Planet Chimera (3 page)

Taking a few steps in front me, my hands out
of my pockets, I took notice of the amazing library inside the
mansion. Thousands of the thick, ancient books were shelved neatly
in the next compartment of the large mansion, the carpet on the
floor ending at the edge of the library.

“Oh, so you like books, too?” the owner
asked, turning his attention towards me, something moving behind
his robes. “Who is your favorite author?”

“I like the work of Neal Collener, not sure
if you have heard of him, but he was a fine author back in the
day,” I responded, taking notice of everything around me, in case a
situation I didn’t like arose, forcing me to take drastic action.
“He was the inspiration for the advancements of the chimera and
cyborg revolution.”

“Of course, he was,” he laughed, patting me
on the right shoulder, as he led us through the library. “He is one
of my favorite authors as well, but I have always been a fan of
Morbide Fancy, a splendid fellow indeed.”

Suddenly, a long, bushy tail sprouted from
underneath his robes, reaching out into the air, and grabbing a
book that was shelved on the wall. It curled down, handing the book
to the owner, as he took it with his hands. He turned around,
acting as if nothing had happened, opening the book to the first
chapter, and grinned at me.

“I have the first book Neal ever published
and autographed, isn’t that amazing?” he boasted, the smile on his
face starting to infuriate me, his eyes a bit teary.

“Why, yes, sir, I can only imagine the
excitement you have for such a rare find,” I lied, growing weary of
this small talk.

“If it pleases you, Baron Smith, I will be
taking my leave now,” the mayor interrupted, shaking the owner’s
hand, before turning around to shake my hand. “I leave this young
man in your capable hands, and hopefully, we can all meet tomorrow
to chat over a cup of almond tea.”

“Tomorrow, then, old friend,” Baron Smith
said, nodding with respect, as he watched the mayor dawdle away,
his cane tucked underneath his right armpit.

Turning my head around, sniffing something
pleasant, I noticed that the butler had disappeared without notice,
leaving me alone with the egotistical Baron. Soft winds howled
outside, the window on the left wall covered halfway with snow, as
the silence around me was maddening. For such a big house, it was
awfully too quiet; everything in this manor was sort of
inexplicable for me.

“You must be tired from your long journey,
child,” he continued, placing the book on the large, wooden table,
next to a contraption with moving gears. “You can go and leave your
belongings in your quarters and I will send my butler to your room
with some tasty pastries, if you like.”

“Thank you, Baron,” I smiled, taking another
bow in respect, before turning around to walk away. “I am very
tired from my long journey, and I haven’t slept for a while. I bid
thee good night, and I will see you at the crack of dawn.”

“Tomorrow, then,” he added, proceeding to
sit down, as he took a smoking pipe and placed on his lips.

2

I left the library, sighing in a lazy
manner, walking back to the living room, towards the stairs leading
up to the second floor. An eerie echo lingered in the corners of
the mansion, the feeling as if I was being watched increasing, as
the butler emerged from thin air next to me. If I had a faint
heart, or any signs of cowardice within me, I would have shrieked
like a little girl, but I didn’t. Was he a ghost or some other sort
of apparition?

“This way, sir,” he muttered in a cold
voice, walking in front of me like a wind up soldier. “I shall show
you to your quarters.”

“Tell me something, butler, am I the only
guest residing in this manor, aside from the owner, the child, and
yourself?” I asked, noticing the hidden knife in his left pocket
bulging out.

“No, sir, you are not,” he replied, walking
up the stairs, a few inches from me, his movements a bit stiff.
“The other guests have already eaten their dinner, and are now
tucked in their rooms, probably, sleeping.”

“Good to know,” I finished, unsatisfied with
his plain responses, my mind riled up with anger.

Too much time had been wasted talking to
these buffoons; if I had just gone along with my first plan, I
could have stolen one of their ships, and have been safely on my
way towards my rendezvous point. But I still had a few days to be
there, so I was okay for the moment.

