Chapter 10: Imprisoned

Jon was taken aback by the strange vision, but he was able to quickly shut his windows and draw the curtains before sitting down on his bed. He was motionless for a few minutes, his brain trying to process what he just saw. Several minutes had elapsed before he ventured another look outside, but the mansion's walls were dark and he realized that the library lights had been turned off. He could still see the manicured lawns because of the few lights that were scattered across the grounds, but there was little else that he could discern outside.

When the moon came clear of the clouds, he saw the shadows casted by the nearby trees on the walls. A light breeze blew and moved the shadows, creating dark figures that in Jon's imagination could easily become howling wolves and flying bats... and giant lizards climbing down walls. Why not? Jon thought. There may also be fireflies around that created the illusion of glowing eyes. Why were they glowing red, like embers? His imagination, aided by the alcohol he had consumed, could have easily supplied that after having seen the painting of the dark creature in the library.

His nerves calmer, Jon got under the blankets and felt the heaviness in the room surround him as he sunk into a dreamless sleep.

Jon was awakened by the bright light entering his room through the windows. He flung the covers out and slid his legs off the bed. He felt a throbbing headache and he massaged his temples. As he was doing this, a weird smell drifted to his nose and worsened his headache. He happened to glance at the pocket of his bag and remembered the garland of sanaria which he placed there when he boarded Gringo's boat. He took it out and immediately found the dried leaves emitting the weird smell. Unsure if he would just dispose of the sanaria with the trash, he decided to just place it on his bedside table.

He found that the bedside lamp was still on as well as the lights on the ceiling. He realized that in his exhaustion, and possibly the effect of the wine, he had slept with the lights on. He flicked off the bedside lamp and stood up to switch off the ceiling lights.

Jon then went to the window and parted the curtains. It was a sunny day and he saw the brilliant blue of the sea way beyond the treetops. The tide was just coming in and he saw the surf making its way to the shore. He opened the windows and breathed the fresh air. He felt reinvigorated after his sleep and already looking forward to the new day. He closed his eyes and listened to the waves crashing on the shore as well as the call of a few migratory birds.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the walls of the mansion in the soft light of the morning. The exterior of the house was made of pink limestone and framed with hardwood. In the sunlight, the walls had a pinkish glow that was pleasing to the eyes. The eerie shadows of the previous night had disappeared and any trace of the creature that appeared to have crossed the wall had gone.

Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me last night, Jon told himself. He recalled the vision of the ember ghost climbing the walls. The more he thought of it, the more he got convinced that it was nothing but a figment of his imagination. Unlikely for a creature of that size to scale those walls, lizard or man, he thought. He shook the unwanted image off his head. 

The ocean breeze reached Jon and he breathed the air that smelt faintly of brine. He imagined himself walking down the beach and feeling the spray of seawater on his skin. Already, he longed for his work at Orsica to be over even when he had just begun. Looking at the wide expanse of trees and the distant sea, he suddenly felt lonely and isolated.

Jon decided to take a shower and prepare for breakfast. After showering, he was about to shave when he realized that there was no mirror in the bathroom. Come to think of it, I haven't seen any mirror around the house, Jon thought. Taking his phone from the bedside table, he opened the camera and used his phone as a mirror. It was cumbersome and he found his razor smeared with his blood. He must have cut himself under the jaw, but could not see the wound with his phone camera.

Jon had just finished shaving when he heard a knock on the door. He opened it and saw Dante's uniformed manservant.

"Mr. Dante asked me to fetch you for breakfast if you had not gotten down by eight o'clock." The manservant Pablo said politely.

"Is it eight o'clock already? I'll go down with you."

Jon followed Pablo down the stairs and through the corridor until they reached the dining room. Jon was surprised that he did not see any of the other staff on their way down. In the dining room, he once again saw that only one place was set at the table. The nervous maid who came to fetch him the previous day was already there and setting down a pitcher of cold water. She withdrew to her corner when Jon had seated.

"Has Mr. Dante come down yet?" Jon asked Pablo who poured cold water on his glass.

"Mr. Dante works at night and sleeps most of the day," Pablo answered. "May I pour you some coffee, Sir?" Pablo proceeded to fill Jon's cup with coffee upon the other's assent.

"Thank you, Pablo. How long have you been working here?" Jon asked with a smile before taking a sip of the coffee.

