The Curse of Magic Mansion Ch. 01

Tina blushed and said softly, "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it," d'X said. "I believe you will find this library adequately stocked."

"This library?" Tina said. "You have more than one?."

D'X simply smiled a pencil thin smile and opened the next door. Dan looked in, and shrugged. A small, simple bed lay in the corner, a squarish chest at its foot. Aside from a bedside table and a dresser with a mirror, the room was devoid of furniture, its only other distinguishing characteristic being a small stone hearth on the wall opposite the door, a small stack of logs next to it. "Sure. Why not?" he said, studying d'X, who simply clicked his fingers and gestured to a servant.

"Absolutely," said their host, beckoning her forth. "Please, mademoiselle." She stepped up to the room. Boxy furniture adorned the corners, and a perfectly circular rug sat in the middle, its edges perfectly tangent to the walls. At the far end of the circle sat a smart, economical bed. This was definitely her parents' style. Her father placed a hand on her shoulder and peered around and in. Stepping in, he looked around and nodded, running his fingertips across the top of a dresser.

"Impressive that you seem to have rooms perfectly suited to each of us," Dan said. "I mean, what're the odds?"

The magister simply laughed. "Indeed! They are quite slim. These are my elemental rooms. The four classical elements. Air: simple, light, and yet not entirely symmetrical. Always in motion," he said gesturing to the room their parents had chosen. "Water and fire," he motioned across the hall. "Knowledge: dynamic, fluid, suits whatever container it fills, but not without weight. Passion: fire, action, heat, life, entropy." He motioned again to Dan's room. "Earth: solid, slow to change, unforgiving, but not malicious. The rocks and the trees, but the wolves, bears and spiders, too."

"Mister d'X," she said, stepping into the room and turning, the suits of armor making her look insignificant. The magister turned back toward her, apparently not expecting a reprise. "Entropy?"

"A force to which most of us are subject," he said, flicking his wrist wistfully as a servant slid past, depositing her and her sister's belongings at the foot of the onyx bed. And then d'X turned to her family. "Please make yourselves at home. Dinner will be announced, but drinks and conversation will commence one hour from now. That is," he interrupted himself, bowing slightly to their parents, "if our ways are permissible."

Howard and Donna eyed each other, and Donna covered her mouth to disguise an embarrassed blush. "Well," their mother said. "I... I suppose it would be rude to decline such gracious hospitality. But," she said to Dan, Tina and Jane, "tomorrow is a busy day, and I'm not taking any guff from anyone who all of a sudden doesn't feel well. Get my drift?" Her eyebrows raised, and Dan rolled his eyes.

Tina's face scrunched into curiosity. "Wait, so we're allowed to drink?"

"One glass of wine," their father said, "with dinner." Tina's face brightened. Howard and Donna turned toward their own room, not even giving Jane a second look. D'X instead bowed silently and turned, consulting silently with a servant as they disappeared around the corner.

When they were alone, a circle of violet fire formed around each of the siblings. "What the—" Jane started, but just then, each of them lit up in a starburst of violet sparks. The rings of flames were gone.

"Oh my god," Tina said. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. This isn't happening."

"What isn't?" Dan said.

"Yeah," Jane added. "What the hell, Tina?"

Tina paled, and then stammered, "Uh ... I think ... ok this is going to sound crazy, but I think we just leveled up."

"We did what?" Jane said.

"Leveled up," her brother repeated. "Like in role-role playing games."

"Like sexy nurse?" Jane wrinkled her nose.

"No!" Tina said. "What? Where do you learn that kind of stuff?"

"Like D&D," Dan said.

"Like giant spiders?" Jane said, her lower eyelid twitching.

"The same," Dan said.

"Hold on," Jane said, shaking her head. "That's bullshit. That'd mean we're not real. Right, guys? I'm real. You guys are real. We're not in someone's weird game." No answer. "Guys?"

"No," Tina said. "No, we're real. You're right. Remember: magic. I think I ... oh, god, I think this is my fault. I was thinking about the game Leroy hosted last weekend. I mean, when we were coming down here, it was my way of keeping my mind. D'X must have read me."

Jane laughed, turned on her heel, and went into their room. Dan stayed, however. "I believe you," he said. "At least, I believe you're certain. At this point, I'm ready to admit that magic is real. Let's just take it step by step, nice and easy, ok?"

"Ok," Tina said.

