For the Love of the Deadly

A SHORT STORY BY KIKO QUEZON

“So the unwanting soul sees what's hidden, and the ever-wanting soul sees only what it wants.”

- Lao Tzu

“Let me tell you a story of the hallowed manor that sat above everyone else. Legend tells of a humble but starved family who struck a deal with a well-dressed traveler. In a short month, the Moore Family lived above the common folk; they had everything they could ever desire. But what they gained would be the makings of their own family’s curse.”

The morning starts to fill with life as servants scuttle around a grand manor, sweeping and bustling to prepare a lavish breakfast for the family. Bartholomew Moore, a plump man who reeked of gluttony and sloth. Each thread of his aristocratic blouse fought hard to hold on to his morbid obesity; his throne, a reinforced chair at the very end of the refectory table. As the so-called head of the family, he is already at the table gnawing at every turkey leg, boar, and sweet delicacies he can put his stubby fingers on. “Where is the wine?!” He screams with desperate command slamming the table repeatedly like an infant demanding milk. Chunks of meat and bones bounce as his palm hits the table. He would spend the entirety of his day in his throne swapping plates for pillows, without so much such as a walk in the garden.

In the grand halls of the manor, a slender figure endlessly roams – Lillian Moore. Lillian was the wife of Bartholomew who had the cold hands for avarice; a different gemstone in every finger and a blinding diamond necklace as heavy as her own ego. She struts around the halls admiring every over-priced marble statues, velvet curtains, paintings, and extravagant fountains. She takes pride in the wealth she has amassed. But who’s to say how she’s acquired such riches when only a month ago, she, along with her family, lived in a barn with only straws on her fingers. On her best days, she sits on a stool hours on end while a renowned artist sculpts her ghoulish features.

Inside the four walls of an effeminate bed chamber staring at her own reflection in an antique Florentine mirror is Agatha Moore, Lillian and Bartholomew’s daughter. Going through her blossoming years; Agatha is deeply enamored with her looks. For until a month ago, flaking skin and warts had covered most of her face. She envied the young women her age that had plenty of men lining up for their hands. But now, she spends hours adoring her reflection. Her porcelain skin and modest features contrasted her deep desire to own every man she can seduce.

Finally, Sebastian Moore, the youngest among the family, usually found by the gardens playing. The pure child whose heart is full of love was ignorant to the darkness consuming his family. But there was one peculiarity with this sweet caring boy – fits of rage that would overcome him from time to time. Rage that would end the lives of small creatures that do him harm.

The Moore family lived in great luxury, but in what few months that they bathed in their own obsessions, their gifts from the traveler had to end.

One morning, a servant gasped upon seeing Bartholomew’s body slouched on the table he lived in. The back of his head is oozing with what she could only perceive as grease. Rats and flies feasted on what remains of his dinner the night before. The servant retched as soon as she inhaled the putrid aura emanating from his body. She walks over to the opposite side of the table to see his face. She lets out a shattering screech when she saw his purple face. Rats have taken shelter in his bloody mouth. She sees on his left hand, a dead rat with a large bite mark across its back. More servants gasp as they arrive to see the horrid sight.

Mere days after the passing of Bartholomew, Lillian had already moved on. Finally, she could replace Bartholomew’s oversized clothes with her own bejeweled gowns. Lillian immediately purchased mountains of jewelries that could satisfy her greed only to store it in Bartholomew’s old closet. Until one night, she had just acquired a rare emerald reviere with a sapphire pendant. As she opened her jewelry closet to store the reviere, hundreds of jewelries came crashing down on her face. The sharp edges of each gemstone sliced and pierced through her eyes – blinding her. She lived in misery knowing of her great wealth but unable to admire them.

Even so, Lillian kept wandering the halls gliding her hands on her marble statues, velvet curtains, and the paintings she could not see, until she reached the end to an open balcony; not knowing that the halls ended, she tumbles on the railings, falling and impaling herself on the tip of a fountain by the garden. In the distance, Sebastian tilts his head as he stares at her blood fusing with the flowing water.

Sebastian and Agatha became orphans; most servants had left and took some of the family’s riches. Fearing that the family is cursed, some gladly left empty handed. All but one servant left the manor – Edith. Edith was Sebastian’s personal servant; she had always cared for the children as if they were her own. She took care of the orphans until Agatha would be of age to claim their family’s riches.

But Agatha was building a reputation among the young people in their town. She was always the epicenter of a scandal. Two men had recently fought for her hand as she cruelly watched them strike each other to death. The loser, who was obsessed with Agatha, decided that if she could not be his, she could be with anyone else. That same night, Agatha was paid a visit by her obsessed stalker. He climbed up her windowsill and slit her throat in her sleep. The man carved his own neck and laid down beside the love of his life. In his twisted attempt on having her, they spent what remained of their lives together. The man smiled as he stared at Agatha’s eyes desperately gasping her final breath.

Upon seeing the gruesome fate of his mother and sister, Sebastian greatly feared that death would come to him as it did his family, that the only thing he would want, is to so ever escape death. Edith, who now believes that the family is cursed, decided that she too should leave the manor. She left one early morning before the boy would wake. She packed her bags, left the family’s treasures alone, looked back one last time only to see Sebastian staring at her from a lonely window, and went down the cliff to the common folks – where she never heard from the boy ever again.

Of course she did hear stories about him; about the cursed boy, in the hallowed manor. She heard stories of a well-dressed red eyed traveler who constantly visited the manor. People said he was the devil who granted people’s wishes but twists them for his entertainment. Edith knew that if there was one thing the boy wished, it was to escape death.

The End