✹✹✹

The care home was located on the edge of town, far from the centre, it was sizable, Chris had remembered James previously had told him that it had been a brothel once in time, but Chris doubted. They traveled inside, immediately being welcomed by a stifling hot room, Chris took his coat off, already feeling sweat beading on his forehead, draping it over his arms, as they moved to the reception desk.

“Hi Maggie,” James said to a middle aged woman, her frizzy dark blonde locks tied low in a ponytail. 

 she smile toothily at James. “Visiting your grandpa?” she asked.

“Mum made a cake, thought it would be nice to pop some slices over to give to him, he's always loved her Victoria sponge cake.”

Chris snorted, James instantly stamped his foot down on Chris's, putting as much pressure down as he could, he continued to smile, “well if there is enough, i’m sure granddad wouldn’t mind sharing with everyone.”

“That would be lovely,” she grinned. “Well your grandpa is in the communal area.” she directed and pointed with her finger to the double doors.

As they walked off, Chris moved closer to James, “what hell?”

“My mums baking ain't a joke.”

“She’s literally given me food poisoning on several occasions,” Chris argued.

James scoffed “it was once Chris,” he told him, “when are you going to let that go?”

“She ruined my birthday.” Chris contended.

“It’s not your real birthday.” James shot back.

“Well it’s as real as it ever will be,” he threw his hands in the air, “it felt like I was shitting out lava James, lava!” he shrieked.

“Your over reacting, Matius didn’t react like that,”

“Matius didn’t have any cake because his dad was worried he’d get too hyper from the sugar.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” James insisted.

“I was a social pria at school for two years.”

“We were six, six years blow things out of proportion.”

“Lucas hunt still won’t talk to me.” Chris maintained.

“Lucas hunt looks like what would happen if a horse decided to fuck a beaver. You should be glad he doesn't want to talk to you, someone us aren’t as lucky.”

Chris rolled his eyes, going into silence muttering “your mother's baking is what got your dad packing.”

James hit Chris' arm at the mutter, as they proceeded through the double doors, and through to the communal area. James spotted his granddad in the far corner sitting in a lounge chair.

“Granddad,” he called.

“James,” the elderly man looked up, “how are you my boy?”

“I’m alright, I brought Chris with me today.”

“Oh, hello there Chris.”

“Hi, Robert.” Chris smiled, sitting down on a chair close to the old man.

“Mum made sponge cake today, said to bring some over for you.” James spoke opening up his backpack, taking out a container. “I’ll go look for some plates so we can eat a slice now.” James went wandering off to talk to a staff member.

“Have you had a haircut, Robert?” Chris asked.

the man smiled, “we had it done yesterday. It’s not too short is it?”

“No, it looks really nice.”

“My,” Robert said after a short second squinting his eyes at Chris's, “have your eyes always been that shade, they are quite-” he stopped, “attractive, aren’t they?”

Chris rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “no, a more recent thing,” he answered.

“Well, they are very nice.” Robert smiled. “James hasn’t been a handful has he? he’s always been that way.”

Chris smirked, “we get on with it.”

Robert chuckled lightly at Chris's reply “how have you been Robert?" Chris questioned, "been a while since i last saw you.”

“Not since summer,” he said, sighed, “this weather has been having my bones ache, my joints aren't faring well either.”

“Thank god, you don't go outside then. This place feels like a blooming sauna,”

“Better than it being cold.” Robert replied.

Chris smiled, he looked to Robert unsure, “um Robert?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been looking into the town's history and I was wondering if you remember anything about the murders when you were younger?”

“Hard to,” Robert began in a stern voice, “they found a body in the woods every now and then. But i remember one from when I was a lad, sixteen i think, walking to school as i always did with my friends, when we saw something at shore on the beach, people were gathered around it. We were a curious lot, so my friends and I walked down to see what fuss was. It turned out a body washed up on shore, left by the tide.” he looked away for a moment, “A man i think, they had a leg missing and their shoulder was near torn off, their skin ripped in every way you could look. But what stood out was that his heart was missing, pulled right out from his chest. Horrible it was, just horrible.”

Chris gulped. “Did anyone recognize the man?”

“Not at first took a while but someone did eventually, he was a driver up at the manor, I recall them saying.”

“A driver?” Chris questioned.

“Strange, isn’t it? In all my years I have lived in this town, I don't think I've ever seen someone driving out from there. There was a rumor when I was child the owners only came out at night, vampires, one of my friends thought, a load of nonsense of course.”