“There is no leaving, once you are inside
the town, there is no leaving,” a small voice chanted through a
small door opening, on the right side of the second story floor.
“Once you are here, they will come for you.”

“Enough with your nonsense, away with you,”
the butler shouted, closing the door from the outside. “Can’t you
see that we have guest, you foolish child?”

“What did he mean by that?” I asked,
impatiently, growing tired of being yo-yoed around by these town
folks.

“Oh, don’t mind him, sir, it’s just child
nonsense, nothing more than that,” he replied, not looking me in
the eye, as he started walking forward, towards my assigned
room.

My irascibility with his inexcusable actions
was thankfully masked by an unexpected scream from another room, on
the right, a few yards away from me. The butler, to my amazement,
ignored this noise of distress, continuing further towards my room.
He stopped by the last room on the right, reaching into his right
pocket and pulling out a silver key, as he opened it for me.
Looking at me, his eyes cold and lifeless, he bowed his head, his
hand gesturing me to enter. Despite his intolerable manner, he was
a very courteous and respectful; I think I was going to spare his
life, after all.

“Anything else you want, sir,” he asked
bluntly, his gloved hand placed on the golden knob, a stern look on
his clean, shaved face.

“No, that will be all, butler,” I responded,
removing my brown fur coat, and placing it on the bed. “I shall
take my rest now.”

He nodded, blinking, a faint smile on his
face, as he closed the door, and left me in the peace of my
quarters. The room was small, one quarter the size of the living
room, with dark, grey walls, a mounted oil lamb on each wall. My
word, these people really were living a few centuries in the past,
a thing that annoyed me deeply. I was so used to technology that I
found it a bit difficult to adjust to these new developments.
Sighing, I scratched my head, facing a wooden table on my left:
three old books on top of it, a feathery pen with a jar of ink
beside it, and a few scrolls mounted on a shelf above the table. A
bed, with flowery duvet covers lay next to the wall with the
window; it was a king size bed, with five fluffy pillows, and a
copper bed warmer placed on top of the covers. The floor was not
carpeted, it was made of a marble like substance, and it absorbed
every noise I made with my feet. I walked over to the window,
peering through the part of the glass that was not covered in snow,
hoping to catch a glimpse of anything that could incite
concern.

The moon shined greatly,
the snow piling heavily onto the ground, and the powerful blizzard
progressing in an unnatural way. Nothing about any of this made any
sense to me. What sort of madness was causing this bad anomaly? I
expect, by the time dawn approached, this whole terrain would be
buried in ten or more inches of snow, forcing everyone to stay
inside for several weeks to come.
No, I
can’t comply with that
, I thought,
I have a mission to complete.

Sitting on the bed, my hands placed on the
duvet covers, I forced my boots off my feet, my mind filled with
anxiety. I was definitely stuck on this planet, meaning……….my
primary mission had to be aborted. I heard another scream from the
room next to me, causing me shift up to my feet. Something
suspicious was happening inside this manor. I prowled silently to
the wall, placing my left ear against the wall, to hear what was
happening on the other side. Two voices, from my what I could make
up, were whispering something to each other, and there was also a
scratching noise on the opposite side of the wall.

“What’s the point?” I shrugged, stoically,
felling my body onto the bed.

It was about ten p.m. in the evening, two
hours before midnight, according to the old clock on top of the
door. I unveiled the duvet covers and shoved my body inside it,
trying to get some sleep before this night took a very dark turn. I
closed my eyes, but I never was able to sleep peacefully—all of my
dreams were nothing short of horrific nightmares, since the moment
I acquired my immortality. At first, sleeping disturbed me greatly,
but l learned to cope with the madness swirling inside my head, and
was able to faintly sleep through them.

“I hope I survive this treacherous night,” I
whispered, closing my eyes, breathing softly.

