare over to the paneling.

 “Lee, you just wait until I tell Runt about what you have done. He is going to kill you!” He pulled away from the bodyguards grip and stepped back. His face was tense.

“Dinner is ready,” said Kaplen. “I will show you two to the dining hall.”

“I am not coming out of here!” yelled Lee. “Not with Marten out there!”

Kaplen walked over to the door and gripped the knob. He spoke softly but firmly. “If you do not open this door, I’ll break it down and come in there.” His voice got deeper and more sinister. “And, believe me, you don’t want me to come in there. I could do far worse than what Marten can do to you!”

There was a pause, and then the door knob started to jiggle. Lee opened the door and stepped out. He looked back and forth between the two men. Marten looked like he was going to pop.

“Now, if you two are done fighting with each other, we can go eat.” He turned and started for the door. “Follow me and stay close.”

Marten and Lee followed the bodyguard, their emotions cooling slightly.

“This isn’t over, Lee,” whispered Marten. “When we get out of this mess you’re in a lot of trouble. I’ll have you fired!”

 Lee frowned. He knew Marten’s words were true. This whole incident would cost him his job… and maybe his life.