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Authors: Kendall Talbot
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wasnât too fond of that smell after spending months trapped on a deserted island with a couple of crazy twin brothers, although that time of his life already seemed like a lifetime ago.
Once again the road veered inland, and scraggy bush that had battled the brutal ocean breezes lined the bitumen at drastic angles. A road appeared on his right, and the second he passed it, he knew it was the one. He didnât know how he knew; he just did.
After locating a place to turn, he headed back to the road and veered left into it. Disfigured trees lined the first part of the road, but that soon changed to spindly grass and ragged weeds. Within seconds, Nox spied a large terracotta rooftop and knew heâd arrived.
The building was impressive. A large stone castle, dominating the ocean point had it situated like a fortress. A vine that had threatened to take over the lower half of the building had long ago died. Now it resembled jagged black veins creeping all over the stone walls.
Holes puncturing the brick walls had once been windows, though their black bars remained. The dilapidated condition of the old building was a welcome sight, because it meant nobody had moved in since the children and paedophiles had been shipped out. However, it didnât stop the deep and bitter loneliness Nox had suffered as a child threatening to well up in him.
Nox shoved the untimely feelings aside as he curved around the crumbling four-tiered concrete fountain and pulled the car right up to the front steps. It was impossible to hide the car anywhere else. His only hope was that nobody would come wandering this way.
The wind caught his hair and whipped it around his face as he stepped out of the car. He pulled it back from his eyes and held it there as he shut the car door and stepped on the mouldy concrete steps that curved up to the front door. He was halfway up the stairs before the wind settled enough to let his hair go.
Nox took a moment to take in the building. Three large arched windows had once been an impressive architectural feature of the grand design, but the only glass that remained was at the very top of the arch. The vine heâd noticed from afar was covered in sharp thorns that stuck out like little razor blades all over the twigs.
Some of the upper-floor windows had the remains of shutters. Two of them dangled precariously and threatened to drop off at any moment.
Nox stepped up to the front door. Someone had put a padlock on it but the metal bolt it was attached to had long ago fallen off and dangled below the lock. Nox pushed on the double doors, and the left one creaked open.
He stepped into the vast foyer. Bricks of foreboding stacked in his stomach as long-forgotten memories flooded back.
He had been a small child when one of the sisters had dragged him by the ear to this once-grand foyer and made him stand with his hands at his sides as she explained that this very spot was where his parents had abandoned him.
He couldnât remember the sisterâs name, but he could remember the blue veins popping out all over her hands after sheâd slapped him across the face. Apparently his parents hadnât so much as wrapped him in a blanket before theyâd placed him in the cardboard box. Theyâd probably thought heâd have a wonderful life in the beautiful stone building overlooking the picturesque ocean setting.
He hadnât.
The entrance floor was covered in so many dried leaves, splinters of wood, and peeling paint and plaster that it was impossible to make out the black, white and red mosaic tile pattern he knew was there. As he stepped over the debris, he had the strange feeling he was coming home.
He was surprised the place wasnât covered in graffiti. Maybe it was haunted? The thought made Nox chuckle. He didnât believe in ghosts. If he did, heâd have a hell of a time sleeping at night given the number of lives heâd extinguished with his own hands.
A set of
Once again the road veered inland, and scraggy bush that had battled the brutal ocean breezes lined the bitumen at drastic angles. A road appeared on his right, and the second he passed it, he knew it was the one. He didnât know how he knew; he just did.
After locating a place to turn, he headed back to the road and veered left into it. Disfigured trees lined the first part of the road, but that soon changed to spindly grass and ragged weeds. Within seconds, Nox spied a large terracotta rooftop and knew heâd arrived.
The building was impressive. A large stone castle, dominating the ocean point had it situated like a fortress. A vine that had threatened to take over the lower half of the building had long ago died. Now it resembled jagged black veins creeping all over the stone walls.
Holes puncturing the brick walls had once been windows, though their black bars remained. The dilapidated condition of the old building was a welcome sight, because it meant nobody had moved in since the children and paedophiles had been shipped out. However, it didnât stop the deep and bitter loneliness Nox had suffered as a child threatening to well up in him.
Nox shoved the untimely feelings aside as he curved around the crumbling four-tiered concrete fountain and pulled the car right up to the front steps. It was impossible to hide the car anywhere else. His only hope was that nobody would come wandering this way.
The wind caught his hair and whipped it around his face as he stepped out of the car. He pulled it back from his eyes and held it there as he shut the car door and stepped on the mouldy concrete steps that curved up to the front door. He was halfway up the stairs before the wind settled enough to let his hair go.
Nox took a moment to take in the building. Three large arched windows had once been an impressive architectural feature of the grand design, but the only glass that remained was at the very top of the arch. The vine heâd noticed from afar was covered in sharp thorns that stuck out like little razor blades all over the twigs.
Some of the upper-floor windows had the remains of shutters. Two of them dangled precariously and threatened to drop off at any moment.
Nox stepped up to the front door. Someone had put a padlock on it but the metal bolt it was attached to had long ago fallen off and dangled below the lock. Nox pushed on the double doors, and the left one creaked open.
He stepped into the vast foyer. Bricks of foreboding stacked in his stomach as long-forgotten memories flooded back.
He had been a small child when one of the sisters had dragged him by the ear to this once-grand foyer and made him stand with his hands at his sides as she explained that this very spot was where his parents had abandoned him.
He couldnât remember the sisterâs name, but he could remember the blue veins popping out all over her hands after sheâd slapped him across the face. Apparently his parents hadnât so much as wrapped him in a blanket before theyâd placed him in the cardboard box. Theyâd probably thought heâd have a wonderful life in the beautiful stone building overlooking the picturesque ocean setting.
He hadnât.
The entrance floor was covered in so many dried leaves, splinters of wood, and peeling paint and plaster that it was impossible to make out the black, white and red mosaic tile pattern he knew was there. As he stepped over the debris, he had the strange feeling he was coming home.
He was surprised the place wasnât covered in graffiti. Maybe it was haunted? The thought made Nox chuckle. He didnât believe in ghosts. If he did, heâd have a hell of a time sleeping at night given the number of lives heâd extinguished with his own hands.
A set of
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