"I left my knife in my bag, so if they took that, no biggie," he said. "But I have my tools on me." His tools, Tina knew, were code for his lock picking set. He'd ordered it online, ruined the lock to the shed, much to their father's chagrin, but had quickly become an expert. Now nothing in the house was a secret. She only had to pray that he had the respect not to pick the lock to her diary.

"Be careful," she said. "Remember: magic."

He gave her a wink and turned. She, too, retreated to her room and shut the door.

Finding her self alone with her sister, Tina shut the door to their chambers and joined her sister by the fire. In Dan's room, wood had been stacked by the hearth, but here nothing seemed to fuel the fire except itself. Still, it was warm, and the forest gave off an unusual chill.

Jane kicked off her shoes and turned toward the bed, which, she noticed for the first time, was not just onyx-black, but seemed to suck the light from the room. The ornate headboard had a figure or scene chiseled into it, but the material reflected no light, so she couldn't make out the details. She reached out and felt it was warm on contact, but radiated no heat. More puzzling still was the electrical buzzing she felt against and through her skin. Perplexed, she pulled back and regarded her hands. They remained the same as they had always been.

But the electric feeling remained, slowly at first, but increasing in intensity—an itch under the skin, under the muscle, under the bone. But, she asked herself, there's nothing under the bone, is there? She began to feel heat. "Oh, right," she said thought to herself, trying to calm her nerves. The hearth glowed like a pulsing heart. "Fire." She made a note to ask d'X how to turn the heat down in her room. In the meantime, she shed her sweatshirt and leaned back on the bed for a second. Eventually, the itch returned, as did the heat, but this time, it was deeper, more urgent. She felt a slight tingle between her legs, and drew a quick breath. Sex. Of course. Fire, passion, life, sex. Her eyes darted to her sister, but to Jane's relief the older girl was otherwise occupied. With a frustrated sigh, she went back to the fire. Even if it was too warm in the room, she doubted the fire would send her into heat.

Hardly a heartbeat had passed from the time the door closed behind Tina to her assault on the bookcases. Where to start was the only question, so she chose a ladder at random, climbed to the top and began perusing the library. The titles on the leather spines were none she had ever heard of, and many appeared to be in languages she didn't understand—and a few she didn't know even existed. Eventually, she came to one with a title she could understand. "On the Essence of Soul Apparatuses," she read aloud, drawing an odd look from her sister. Well, no one had accused the place or its owner of being normal. No author was listed, so she gently pulled the book from its space on the shelf and regarded the cover: simple green leather with silver lettering, well worn by time, but in remarkably good shape nonetheless. Still, there was no author name, so she opened to the first page. The instant the cover parted from the paper, an icy chill filled her bones. She shivered, but continued searching for an author, publication date, or any piece of information that might give her a clue as to the origin of the tome. Before long, the cold became unbearable, and Tina climbed down from the ladder and trotted over to sit by the fire.

"Ahhh..." Tina said, leaning back on the carpet. "Much better."

"Holy crap!" Jane said, hugging herself. "What the hell is that thing?"

"Huh? Oh, a book from the shelf. It started to get chilly in here, so I thought..."

"It's the book!" Jane said, and then stopped. "Have you forgotten already?"

"Forgotten...?"

"Haunted castle, giant spiders, magical forgetfulness? That chill, it's the book!"

"Oh!" Tina clapped the book closed. "Oh, my!" And then, "So this guy is a wizard?"

"Let's go ask him," Jane said. "We'll go right up and say, 'Monsieur Whatsyername, are you planning on turning us into toads or whatnot?' And then we'll know, right? Because anyone who's planning on turning you into a toad—I mean, someone like that wouldn't lie to you."

"Listen," Tina said, ignoring her sister's manic ranting. "Maybe Monsieur d'X is going to do something evil, or maybe he's not. If he is, don't let him know that you know. And if he isn't, then just relax and enjoy the creepy ambience. I just wanted to know if you're still, you know, not like our parents."

Tina saw her sister pause, and as if a veil had lifted, the girl stopped fidgeting, bit her lip and stood. Jane said, "Sorry. It itches. I think I just need to get some air."

"Wait. What—" but Jane was gone out the door. 'It itches'? Tina pondered it for a second and then shook her head. Sometimes she just couldn't figure that girl out. Closing the book, she lay back on the carpet and closed her eyes. Did the room just get warmer? She barely noticed because, around her, the carpet seemed to give under her weight, sliding away until she had almost sunk in and away.