"Just over a year," came the short reply.

"You don't talk here a lot, do you?" Jon chuckled.

"There isn't much to talk about. We all know what to do, hence no reason to talk."

Jon could tell that Pablo did not want to engage in conversation and wondered whether there were orders for them not to talk to him. From the corner of his eye, Jon could see the growing impatience of the maid where she stood. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and fiddled with her hands.

"I couldn't find a mirror in my room, Pablo," Jon said as he helped himself with the fried egg. "Do you think you can get me one?"

"Mirrors are forbidden in this house. Mr. Dante has superstitions about mirrors and forbade us from bringing them to the house."

Jon thought it difficult to believe for Dante himself to be superstitious after his client ridiculed the superstitions of the locals when they talked about it the previous night, but did not say anything to Pablo.

"I see. I'll just have to make do with my cellphone then." With a final scoop, Jon was able to finish his soup and started buttering his toast. The breakfast was delicious, Jon thought. The scrambled eggs were fluffy and complemented the toast which was still warm and crisp. The brewed coffee was excellent and filled Jon with renewed energy. He again wondered how much expense was needed to sustain such a rich lifestyle on the island.

Just as he was finishing his coffee, Jon took out his phone and found a message from Dante.

Dante: My friend, I hope you were able to sleep well last night. I trust Pablo to provide you with all that you need. Try to get some more rest as we shall resume our work tonight after dinner.

Jon returned the phone in his pocket and drank the second cup of coffee which Pablo poured for him.

"Mr. Dante... He really likes to work at night, does he?" asked Jon.

"Mr. Dante deals in art and the best auction houses are abroad at different time zones," came the reply.

Jon found Pablo's replies emotionless as if reciting memorized statements. It felt as if Dante wrote him a script from which he could get replies for specific questions.

"Does Mr. Dante have a family? Has he ever gotten married?"

"Mr. Dante does not have a wife. Nor does he have any children or relatives to speak of," came the reply.

"This is a really nice house. What can you tell me about the house?" asked Jon, resting his back on the chair to relieve the fullness of his stomach.

"It was designed by Mr. Dante himself and he spared no expense to have it built," came Pablo's reply.

Another scripted answer, thought Jon.

"That was a really delicious breakfast, Pablo. Please thank the cook for me. I also appreciate you waiting on me and also Miss..." Jon looked at the maid who was still standing in the corner and smiled. The maid smiled back, but hastily looked down to avoid his gaze as if embarrassed. Pablo saw the exchange of glances and frowned.

"If you're done, Sir. You can go back to your room and rest. I shall go and fetch you for your lunch or if you prefer, you can have it in your room," offered Pablo.

"Thank you, Pablo. I will just have my lunch here. See you later." Jon stood up and smiled again at the maid who had already stepped forward to clear the table.

As Jon left the dining room, he realized that there would be nothing for him to do until evening. He thought he could go back to his room in the afternoon to rest so that he would be mentally alert when he works with Dante in the evening.

Back at the entrance hall, Jon's senses were once again assaulted by the artworks and decorations that vied for his attention. However, instead of the chaos and the confusion that he felt the previous day, he marveled at the display of opulence as well as admired the genius of the artists whose work adorned the walls. Emulating Dante, Jon imagined the artists as they toiled over the canvas. He wondered what he would need to do to acquire these works, to own a piece of their creators' souls. He viewed the paintings and envied Dante for owning them. To be able to live surrounded by art and without fear of having them taken by thieves – the remoteness of the island itself provided adequate security.

Jon left the entrance hall thinking of Dante's wealth and the vastness of the mansion - a huge house with many rooms and no family to live in them. He wondered how the other rooms were like and what would be in them. He tried opening the door closest to him, but found it locked. He then proceeded to open the next doors that he passed by on his way to his room. They were all locked. For a house on a small island where the only people are Dante and his servants, there seemed to be a lot of locked doors, Jon thought. What secrets could Dante be keeping?

Jon passed his room, but decided not to go inside. He climbed another flight of stairs until he reached a terrace that overlooked most of the island. Aside from the dock at the distance and the cables used to bring people and supplies to the house, Jon could not see any other manmade structures. At the sides of the mansion were precipices from which it would be impossible to descend.

It was only then that Jon realized that the island was in essence a prison and that he was a prisoner.