The Dread bell

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the dense forest, Lysander and Lucy made their way back towards the house. The air had turned crisp, the twilight seeping into the surroundings like a creeping fog. The forest around them seemed to hold its breath, the rustling leaves and distant calls of birds fading into an eerie silence.

Lucy walked close beside Lysander, her usually cheerful demeanor replaced with an uneasy tension. Her eyes darted to and fro, scanning the darkening woods as if she expected something to leap out from the shadows. Lysander couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between her usual vibrant presence and this fearful silence.

As they neared a small clearing, a strange sound pierced through the tranquil night—a deep, rhythmic thrumming that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. It was like a distant bell ringing in a forgotten, ancient language. The sound was unsettling, sending a shiver down Lysander’s spine.

Lucy froze mid-step. Her body tensed, and her eyes widened with a mixture of dread and fear. She stood still, her gaze fixed on a point in the forest that was barely visible in the fading light. Lysander’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched her reaction, the eerie bell sound reverberating through the trees.

“What’s happening?” Lysander’s voice trembled slightly as he broke the heavy silence. His curiosity was piqued, but the fear on Lucy’s face made him nervous.

Lucy’s breath came in quick, shallow bursts. “It’s the Dread bell,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the thrumming. Her fear was palpable, a stark contrast to her usual composed self. “It means something has gone wrong with one of the pillars that seals the estate.”

The mention of the word “seal” sent a jolt of alarm through Lysander. He had only recently learned of the estate's peculiarities, but the gravity in Lucy’s tone was undeniable. “What do you mean? What’s a pillar, and why is it important?”

Lucy’s gaze flickered towards Lysander, her eyes betraying her internal struggle. “The pillars are part of the protective wards that keep... things... out. They’re ancient, magical constructs that my family and I have maintained for generations. If something has gone wrong, it could be dangerous.”

Lysander’s mind raced with the implications of Lucy’s words. The estate, with all its secrets and strange occurrences, had always seemed mysterious, but this was a whole new level. “Then we need to do something, right? If the estate is in danger, we can’t just ignore it.”

Lucy’s expression hardened as she grappled with the decision. “I’m scared to bring you. You’re not supposed to know about this part of the estate. It’s... complicated.”

Lysander’s determination only strengthened. “If the house is at risk, I want to help. I may not know everything, but I don’t want to be responsible for ignoring something that could harm the estate or its inhabitants.”

Lucy hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded reluctantly. “Alright. But stick close to me, and try to stay quiet. We don’t know what we might encounter.”

Without another word, Lucy turned on her heel and began to move swiftly through the forest. Lysander followed closely, his senses on high alert. The forest seemed to close in around them, the trees casting twisted shadows that danced in the fading light. The rhythmic thrumming of the bell continued, growing louder with every step they took.

As they emerged from the wooded area, they passed the orchard, the trees now appearing like dark, skeletal forms against the deepening twilight. Lysander’s mind whirled with questions, but he kept them to himself, trusting Lucy’s lead.

The path they followed was uneven, the ground littered with fallen leaves and twisted roots. Lysander’s boots crunched on the underbrush, and he tried to match Lucy’s quick pace without stumbling. The bell’s sound seemed to grow more urgent, resonating through the very core of the earth.

Finally, they reached a clump of woods where the trees parted to reveal a stone platform. At the center of the platform stood an ancient stone pillar, its surface covered in intricate carvings that glowed faintly in the twilight. The pillar was enormous, its base wide and sturdy, as if it had been part of the earth since time immemorial.

The carvings on the pillar depicted strange symbols and scenes, their meanings lost to time. The stone itself seemed to pulse with a faint, rhythmic glow, matching the thrumming of the bell. Lysander could feel the energy in the air, a charged and ancient power that was both mesmerizing and intimidating.

Lysander noticed movement near another path leading to another part of the estate. A small group of figures had gathered, their presence adding to the already eerie ambiance. Lysander’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw them more clearly. Three figures stood in the dim light: two maids who resembled Lucy who also appeared to be ghosts and a man who looked to be in his early forties. Another woman, with stringy black hair and piercing red eyes, added an unsettling touch to the scene. The last woman, dressed in a tattered black dress with sharp teeth and a menacing demeanor, completed the unusual gathering.

The spectral maids were immediately familiar; one had vibrant red hair and wore a green maid’s dress with white trim, while the other was taller, clad in black with red trim. Her attire was daring, with a low-cut top that contrasted sharply with the expression of annoyance. The man appeared calm but alert, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a thoughtful expression.

Lysander and Lucy approached cautiously, but the group seemed to ignore them entirely, engrossed in their discussion. The conversation was hushed but intense, and he could make out snippets of their exchange.

“The Dread Bell is ringing,” said the maid with red hair, her voice tinged with concern. “We need to stabilize it quickly.”

The woman with the red eyes, who had been previously identified as Saphron, interjected sharply. “Has Chrona awakened yet?”