Abruptly, she sat up. Looking down at the coarse weave, she saw deep blue threads. "Water," she said to herself and lay back again. She pinched the material between her fingers, and it slid smoothly in a way that appealed to her most primal pleasure centers. But then there was an odd feeling against her back, something wet. Reaching back, she discovered that her sweater was soaked through. She squeezed and felt liquid run between her fingers, and heard drops hit the floor. Yet, when she brought her hand before her eyes, it was dry. She turned. No water on the floor or carpet.

She lay back again, reminding herself: magic. As ludicrous as it sounded, she could come up with no scientific explanation, so she let her mind explain the magic in its own terms. Water: fluid, life-giving, graceful, powerful. Grace, she thought, and images of a winding river filled her mind. The soft curves reminded her of her sister's smooth skin, rounding hips, joining with other curves, and tucking away into... places. Tina shook the thought from her mind, but the river remained, and now she watched schools of fish swimming upstream. They were going to breed, the macro image of sperm. Her mind drew back and the river turned to semen, an arc of cum. She may have been a terminal bookworm, but that also meant she'd read about sex—and not just about the biological act. She'd read as much erotica as anything else, some of which had made her deeply uncomfortable, but which had made her come nonetheless. In her mind, she traced the arc of cum to its source, a beautiful thick cock. But when she traced it further, she saw her brother grinning back at her. She sat up, realizing that she had become wet in a very real way. A worried squeaking noise came from deep within her body.

Dan's quarters were quiet for a while. The fire in the hearth was well made, and would require little attention for the time being. He was surprised that his belongings appeared to be untouched. 'Appeared,' of course, was the operative word. Little signs here and there, like a trace of warmth on the handle of his knife, showed that his belongings had been searched—for what he could not guess. A simple carpet made of coiled hemp lay in front of the hearth, and he sat crosslegged in its center and stared into the fire. A door slammed out in the hallway, and he heard the patter of bare feet heading out toward the main section of the chateau. Dan closed his eyes and tried to clear the intruding influence from his head. Whatever it was, he knew it was coming from this place. He knew his sisters knew, too, but it was easy to lose track.

He tried to stand, but nothing happened. He put his hands down, and found that once they touched the floor, they were rooted to it. He closed his eyes. Not real, he told himself. Not real. All in his head. He tried to move again, but again: nothing. He looked down and to his horror saw that his hands hand become part of the hemp carpet, his fingers now dried and woven strands of fiber. He reflexively pulled back, but felt the fibers stretch to their limits. A sick panic flooded his belly, but he pushed it back. Rooted. Earth. What had the man said? Solid, rocks, bears, spiders. Unforgiving, but not malicious. Beastly. Animalistic.

He allowed himself to venture into the untamed wilds of his subconscious. The further he went, the faster he went, until whatever legs carried him had grown fur and claws. What was that smell? Where was he going? Bursting into a clearing he caught sight of cloaked figures. They wore the white gloves of the mansion's servants. The smell, it was them. The beast he had become took chase, and the figures began to run. He was savage, an animal, and he closed the gap swiftly. With a leap, he tackled both. One scrambled to flee, but he caught its cloak and brought it down again. As it fell, the figure rotated, landing on its back, its hood falling from its face. Jane! Why?! But the beast cared not. The smell had been coming from between the girl's legs. Pointed teeth tore away the girl's pants as she screamed.

Dan woke suddenly from his waking nightmare when Tina practically kicked down his door. He jumped, and found that he was no longer one with the rug. For a second, they locked eyes, trying to figure out which of them was more freaked out. "It itches," Tina said, her face taut. Dan felt it, too. Down below the bone, somewhere far beyond the physical, there was a feeling as if his very being were turning to wood and dirt and stone all at once. He took a deep breath and stood.

"I know," he said. "But how does it feel for you?"

Tina regarded him quizzically for a moment. "But Jane..."

"Jane's fine, I'm sure," he said. "First things first."

Tina looked into his grey eyes, constant and steady as always. "It's like I have a little river running under my skin," she said. As he opened his mouth to speak, she added, "And, yeah, I know. I know it's not real, but there's something else. It's—"

"Stop," Dan said.

"I know. This isn't me. I sound like Jane, at least before she stormed out."

"No, I mean just stop," Dan said. "If you were going to say what I think you were, I really don't want to hear it."

Tina turned as red as her sister's hair, and clapped her hands over her eyes. "Oh, god! You too?"

"Just try not to think about it," he said, now wishing he hadn't. His eyes went to his older sister, searching out for curves or valleys on which to settle. Never had he been so glad that Tina wore form-hiding clothing.

