Iron Quill: PGB - The Box

[Jonasty]

Harris stared at the bright purple door, his face a mask of confusion. While he was confident he had never been here before, hadn’t stepped foot on this street in his life, there was something that felt familiar about it. Steeling himself, he grabbed the handle and pushed the door open into darkness beyond.

------

“Hmm?”

“I said I’ve never understood why you don’t just go back to Richmond.” Vale looked over at Harris as they walked. “Your family’s got that plantation just waiting for you to run, a veritable gold mine of wealth that you simply have to choose to take. And you’ve got that sweet little number, what’s her name? She’s just waiting to throw herself at your feet and to your bed from what I’ve gathered from her letters.”

Harris chuckled at his companion’s rather sugarcoated and crass view of the life he had left. “It certainly isn’t as easy as you make it sound to run the family business, let me tell you. And plantation is a generous term, farm is probably more appropriate. And if you’re referring to Leslie Mae, I’m sure I don’t have a clue as to what you’re talking about.” He laughed and slugged the man on the shoulder. “And I’ll thank you to stay out my mail you bastard.”

Vale punched him back good naturedly as they moved along the street. “Well either way, it all still sounds like a vast step up from working for the Guild in this madhouse.” He gestured to the streets and buildings around them, as if to make his point.

Harris looked around himself and took in the sights, sounds, and even smells of Malifaux and gave his friend a small smile that Vale simply shrugged off. Few people, especially his family, could understand his fascination with the city. He remembered his father’s anger when he had first told him his plans for going to the other side of the Breach, his mother’s sadness. He recalled Vale’s shock when Harris had truthfully told him why he had become a Guardsman in the Guild. Thankfully their new friendship was solid by that point and all Harris had to deal with was some constant playful ribbing. Naïve, innocent, foolish, he’d been called all these things but it still didn’t lessen the single drive behind his move to Malifaux. Magic. The pure beauty and romantic dream of magic.

------

Moving quietly through the building, Harris could see it was an empty home, one of many similar structures in this area. Peeking into the various rooms as he passed he saw only bare floors and hollow spaces. Yet his feet barely paused at the entrances, his steps carrying towards the stairs as if his body knew something that his mind had yet to connect.

------

Harris quickly learned that he didn’t possess the aptitude for magic, much more than a casual trick more sleight of hand than anything else. Yet it wasn’t the practice but simply the abundant existence of magic that called to him and he quickly decided that the Guild would be the right place for him. He didn’t necessarily believe in their staunch view of the control of magic but regardless it did allow him to surround himself in all things magical by living in this grand city and being around those who could work wonders.

That was what had led him to this point, standing in front of the bright purple door that Vale knocked against now. They were investigating the rumor of a rogue practitioner, an Arcanist if the rumor was to be believed, that had taken up residence in this home. There was nothing solid to indicate anything, there never was. But people had complained of strange noises and sights for the last week or so and it had not received much notice. Not until the first person turned up missing. Now it had the Guild’s attention.

With no answer to his pounding, Vale grabbed the handle and turned, finding the door surprisingly unlocked. He turned to Harris with a grin. “Certainly do appreciate when they’re thoughtful seditionists.”

Harris smiled back in return but kept his hand on his weapon all the same as they entered. Arcanists were a secretive and protective lot and they had been known to quickly turn violent when cornered.

------

Moving along the upper hallway, he flinched at every creak of the floor under his feet, his head a swivel that spun at the slightest noise or sight. His unease only grew as his body continued to carry him forward despite his brain still being unable to piece together how he knew this place. The door at the end of the hall stood closed, the only shut portal he had seen since entering the house. And he somehow knew with dread that this was where his feet were taking him.

------

Harris had checked out the ground floor and was just making his way back towards the entrance when he heard Vale’s scream from upstairs. Drawing his pistol, he rushed up the stairs taking them two at a time. Rushing down the hallway, he came to a closed door in front of him and went to open it. The handle wouldn’t budge and the door was stuck firm. Stepping back, he slammed a booted heel into the door with a resounding crash but it barely rattled the door in its frame. Moving back again, he let fly with another kick and he heard the sound of wood cracking beneath his foot.

Vale let loose another scream, clearly coming from the other side of the door and Harris reared back and threw his shoulder and entire weight into the door. With a mighty crash, the door flew inwards, half hanging off its hinges and Harris tumbled to the floor amidst a scene of horror.

------

The handle turned easily in his hand now and as Harris stepped into the room, his memories came back in a flood of disjointed horror. Himself sprawled out on the floor, weapon drawn but forgotten in frozen hands. Vale hanging suspended in the air by … something, his eyes empty and void. A woman smiling silently, watching, as the world around him faded to black.

Something seemed to break inside him and silent tears flowed down his cheeks as he entered the room for the final time. Standing there, as if she had been waiting eons for him to return was the same dark haired woman from before, her smile the exact same as he now suddenly remembered.

“I was curious to see if it had taken hold. Madness is such a delicate and fickle thing, and tend to it all you will, you never quite know how it will blossom in the end.” Slowly, almost delicately, she raised a small box that rested on her palm and gingerly opened the lid. Brightly colored light poured out from the container and slowly wrapped itself around the frozen Guardsman, taking on surprising solidness as it lifted him silently through the air towards what appeared to be the expanding opening of the box.

As he began to be pulled into the box, he thought he could hear Vale’s voice calling as if from a great distance.

“You should’ve gone back to Richmond.”

So I'm pretty proud of my submission and I hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think.

Theme: The Forgotten Room

Line: "I've never understood why you don't just go back to Richmond."

[El Indio]

Very well done! The end was a little confusing (had Harris been replaying the scene over and over again?), but what won me over on this one was the character of Harris himself, who you made surprisingly convincing and real. The backstory and motivations you managed to work in really gave a three-dimensionality to him, and I liked his view on the world: slightly jaded, but happy with his job, and not a bad person at all. You have every right to be proud of this one.

[E.T.A. Hoffman]

I liked it. Well done. I wish I had something constructive to add. But, keep doing what you're doing.