needed some time to check everything out for
myself first. He was my father, and if there are any clues as to
where he is, I want to find them first.
Perhaps it’s childish, but I need it.
I scan through every single book, checking
to see if there are any unmarked spines that could perhaps be a
journal or notebook. But everything is carefully labeled, all
professional and with a specific topic. I pull random books from
the shelf, leafing through the pages, hoping that maybe I’ll find
notes in the margins, something to indicate what Henry was working
on down here, but there’s nothing. Every page looks undisturbed,
not even a wrinkle. But the well-worn spines tell me he at least
read them all. Maybe even multiple times.
I think maybe I’ve learned something new
about Henry. Everything is so perfectly organized. So meticulously
clean. In it’s order and place. It’s all a little…obsessive
compulsive.
“ What were you doing down
here, Henry?” I breathe to myself. I settle into a chair, a tall
one that sits at counter height, and tuck my knees into my chest.
My eyes scan everything, over and over. But I just can’t quite seem
to make any sense of it.
Vampirism was born of science and curses.
Cyrus, even though he did what he did thousands of years ago, was
obsessed with science and immortality. He may not have had a lab,
but what once might have been looked at as witchcraft back then
could be explained by science today.
Henry is doing some kind of science down
here. I want to know what.
There is a photograph of me that draws my
attention and I cross the space to pick it up off a shelf before
returning to my seat.
I find it’s not just a frame, it’s actually
a photo album. It isn’t long, just a slender binding holding them
together, but it houses about a dozen pictures.
My prom picture. My graduation picture. My
twenty-first birthday party. Me working at my old bakery.
And one where I’m about to board a plane.
The one I took from Colorado to Silent Bend, before I knew
anything.
“ You’re alive,” I breathe.
An hour at a time, I’m slowly coming to accept the fact. No one can
quite prove it one way or the other, but I just feel it in my gut.
He’s alive.
Maybe that’s why my desire to get to know
him was so strong. Because somehow, I just knew that I’d be getting
the chance eventually.
“ Why have you been hiding?”
I whisper into the lab.
I stand, setting the picture frame back on
the shelf, when I bump into it. And it shifts just slightly, in a
way that doesn’t line up with the wall.
I feel around the edge of the shelf, right
where it meets the wall, and find just a small crack in the surface
there. My fingers continue to follow it downward. It runs from the
floor to about six feet off the ground.
Smiling to myself, I start pressing, feeling
for the release. And just a moment later, it clicks, popping back
out at me, releasing the door.
Of course there’s a hidden door. It’s the
Conrath Estate. I’m sure I’ll never discover all its hidden
features and passages.
I pull the hidden doorway toward myself and
am instantly clouded with the scent of dirt and moisture. My eyes
take a moment to adjust.
Darkness lies behind the door, but as I step
through it, I find myself in a dark tunnel. The passageway is
narrow, only slightly wider than my body. I’m sure it was difficult
for Henry to fit through it. I squeeze between dirt walls, smelling
the moisture attempting to seep up through the ground. I walk about
a dozen feet before I squeeze through the narrowest part of the
passage yet, before suddenly breaking out into a wider tunnel.
A familiar one.
Wooden beams support the passageway, and I’m
on level ground. I look down one way, toward where I know it
eventually lets out to a hidden door at the edge of the property,
and the other way, which connects back into my house, to a doorway
directly into my room.
“ You sneaky bastard,” I say
with a smile on my face.
Of course
myself first. He was my father, and if there are any clues as to
where he is, I want to find them first.
Perhaps it’s childish, but I need it.
I scan through every single book, checking
to see if there are any unmarked spines that could perhaps be a
journal or notebook. But everything is carefully labeled, all
professional and with a specific topic. I pull random books from
the shelf, leafing through the pages, hoping that maybe I’ll find
notes in the margins, something to indicate what Henry was working
on down here, but there’s nothing. Every page looks undisturbed,
not even a wrinkle. But the well-worn spines tell me he at least
read them all. Maybe even multiple times.
I think maybe I’ve learned something new
about Henry. Everything is so perfectly organized. So meticulously
clean. In it’s order and place. It’s all a little…obsessive
compulsive.
“ What were you doing down
here, Henry?” I breathe to myself. I settle into a chair, a tall
one that sits at counter height, and tuck my knees into my chest.
My eyes scan everything, over and over. But I just can’t quite seem
to make any sense of it.
Vampirism was born of science and curses.
Cyrus, even though he did what he did thousands of years ago, was
obsessed with science and immortality. He may not have had a lab,
but what once might have been looked at as witchcraft back then
could be explained by science today.
Henry is doing some kind of science down
here. I want to know what.
There is a photograph of me that draws my
attention and I cross the space to pick it up off a shelf before
returning to my seat.
I find it’s not just a frame, it’s actually
a photo album. It isn’t long, just a slender binding holding them
together, but it houses about a dozen pictures.
My prom picture. My graduation picture. My
twenty-first birthday party. Me working at my old bakery.
And one where I’m about to board a plane.
The one I took from Colorado to Silent Bend, before I knew
anything.
“ You’re alive,” I breathe.
An hour at a time, I’m slowly coming to accept the fact. No one can
quite prove it one way or the other, but I just feel it in my gut.
He’s alive.
Maybe that’s why my desire to get to know
him was so strong. Because somehow, I just knew that I’d be getting
the chance eventually.
“ Why have you been hiding?”
I whisper into the lab.
I stand, setting the picture frame back on
the shelf, when I bump into it. And it shifts just slightly, in a
way that doesn’t line up with the wall.
I feel around the edge of the shelf, right
where it meets the wall, and find just a small crack in the surface
there. My fingers continue to follow it downward. It runs from the
floor to about six feet off the ground.
Smiling to myself, I start pressing, feeling
for the release. And just a moment later, it clicks, popping back
out at me, releasing the door.
Of course there’s a hidden door. It’s the
Conrath Estate. I’m sure I’ll never discover all its hidden
features and passages.
I pull the hidden doorway toward myself and
am instantly clouded with the scent of dirt and moisture. My eyes
take a moment to adjust.
Darkness lies behind the door, but as I step
through it, I find myself in a dark tunnel. The passageway is
narrow, only slightly wider than my body. I’m sure it was difficult
for Henry to fit through it. I squeeze between dirt walls, smelling
the moisture attempting to seep up through the ground. I walk about
a dozen feet before I squeeze through the narrowest part of the
passage yet, before suddenly breaking out into a wider tunnel.
A familiar one.
Wooden beams support the passageway, and I’m
on level ground. I look down one way, toward where I know it
eventually lets out to a hidden door at the edge of the property,
and the other way, which connects back into my house, to a doorway
directly into my room.
“ You sneaky bastard,” I say
with a smile on my face.
Of course
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