AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Do you feel it? Can you feel the history here?” My heart raced, and for some reason tears itched the back of my eyes as I stood beside Reid in the massive foyer.
“I can see it, but I don’t think I feel it like you do. You gonna be, ok?” He squeezed my hand, and I sniffled my noise, regaining my composure. The heart of this home beats strong, it’s loud and resilient, but it beats to a broken tune. So much has happened behind these walls. How can a place of such beauty hold such heartbreak?
“I’m good, the smoke’s just getting to me, that’s all.” I smiled, and Reid nodded, not pushing me to explain further.
“So, I thought design was your thing, but it’s the history, isn’t it?” He questioned me as we walked further into the house together, shifting the subject.
There were no lights on, but the large antebellum plantation windows that lined the front of the house brought in ample sunlight, illuminating each room as we went.
“Both, really. I started out with the drawing actually. There’s just something about watching the ink as it comes to life on paper. As a young girl, I would sit up in my room for hours just drawing, adventuring into the recesses of my imagination. It was my escape from the real world, one that I found I needed desperately.” He glanced at the pad of paper I held in my opposite hand.
“It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I became obsessed with history. Funny story actually, I went to an all-girls private school, and most of the professors were crotchety old women. They were all absolutely dreadful, but my sophomore year of high school the school got a wild hair and hired a male professor to teach history.
Doctor Matthew Henderson, he was dreamy. It was quite literally a race to see who could get signed up for his class first. I might have been crushing, but I didn’t fall in love with Matt. No, instead he helped me to discover that history wasn’t just in books, it was something that you could live and breathe. History was something to be respected. It was then that I decided there might be a way for me to combine my love for drawing with my newfound love for history. I could have both and have a successful career doing something that I loved.” We stopped inside of a large dining room that housed a table for fifteen. Glass china sat at each place setting, all covered in dark gray soot. I ran my finger over the edge of one of the plates, wiping away the grime to reveal the pristine bone of the delicate porcelain.
“Truly, Holly, that’s a beautiful story, but I don’t know, for some reason I want to go find Doctor Matt and kick his ass...then maybe shoot him in the foot.” The tone of Reid’s voice made me laugh out loud, and the sound echoed off of the walls in the expansive room.
“Down boy, Professor Matt was and still is very happily married to his husband of thirty years, William. Matt was a huge help to me when I was completing my dissertation during my graduate program in New York. I still call him from time to time and bounce ideas off of him or ask questions about a particular restoration.” As we continued through the butler’s pantry that connected the dining area to the kitchen, the signs of the fire damage became more evident. As we neared the kitchen it was easy to see where the fire originated.
“It’s interesting that the reports from the arson investigation stated that they were unable to find a cause for the fire. You wouldn’t expect for a fire in a home that has reportedly been abandoned for centuries to originate in the kitchen of all places.” Reid stopped us just inside the entrance to what was once the kitchen of the plantation home. Everything in the room had varying degrees of char and burn. It was abundantly evident that the entire kitchen would have to be pulled out and rebuilt to the best of my ability based on historical timelines, everything in here is unusable.
“Now you sound like a claims adjuster. Just remember, the arson investigation is closed. We have to go by the report, regardless of what we think we know.” I raised an eyebrow in his direction.
“Just making an observation.” He smiled and squeezed my hand lightly, slowly walking us further into the destroyed kitchen.
“What’s that over there?” I pointed to an entryway that sat just off from the kitchen.
“I’m not sure, but we’re exploring, so we may as well check it out. It looks darker in there, fewer windows. Are you up for it?” Reid asked as if he were trying to taunt me, but I’m not scared. So far, although massive, this house hasn’t been much different than any other renovation I’ve performed in the past.
“Shut up, ghostbuster.” I pulled us forward, careful to watch for weak spots in the floor from the fire damage until we crossed into a dark hallway. Reid and I stumbled through the darkness until the room opened up into a library.
Hundreds of books lined wooden bookshelves that spanned the expanse of two walls of the room. A large portrait hung on another wall of a man that on instant I knew was Hubert Anderson himself. Bile rose in my throat as I considered the evil that man was capable of. Just standing in a space that I know he once considered his made the tiny hairs on my neck stand to attention.
Reid released my hand and walked along the bookshelves, running his fingers over each and every spine.
“What are you doing?” I eyed him curiously.
“Looking for something.” He answered, distracted by his search.
“I didn’t realize you were so into the classics.” I watched on as Reid continued his exploration of the bookshelves until he stopped abruptly.
“Holly, come stand over here beside me for a minute.” Reid demanded, the tone of his voice taking me by surprise.
“Stop being weird.” I gave him my best side eye as I glanced around the room looking for signs of danger that I might have initially overlooked.
“Suit yourself.” Reid pulled out a book, and the framed portrait of Hubert Anderson swung open from the wall sending my heart into a tailspin.
Reid smiled arrogantly as I sprinted to his side at the bookshelf not feeling as brave as I did just minutes ago.
My breathing came out erratically as I looked at Reid with shocked eyes. “What the hell was that?”
“Welcome to the magic show. Let’s see what’s behind door number one.” Reid smiled as I scowled. There is a time for joking and standing in the middle of a library that was once inhabited by the creepiest of all creepy men while portraits swing off the wall mysteriously is not the time to for it.
“What? Were you deprived of movies as a child? You have to realize all haunted houses have secret passages and all secret passages, originate from the library with a book. It’s a thing.” I followed behind Reid and observed as he finished opening the door that was behind the portrait and revealed some sort of lever mechanism.
“Fine, smarty pants. Tell me then, what does the lever do? Is the floor going to open up? Is a giant concrete ball going to start chasing us through the halls like Indiana Jones?” I asked as Reid studied the lever.
“Only one way to find out.”