The taller maid, her expression troubled, shook her head. “No, not yet. We’ve just arrived. There’s no sign of what might have triggered the alarm.”

Saphron’s eyes flashed with anger. “Those damnable Skulth. Always causing trouble.”

"We're going to have to do this ourselves, aren't we?" the red headed maid sighed and folded her arms across her chest.

"Something has to be done. If Chrona awakens and we don't have a good answer for her, she'll go on a rampage."

"I'll go," The dark haired maid spoke up with an irritated sigh, but Saphron cut her off with a forceful bark. “No! Only Charlotte or a mortal can enter the lower chamber after it’s been triggered. You know that. We need to wait and hope she gets here before Chrona pulls herself out.”

Lysander, feeling a mix of curiosity and determination, decided to speak up. “I can go. If it helps stabilize the estate, I want to assist.”

Saphron’s attention snapped to him and Lucy for the first time. Her gaze bounced between the two, her expression shifting from irritation to suspicion. “Who are you? How dare you show up and now claim you want to help?”

Lysander’s heart raced. He hadn’t expected this reaction, and Saphron’s intense scrutiny made him feel small. “I’m Lysander Culfre, the grandson of the previous guardian. I’ve been staying here for just a few days.”

Lucy stepped in quickly. “Saphron, please, don’t be upset. He can help.”

"You expect me to just trust him? Based on your word alone? That's a weak bargain."

For a moment, Lysander felt a spike of anger for his new friend being treated but Lucy did not react and kept talking.

"Vesper came down and perched on him."

Everyone seemed to be surprised by that, including the woman Saphron.

'I guess the moth girl does avoid people.'

Saphron’s eyes narrowed, her anger momentarily subdued by the revelation. She studied Lysander with renewed curiosity, her red eyes searching for any sign of deceit. “The grandson of the guardian...”

"We don't have a choice, Saph," the other man said.

Lysander swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. “If I can be of help, please let me.”

Silence fell on them except for the unsettling peel of the dread bell somewhere on the pillar.

Finally, Saphron let out a long, weary sigh. “Fine.”

The woman strode over to the stone base and placed her hand somewhere on it. Somewhere deep within was a grinding noise and stone shift to show a crawlspace going in and down out of view.

"Crawl through this. it's about twenty feet and you'll be in a chamber. There will be a crystal inset into the wall down there. It should be glowing any color but blue. Grab it, hold it, and don't let go. Not until it turns back to blue. Once that's done, come back the way you came."

Lysander gave a firm nod and crouched down to begin. The ice cold grip of Saphron latched on to his shoulder as she hissed in his ear.

"And don't go any further. You won't come back."

Lysander’s heart raced as he followed Saphron’s instructions, his mind buzzing. With a determined nod, Lysander steeled himself.

'If I'm going to prove anything, I got to do this.'

He was sure that this was going to be the only time in his entire stay that he could prove to Charlotte he was here to help.

The young man pulled himself in, his knees against the dirty stone that made up the entrance. The passage was narrow and claustrophobic, forcing Lysander to move on his hands and knees. The sensation of cobwebs brushing against his skin and the occasional tickle of spiders made his skin crawl. The darkness of the passage was punctuated only by the faint glow of the symbols and runes that lined the walls.

After what felt like an eternity of crawling, Lysander finally emerged into the chamber. The dim light revealed a space that was both surreal and unsettling. Glowing mushrooms, their bioluminescence casting an eerie orange light, illuminated the chamber with an otherworldly glow. The contrast between the dark shadows and the warm light created comfort in an uneasy way.

In the center of the chamber, mounted on a pedestal, was the glowing red crystal. Its pulsating light cast eerie reflections on the walls, creating an unsettling rhythm that matched Lysander’s racing heartbeat. The crystal’s red hue seemed to pulse in time with his anxiety, and he could feel the heat radiating from it even from a distance.

'If I didn't believe in the supernatural now, this would have convinced me,' he thought to himself.

He glanced around the chamber, noting another corridor stretching into the darkness by him. The thought of turning his back to that corridor made him uncomfortable; it seemed to stretch endlessly, its depths shrouded in impenetrable darkness. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something might be lurking in the shadows, watching him.

Lysander approached the pedestal, his hands trembling slightly. The crystal vibrated and felt warm against his palms as he reached out to touch it. The sensation was both unsettling and exhilarating, a tangible connection to the mysterious forces at play.

He grasped the crystal firmly, feeling its heat intensify. The pulsating rhythm seemed to sync with his heartbeat, and he forced himself to focus, adjusting the crystal as instructed. The red light continued to throb, and Lysander’s hands shook with the effort, but he did not let go. He could hear something crawling along the stone towards him, a scuttling noise that sent shivers down his spine.

The sound grew louder, more persistent, and Lysander’s mind raced

'Crap, crap, crap!' He willed himself to stay focused, ignoring the growing sense of dread. The crystal’s warmth was becoming almost unbearable, but he clenched it tighter, determined to see the task through.