For a few minutes, they sat on the floor, not looking at each other. "Look, I—" Tina started.

"No, no," Dan said. "It's okay. I mean, it's not okay-okay, but it's no one's fault. It's this place."

Tina nodded. "Dan, we have to be careful." He nodded, and she added, "Especially with Jane." Dan nodded again, but Tina saw his eyes shift. Whatever had happened in his vision, she got the feeling that Jane had been part of it. Subduing the urge to ask him about it, Tina stood. "Uh, well, maybe we should go make sure that she's safe."

"Definitely!" Dan said, snapping out of his funk. Maybe if he could keep Jane safe, it would cancel out the terror he felt. Tina offered him a hand, and he reached out, but then drew back. "I'll, uh, get up myself. It's okay."

Tina withdrew her hand. "Oh. Right."

———————————————————————

Jane found the sitting room easily, though somehow she knew that she could have walked blindfolded in a straight line and ended up there just as readily. In front of the hearth, which seemed to burn without any conventional fuel, there were four leather chairs the color of dried blood. Two black divans ran against one wall, each flanked by book cases. Unlike the ones in their bed chambers, these books were clearly off limits, locked behind a metal grate that covered the whole of the shelves. A globe of a world she didn't recognize stood next to a giant bear, either stuffed by an expert taxidermist or frozen in time—she couldn't tell. Masked servants stood on either side of the door opposite the one she'd entered. And in spite of the foreboding decor, Jane found the room soothing, smelling softly as it did of chestnuts and roses.

"I am pleased to see that you are making yourself at home." Jane nearly jumped out of her skin. Monsieur d'X had either entered silently or appeared out of thin air—Jane wasn't prepared to rule out either. She eyed him, and saw that his gaze led down to her bare feet, which now shifted upon being observed. The man's lips curled up into what Jane forced herself to interpret as a smile. "Please," he said. "We are so formal around here, but merely by habit. It is refreshing to have a bit of change. I trust your accommodations are pleasing."

"Uh, yeah," Jane said. "They seem to be designed to be pleasing." Whether d'X had picked up on her subtle accusation, she couldn't tell, but his eyes did seem to glow a shade brighter for a moment.

"Would you care for some refreshment?" d'X asked.

"No thanks," she said as politely as she could.

"I assure you," the man said, "the water here is absolutely pure. And if you would care for something a bit stronger, well, that can be our little secret."

Jane hesitated. She hated not being able to tell truths from lies with this man. "Let's just go with water for now," she said.

"Very good," he said, and disappeared as silently as he had appeared. Jane found a chair close to the fire, and found it quite comfortable. Unbeknownst to her, ever since she arrived, she'd been very tense. In this large leather chair, she finally felt her muscles relax. After a minute, a masked servant appeared with a glass of water on a silver tray. He—she assumed it was a he—placed the glass on the small table next to the chair.

"Hey," Jane said. "Can I ask you a question?" The masked figure stood there, unmoving. "Not allowed to speak to the guests, huh?" Still nothing. "Oh, well," Jane said, shrugging. "Thanks, anyway." The figure remained, towering over her. "You can go now, I guess." With that, the servant, bowed slightly, turned and left.

When the servant had gone, Jane lifted the glass and sniffed the liquid. Smelled fine. Tentatively, she tasted it. Fine again. She may have been inexperienced in life, but she knew that in this place, what seemed to be normal probably wasn't. Still, she was thirsty from the day's events, and drank half the glass at once.

Anxiety nagged at her as she waited for something to happen, but nothing did. The absolute silence of the house made the time alone even more unnerving. The servants flanking the exit didn't move. Jane fixed her eyes on them, trying to catch one of them shifting their weight, scratching an itch, or even breathing, but they seemed to require neither comfort nor air. After she had exhausted that activity, her thoughts went to the place. If dinner were being prepared, wouldn't there be noises from a kitchen? Or smells? Again, nothing he could sense from this room betrayed the goings-on within the rooms beyond it. Anxiety turned to fear, and she found herself wanting her siblings with her. It felt so immature to want to run to them for safety, and she told herself to grow up. The longer the insanity-inducing silence went on, the more she began to feel that all her attitude was just to cover the fear and insecurity she felt all the time. She touched her hair and withdrew it as if stung. Why had she done this to herself? The blindingly, primary red had irked her mother, and it had made Jane feel good, but was that the whole of it? Her introspection began to spin out of control, and by the time Dan and Tina strolled through the door, she was nearly ready to tear her hair out.