Chapter 6

 SCARLETT'S P.O.V

My mind reeled back and forth, recalling the events of that night. I had been so close, so fucking close to knowing the damned secrets of the manor. The secret seemed to terrify Savannah and every other person so badly that it was an utmost priority to keep it sealed off. Savannah's reaction only intensified my curiosity to go there. What was she hiding? Surely whatever was kept in the house couldn't be so scary as to endanger the lives of the people around if by some miracle it escapes. What was it? Was it even an it? Or a who?

God, I was going crazy. This insane curiosity felt like an itch that wouldn't go away unless it was carved out. A yawn escaped me as I bent to pick up the cleaning supplies that I had used to clean one of the rooms when something outside the windows, which faced the vast garden of the manor, caught my eyes. It was Savannah, pacing back and forth as she discussed something with someone on the phone. She seemed greatly unsettled. Just then, I recalled our earlier conversation from a fortnight ago, the day after the night encounter. I had been in the hallway when I ran into Savannah.

"Ahh, Scarlett, just who I've been wanting to see."

"Hey Sav, what's up?" I smiled nervously, already knowing what she'd want to talk about.

She gave me a look, folding her arms. "You know what's up, Scarlett. What were you trying to do last night? What did I tell you about the east wing? You displayed an anarchic behavior, Scarlett, and I find that highly unacceptable." She scolded, making me feel like a disobedient child.

Exhaling deeply, I began explaining, "Look, Sav, believe me when I say that I had no intention of breaking your rule. But something strange happened last night. I mean... I... I still find it hard to believe what I heard, but I know what I heard. And trust me, I'm not making any excuses."

"What did you hear?"

"A growl." I watched her freeze, a flicker of fear crossing her face.

"A...a w…what?"

"A growl, I mean, I think it should be a growl. I believe that's what a growl should sound like. And the crazy thing is, when I tried following the trail, it led me towards the east wing." I shrugged. I heard her mutter incoherently, rubbing the creases on her forehead. Reaching out to her, I touched her arm, startling her.

"Sav, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, I am. Now listen to what I say, Scarlett: you didn't hear anything last night. Do you understand me? You heard nothing."

"But—"

"Nothing, Scarlett." She snapped coldly, sucking in a breath before continuing in a much calmer tone, a pleading look in her orbs, "Please." 

Biting my lip, I huffed, "Fine." Without uttering another word, she turned and left, looking visibly anxious. 

Breaking out of my reverie, I blinked rapidly, casting my gaze out the window once more only to discover that she was nowhere in sight. Ever since we had that conversation, Savannah had avoided speaking of the east wing, not like I had talked about it either. But her reaction spurred me to find out something, anything. The rest of the day carried on fairly normally until the evening approached, dark clouds slowly covering the sky. After dinner, I decided to take a walk around the vast property when I saw Owen, the young lad who had taken an interest in Rosa. As I looked at him, a lightbulb went off in my head, and so I approached him.

"Hey Owen, working hard on those flowers." I grinned at him. Standing to his full height, he gave me a grin in return, wiping away the beads of sweat on his forehead.

"Hey Scar, fancy seeing you out here." He had on dark brown pants with a faded grey shirt and was wearing gardening gloves. His dirty blonde hair looked tousled, slightly matted with dirt and sweat. Seeing a slab of rock close by, I lowered myself onto it.

"Mmm, well. I decided to take a much-needed evening stroll and saw you, so I decided to say hi."

Giving me a lopsided smile, he responded, "You decided to say hi? I'm touched. To what do I owe the honor?"

Placing an arm on my chest dramatically, "I'm hurt. Can't I say hi to my friend anymore?" I pouted, keeping up the façade for a few seconds until we both burst into laughter. 

"So, uh, have you seen Rosa around?" He asked nervously, fidgeting with the shears in his grasp, avoiding eye contact. His ears turned red as he blushed. Awwn, someone was in love.

"Yeah, I saw her around. Why?"

"No reason, just asking." He tried shrugging it off casually.

"Mmhmm, sure." I teased. In return, the redness spread towards his cheek. God, he was fun to tease. 

"Um, Owen?" He hummed in response.

"How long have you been working here?"

"A couple of years, why?"

"Well...uh...I was curious. Would you happen to know anything about the east wing of the manor?" I asked carefully, hoping to God to get a positive response. I watched closely for any sort of reaction from him, but there was none. He remained calm and collected while he carried on with what he was doing.

"Nope, nada." He was lying; I could feel it.

"Owen, you're lying."

"Pfft, no, I'm not. Why would I lie?"

"I don't know; you tell me."

"Because I'm not okay," he broke into a slightly nervous chuckle, "I don't have anything to tell."

Rising to my feet, I maintained eye contact with him. "Owen, I know you know something. Please, tell me what you know."

He let out a sigh, indecisiveness flickering in his orbs before he finally spoke in a low tone, "When I first began working here, I found it strange why people who worked outside the manor were never allowed inside the manor, except of course under grounded supervision. I was young, new, and very inquisitive, much like you are now. I made friends with one of the maids who worked here; she had told me a story about a couple of people who had dared to enter the east wing. They were terrified out of their wits of what they saw, sending them running for the hills. It was unclear what they had seen or heard, but it was enough to drive them away the very day they defied the rule of the east wing. Some say that they were made to disappear; others say that they ran away. Put it in simple terms, they disappeared into thin air without a trace." I listened with rapt attention, hanging on to every word that fell from his lips. If there was one thing that was clear, then it was the fact that whatever this was goes way back, far beyond anyone's comprehension. I mean, how long has the rule of the east wing been in place?

"Look, I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't go poking your nose in what you're not supposed to. For your own good, I'm sure whatever reason Mrs. Hawton warned you to stay away from the east wing is for your own good, because she's a good woman."

"I see, thank you, Owen." I gave him a grateful smile, already making my way away from him.

"Sure thing, Scar, see you around." He smiled back, finishing up with what he was doing.

Halting in my steps, I spun around to ask him one last question: "Owen, what did your ladyfriend believe?" 

Kissing his teeth, he rubbed the back of his neck. "She didn't know what to believe. I guess a big part of her believed in the rumors of the beast roaming about in the east wing, a beast that terrified her friends so badly that they ran for their lives. I guess that was why she left also." 

Nodding in understanding, "What do you believe, Owen?"

"Honestly, I don't know what to believe." 

*********

In the confines of the east wing, deep within the darkness of his slumber, Luciano stirred. At first he could feel it, smell it, and hear it. Voices, echoes, whispers. He couldn't decipher what it was exactly. The smell, although faint and distant, was nothing like he had ever perceived before. It was intoxicating; only the slightest whiff of it called out to him like a whisper in the abyss. Perhaps he was imagining it; after all, being locked up in your personal hellhole would do that to you, but a part of him knew it was real, which could only mean the time was close. A spark of hope ignited within him. If he could fight harder, if he could cling to that hope, then perhaps he'd find a way out. 

His primal, animal-like instincts clawed at the invisible chains holding him back, the beast in him deeply unsettled. His muscles tensed, his subconsciousness restless. Who or what was that? He fought hard within himself in the darkness, aching to feel the warmth of that scent, but the darkness weighed down on him. Yet he could feel it; something was changing. It won't be long now; soon he'd be free of this darkness, and when he was, he'd find this scent, who it was. Or perhaps the scent or the being would find its way to him; his freedom drew near.