The crystal's red hue began to shift, the color gradually fading to a softer shade of blue. The transformation was slow but steady, and Lysander’s relief grew as the blue light began to take over. He felt a surge of triumph as the crystal finally glowed a steady blue, and he knew his task was almost complete.

'There we go!'

Without hesitation, Lysander turned and ran back towards the passage. The sense of urgency was overwhelming, and he could feel the presence of whatever had been crawling towards him drawing closer.

He heaved himself up into the passage, his heart pounding as he scrambled to escape. The narrow space felt suffocating, and he pushed himself to move faster, fueled by the fear that something was right behind him. A glance over his shoulder revealed a clockwork hand reaching up from the darkness, its metallic fingers grasping for purchase. The sight made his blood run cold, and he redoubled his efforts, desperate to escape.

Finally, Lysander tumbled out of the passage and into the open air. The contrast between the suffocating darkness of the lower chamber and the fresh grass beneath him was almost overwhelming. He gasped for breath, his body trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline.

"I did it!" He yelled triumphantly. The air around him did not feel so charged anymore.

Standing over him were Saphron, Lucy, and now Charlotte. The expressions on their faces ranged from relief to fury. Charlotte’s eyes were blazing with anger, her arms crossed tightly as she glared down at Lysander.

'Shit.'

***

Charlotte was furious. That was not a strong enough word for the emotions that were boiling off her. Everyone had melded back into the forest where they had come from leaving the head maid leading Lucy, the other maids, and Lysander back towards the house. By the time they got there, the sun had gone down for the day and the annoying rumble of thunder was back.

Charlotte dismissed the three others who quickly vanished into the woodwork. Lucy trembled by Lysander’s side.

“Lucille,” Charlotte started, her eyes burning like raging coals. “You have blatantly ignored my instructions. I told you to remain hidden no matter what.”

“But, ma’am—” Lucy started but she did not get another word out.

“No! You disobeyed me and you have jeopardized this entire house. This entire refuge! You put the inhabitants of this place in danger and—”

That was it. Lysander could not handle anymore. He was not sure of anything but there was one thing he was good at. Getting himself in trouble.

“Enough,” he said strong enough to cut off the conversation.

“Excuse me?” Charlotte said, turning her burning eyes to him.

Lysander stepped in front of Lucy to allow the trembling girl to hide behind him.

“You heard me,” Lysander said matching her tone though he shook inside. “Yelling at the staff is unacceptable for woman in your position. Lucy has done well by providing me extra food, drink, and tour of the facility. More than I ever got from you.”

The last sentence seemed to have struck a nerve as Charlotte’s face blanched and she took a step back.

“What…no,” she started, her voice faltering. “That is not the subject of this—”

“Lucy was wonderful in letting me know about some of the tenants that live here and also was kind enough to introduce me to one. Vesper is a lovely girl.”

“You…met Vesper.”

“And she appears to enjoy perching on me out of nowhere,” he said remembering the weird interaction, but he made sure his voice sounded as if that was normal. Charlotte’s shoulders had slumped and the fire that were in her eyes had gone out.

“She did?” Charlotte asked, looking at Lucy who was peering around. The maid nodded vigorously.

“So, I must ask you Miss Dwimor to allow the staff to do their job and for you to consider how you can improve on doing your own. This is my house now and you will abide by my rules…or I’ll have to locate another head maid.”

The writer knew the last few sentences were unnecessary but in the days that he had been here, the cold, indifferent attitude had gotten to him. The only ray of light had been the ghost girl hiding behind him. Lysander could see from the way her shoulders sagged, and her chin dropped to hide her eyes that he had gone too far.

“Will…will that be all, sir?” Charlotte asked, her voice small and without emotion.

“Yes. Thank you.”

She turned and left.

***

Lysander had finally made it to his room, and everything gave out as he sat on the bed. He fell back shaking, adrenalin and exhaustion hitting him all at once. What the hell was happening at this place?

He couldn’t shake the expression on Charlotte’s face either. He had only meant to scold her but something he said had crushed her.

‘What the hell was I thinking? Grandpa said to trust her. Look what I did.’

“That was too rough, sir.”

The writer sat back up and looked towards the wall where the voice came from, Lucy phased through it and solidified a bit.

“Yeah, I know. I just couldn’t let her treat you like that.”

“It’s not the first time,” the ghost girl said with a shrug as she floated near him. “She’s a very proud woman and she has been struggling after the death of our previous master.”

Yeah. He had been too hard on her.

“I’m going to go apologize,” he said standing up and making his way to the door. He had gotten it open when Lucy’s cool fingers wrapped around his arm to gently hold him back.

“Now’s not a good time.”

The hallway was silent except for in the distance, he could hear a woman weeping.

“Oh.”

Lucy nodded and gently pulled him back in to his room.

‘I’m the monster here.’