3

At midnight, the clock tinged with a faint
bell sound, the room dark and cold. I opened my eyes, the eerie
echo looming throughout the walls, as I dressed back into my
borrowed clothes. By now, everyone should have been asleep—the
corridors should be empty. I prowled to the door, attempting to
open it from the inside, but as I expected, it was locked from the
outside. They were specifically clear about not letting anyone
wander around the corridors at night. And without my tools of the
trade, there was no way I was going to pick the lock and open the
door.

I turned around and strolled over to the
window, testing the metal hinges for weakness, hoping to use it as
a point of exit. I placed my weight against the window, putting
pressure against the hinges, as I forced it ajar. Strong winds blew
into the room, a heavy shower of snowflakes falling over my bed,
the cold air numbing my face. Covering my head with a hood, a
bandanna on half of my face, I hopped through the window, shutting
it behind me. Balancing my weight over the ledge, tip-toeing over
to the window of the next room, I peeked over to see what was
inside. It was dark inside, the bed next to the window had been
ruffled with, the covers lay on the floor, and the pillows over by
the door. Further, to my astonishment—the window was open, a small
glass crack below the left corner. I opened the window, entered
through it, as I landed on bed, my knees bending inwards. Not too
long ago—two hours ago to be precise—I had heard terrible
screaming, and then two whispering voices. Where could there have
gone?

“What in blazes?” I exclaimed when I almost
fell to the ground, due to some slippery liquid on floor.

Something slippery, something red and thick
in nature was scattered through the floor; I think it was blood. A
great struggle had taken place inside this small suite. The scrolls
had been torn asunder, the shelf leaning crooked to the right, and
what looked like claw marks dug deep into the wooden table. This
was getting too creepy for my explicit taste. I heard movements,
coming from the corridor outside, and I turned around, headed for
the window. But before I could exit, I caught a glimpse of what
looked like an index finger, by the edge of the bed, dried blood
around it. If this was not a sign of force mutilation or murder, I
truly don’t know what was. I left the quarters, exiting through the
window, convinced that I needed to investigate further into this
incident. The blizzard storm, the missing people, my appearance
here—they were somehow connected together, like a jigsaw
puzzle.

I skipped over the tile,
my body tensing, as I made my way to another room, to have another
look through it. If there anymore disappearances, anymore body
parts or messes on the floor, then I would be thoroughly convinced
that something mischievous was happening on this compound. The next
room was a few yards away from me, with barred, panel windows, a
small porch for the guest to sit and look over the horizon.
It must belong to some important
resident
, I thought. Leaping over the
roof, I landed on the porch, making a slight noise with my feet,
but in this weather, my sound would remain concealed. I peered from
the corner into the room, observing one lamb that was lit by the
left side of the door, and the boy from before sitting by the desk,
his head buried in a set of books. The porch door, next to the
window, was heavily secured, so the only way in was to have him
open the door for me, from the inside. My better judgment advised
me against this direct approach, warning me of the dangers this
action could produce. After all, I was supposed to be sleeping in
my bed, locked inside my quarters, until the crack of dawn. I would
have heeded this warning, if this was a different circumstance, but
it was not an ordinary situation. Looking left and then right, I
advanced towards the door, revealing my face, before knocking on
the door. The boy turned around, a look of fear on his face, our
eyes meeting each other. For a second, he froze with terror, his
fingers shaking. He jumped out of his seat, his dark hair jumbled
up, and walked to the door, a look of fear and excitement clouding
his small, freckled face. Opening the door, he took a few steps
back, not screaming, as I entered his room.

“I mean you no harm, child,” I whispered, my
hands anchored above my head, taking slow steps into the room. “I
just need a few questions to be answered, if you don’t mind.”

“You are the new guest, right?” he asked,
the fear that once clutched him gone, returning to his desk.

“Yes, I am just a man passing by,” I
replied, closing the porch door behind me, to stop the cold air
from spreading any further inside his room. “Do you mind if I sit
down?”