Chris nodded, “my brother reckons there's no one in that house.”

Robert smiled, his crooked teeth on show. “No, no Ruth over there could detest that.” he pointed his shaking hand in the direction of an elderly woman sitting around the table playing cards with three other men. “Worked there for fifty eight years till she came here.”

“She really worked in the manor?”

“She’s a bit of a celebrity here, because of it.” Robert spoke. 

Chris turned looking at the old lady, just then James came back walking happily along with three plates. “Here we go.” he smiled, placing down the plates, and sharing out three slices of cake. “Here granddad,” he passed a plate over to him.

“Chris do you want a piece?”

Chris twisted his head back to Robert and James, his eyes gazed down to slices of cake, “no, i don’t think-”

“You're not going to die Chris.”

“It felt like it, James,” he exclaimed, “I'm not going to risk it.”

James shrugged then took a bite, “you sure? cause this is actually really nice.”

“I’m sure,” he said distantly, looking back over to Ruth. “I think i’m going to wander around while you eat your cake.”

James didn’t say anything, only switching his eyes back to his granddad asking whether or not he liked the cake.

Chris walked off circling towards the table where Ruth sat, lingering as he watched the four elderly people play a game of cards.

“Archie, I know you’re cheating.” a balding short man in a navy blue jumper and cream shirt spoke.

“Shut up Earl, only because you’re losing.” another a taller man with greying dark hair, a spout face, with red cheeks said.

The other man next to him, meatless arms and a hollow face with dyed black hair, his eyes enlarged by his square glasses, laughed. “I’d put my money on Ruth here beating all arses again.”

“Well what can i say you boys make it too easy.” she chuckled.

“Come on now Ruth, I could pull through-” he stopped, turning to look at Chris, he adjusted his glasses, taking a closer look, “can we help you?” he asked Chris. They all twisted their faces to look at Chris, both the men took immediately to his eyes, being sucked into the beauteous trance. But Ruth didn’t bat an eye, she frowned deeply.

“Sorry, it-it’s just that Robert over was telling me that you worked at the manor, i just wanted to ask what it was like and if you ever saw the-”

She put her hand up, “hold on there kid, can’t you see i’m in the middle of a game here?”

“Oh, sorry i didn’t mean-”

“Leave poor boy alone Ruthy.” Earl said cutting Chris short, “he’s only curious, it isn’t every day you get to meet someone who worked there.”

“Just tell the kid, so we can get back to our game,” Archie grumbled.

Ruth sighed. “What do you want to know?"

Chris smiled, “well i suppose we can start off with what it was like there, did you see the owners often-”

“One question at a time kid, and it was a job, nothing more, nothing less, i was just a simple housemaid, did most chores, worked from the early mornings till late at night, i wonder how i did so much with such little sleep, but here i am.”

“How’d you start working there? The manor I mean.”

“Well they don’t really hire, I've had generations before me in my family working in that house, and my children are even working there now, and I don't doubt their children will too.”

“Why?”

Ruth didn’t answer, but carried on to speak, “i worked there for fifty eight years, lived there too, ever since i was eighteen, just out of school.” she smiled as if thinking of fond memories.

“I’ve been looking into a lot of the towns history," Chris began, "and I've come across this curious thing that a majority of the murder victims found were workers at the manor, i know this may not be nice to ask but-”

“I don’t, and you're right it isn’t nice. Now if you’d excuse us we’d like to get back to our game.”

Chris nodded, a gulp passing down his throat as he turned away back to James and his grandfather.

✹✹✹

“was Ruth helpful in your research?” James mocked, as they walked out the care home.

“She was pretty rude actually.” he answered, “But I found something quite interesting.” Chris smiled smugly.

James scoffed, “go on then,”

“They have families that work there.”

James looked at him like he was insane, “yeah, no shit.”

“No I mean, they don’t hire people out from the town or well anywhere else, they just have families who’ve worked there for generations for the jobs.”

“It’s not that strange.”

“So if your mother died, and the only she left was her role at the manor, you wouldn't think that's weird?”

“Okay it is strange, but it’s not other worldly.”

“It explains a lot, I mean the guy I found, he was the gardener, but so was his dad and his dad before him.”

“Sounds nice,” James mused, “free board and a job, the owners must be quite generous.”

“Free board?” Chris questioned.

“You never see anyone coming out there, and that guy you saw in the woods lived on the manors grounds. they must give housing to their staff”

Chris nodded, “but why not hire outside the manor? why not people from Nereid?”

James looked at Chris, “mate, you're looking way too much into this, i mean they could simply just be happy with help they already have.”

“But-”

“Chris, I'm saying this because I'm your mate, your obsession is borderline insane. Please for the love of god do something else, anything else, knitting would be better than this,”

Chris frowned, sighing, throwing his head back, “okay i promise i’ll start doing something normal.” he looked to his side, “soon,” he whispered.

“I fucking heard that,”

Chris groaned. “It is seriously weird that you think you're my dad.”

“I am a brilliant father. Speaking of dads, Matius’s has joined that theater group your dad a part of.”

“Christ no,”

“Matius had said the same thing when his dad came to take him to A and E.”

“Now i’ll have to see bloody Matius when i go see their shitty productions. You know they're doing the glass menagerie, you should hear my dad practicing his american accent, i just know it’ll be a disaster. I’d actually prefer a musical over hearing him do an american accent.”

“A bit prestigious for a community hall play isn't it?.”

“They think they're good enough for the west end.” Chris grumbled.

“Well all dreams of that are going to be dashed when Matuis’s dad joins the group.”

“I just hope they don’t become friends.”

“I’m pretty sure Matius’s dad thinks your dad is a lazy fuck. I think we’re good.”

“Remember what he did at Matius’s mums funeral, Christ no one expected him to get so drunk on orange punch.”

“Ruined the whole wake.”

“I think it was one of my earliest memories.” Chris commented.

“anyway all things beside it’ll make for great drama on set,”

“Not more," Chris moaned,  "he’s already been bitching about how they’ve had to,” Chris made quote marks with his fingers, “replace, directors five times. They’re a small community theater group, how can they throw away so many directors,” he raved on. “You’d be lucky to find one in this town.”

“The plays at college are probably better than theirs.'' James smirked.

“Oh I know they are.” Chris told him.

James sniggered, “I am so glad my mum has no hobbies.”

“She works at the museum,”

“Any weird hobbies,” he said further. He looked at Chris, “How's john?”

“No idea why?”

“Heard through the grapevine that he’s been asking about you, well talking about, I don't know. I didn’t even know the two of you were that good of friends, or well even friends.”

Chris shrugged, “we’ve talked a few times,”

“Yeah trying to get to death records. Anyway I'm going to head home,” he breathed, beginning to walk backwards towards another path. “Oh, and before i forget, Matius wants us to hang out at his place tomorrow,”

“Do you think his dad will be okay with that?”

James shrugged, “who cares he'll be too busy cleaning windows,” he joked.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Chris chuckled as James smiled with a simple wave then left.

Chris wandered about the town for a bit, the sun beginning to set in the sky, a nice yellow glow glazing on his face. He began to smell something, something lingering in the air, floating to his nostrils, it potent and stimulating, Chris drift along with the smell, finding its birth place, being lead straight to the butchers, the smell grew stronger the closer he got. He walked in side, sniffing about like a dog, he licked his lips in hunger, lusting after the smell. Then he found it, looking down to the meat in the see through glass, lined in rows. His mouth watered at the sight of the raw meat. He licked his lips again, his hands pressing on the glass.

“Do you want to buy something?” a voice asked, Chris looked up, only being able to nod his head eagerly. Pointing every which meat he could, especially the bloodied ones. The man collected the meat, packaging it up for Chris. He paid the man in speed, snatching away the bag of meats, rushing out the shop, and finding a bench to sit on. He then unpacked the meats, looking down at them with utter desire. He drove straight in, his hands picking them up, shoving them in his mouth, he chewed, ripping into the meat, and swallowed, sighing in pleasure, he licked the blood off his fingers, then went for another till all the meat was gone. He looked down at the bag, a moment passed and all he did came rushing to him. Chris felt something retract in his mouth, he ran his tongue over his teeth, finding nothing, he looked back down to the pack, suddenly feeling all too sick, he dropped the bag running to a bin, quickly sicking up all the raw meat he ate.

Chris stared into the back bin, pondering what would make him do such a thing, and why he had such a strong desire for it. His stomach churned, and he dipped his head back into the bin, clearing out his stomach. His throat burned, as tears streamed from his eyes, he sighed, picking himself up and forcing himself to walk home, clutching his belly, feeling his face grow paler and paler as he traveled along...