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[L][Original] Pallas: A Tale of Haunting

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Count Chocolat

PostPosted: Fri Jun 27, 2008 9:58 pm


This is an original story I started writing recently and I'm rather proud of. I would appreciate feedback, since I'm sure it will help me be a better writer.


Chapter 1

"Master"
The boy turned and gazed at the elderly man with empty gray eyes.
"What is it Aubrey?"
"They're coming."
They boy nodded. "Thank you Aubrey."
Pallas...


"We're moving."
I gawked. I didn't want to move!
"Why?" I cried. "We're okay here!"
"Your father has been offered another job," Mom said. "We're moving into a larger house--we promise to give you a bigger room and a place to practice your martial arts."
Mom and Dad forced me to listen to their lecture about moving for the next forty minutes. So far, it sounded like we were moving into a 200-year-old house no one had used in decades. I could already see it. Overgrown weeds, moldy walls, creaky stairs, paint peeling off the crumbly walls. Not exactly my dream house.
"You'll love it Alexei," Dad said. "I'm sure you will."
That's how we ended up moving into an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. As we drove to our new 'home' on that tree-lined road, images of ghost towns flashed into my head. I hadn't seen a single living creature since we'd left the last town, about fifteen miles away.
Soon enough, we arrived at the entrance to the estate. The entire territory had a large wall surrounding it, that ended in what seemed to be a solid gold gate with a golden apple in the middle acting as a lock.
"The owners must have been pretty wealthy to do this," Dad said as he admired the intricate gate from the car. "You don't see a gate carved out of gold every day!"
Just as dad was about to get out of the car to open the gate, it swung open as if by magic. Mom and Dad gave each other a strange look, then we rolled along into the estate on a narrow cobble-stoned path lined with apple trees. What was it with this family and apples?
"There she is," Dad sighed. "Our new home."
The house was nothing like I imagined. It was large, yes, but magnificent in every way. It looked more like a palace than a house, with its perfect paint and golden window sills. There were even rather large balconies emerging from large bed chambers. The grass was neatly trimmed--as if it had just been mowed this morning. Overall, the house looked nowhere near 200.
"Wow."
We all got out of the cramped car--all except for three-year-old Merry, who was fast asleep in her baby chair--and admired the house.
"You never told us we were living here," I said.
"I didn't know it looked like this when we got it."
Mom had told us she'd inherited the house from an old dead relative who hadn't even lived in the house. What luck we'd had that Dad had gotten the job at the same time she'd gotten the house.
My parents smiled goofily, making themselves look like idiots. I rolled my eyes and unbuckled Merry from her turture chair and hauled her out of the car. As I did so, I wondered where our U-Haul truck containing most of our furniture was. They were trailing us just ten minutes before.
"Let's go inside and take a look," Dad said, opening the truck as we rushed to grab our bags and headed toward the ornate front door, me struggling to hold Merry, her bags and my stuff.
The large mahogany door creaked open by itself as we set foor on the grand porch. Just as I stepped through the door frame, I got the feeling like someone other than us was there.
"You have arrived at last," a voice said from above. I jumped in surprise, almost dropping my sister and our stuff to the marble floor.
A grey-haired man wearing a suit walked down the sunlit staircase and smiled politely at my parents. His gaze rested on me and smiled brightly, giving me the creeps.
"I am Aubrey Moreau," the man said with a hint of a French accent. "I am the estate's caretaker and will be seeing to your needs during your stay. I do hope you enjoy inhabiting the mansion for the time being."
Dad put his suitcases down and steped forward. "Hello, I'm Jacob Callaway and this is my wife, Janet," he said, shaking Moreau's hand.
Mom nodded and said, "These are our children, Alexei and Merry."
"Pleased to you all of you," Moreau said. "You may call me whatever you want--preferably Monsieur Moreau."
Monsieur Moreau kept his gaze on me as he spoke. His cat-like eyes gave me the chills, seeming as though he could eat me any second now.
"May I help you with your bags, Master Alexei," he said suddenly, stepping forward to take the stuff I held. "We wouldn't want you to drop your younger sister."
"Uh, sure," I said nervously, allowing him to take my stuff.
"Feel free to explore the house," Monsieur Moreau said, smiling. "I have already arranged you furniture and picked out your rooms to avoid inconvenience. Have a nice stay."
And he dissappeared.
"At least we don't have to unpack," I said anxiously after a long period of awkward silence.
Mom sighed. "Alexei, go upstaris and find Merry's room and put her in the crib," she said. "I don't want you to drop her."
I nodded and walked upstairs. It didn't take me long to find Merry's room. It was in the exact place Mom would have wanted it--right next to hers.
I laid Merry down in her crib gently and walked out of her room, careful not to wake her, and set off to search for my room and explore the house.
I found my room not long after and noticed my stuff was in the same place I'd put it. That kinda creeped me out.
I entered the room and looked around, admiring it. My room was large and bright, very like a modern house. There was a large bed pushed against a wall, covered with girlish covers. I'd have to change that later. My desk was expertly placed by the window, my computer already set up on it. There was a large wardrobe right across from my bed, and with further investigation, found out my clothes were already in there, folded neatly. My books were already in the book shelf conveniently close to my desk.
I smiled. Who'd done all this? I gazed around taking it all in. Right by the bed, there was a large window I could have easily jumped through. There was a seat right there, the closest it got to a balcony.
I headed toward the bed and sat on it and smiled once again. Suddenly, I saw a person--a boy--with waist-long black hair and wearing billowy white clothes sitting on the window seat, staring out the window. I stood and stumbled back, trying to convince myself it was my imagination--but the image of the boy just grew clearer and clearer.
The boy turned and gazed at me, his empty gray eyes windening with shock. He stood and started toward me, raising his hand, as if to touch me.
"Pallas?" he whispered, edging closer, his hand outstretched. "Is that you Pallas? Pallas?"
My hear beat raplidly as the boy edged closer. I was about to scream for help, but my voice caught in my throat as I realized I could suddenly see right through him.
I finally screamed and bolted out of the room, runnign at top speed down the stairs, crashing into Monsieur Moreau.
"Master Alexei, is everything alright?" he asked as he helped me up. "You look as though you've seen a ghost!"
"I did!" I cried, my heart beating at an unnatural pace. "There was a gh-ghost in my room!"
"Oh Master Alexei, there can't possibly be a ghost in your room," Monsieur Moreau laughed. "Your imagination must be working to hard."
When I returned to my room twenty minutes later after alerting my parents about the ghost and being laughed at, there was no mysterious ghost boy by the window.
Pallas...
PostPosted: Thu Jul 17, 2008 6:39 pm


Chapter 2

The ghost boy didn't show up again that summer. I was glad. I really didn't want to share a room with a ghost.
He'd called me Pallas. I had no idea who Pallas was. I'd looked it up online, searched through countles tomes I'd found in the attic--even asked Monsieur Moreau. But nothing. And that intrigued me even more. Who was Pallas? Who was that boy I'd seen? In a strange and crazy way, I wanted him to appear again. Just to answer my questions and put my mind at ease.
"This is great," Mom commented one day at breakfast. "You're finally showing interest in your family history Alexei. I'm really happy."
I sighed and brushed my dark bangs off my face. I couldn't tell anyone the real reason I had pored through countless accounts this summer. They'd laugh, just like they had at first. Only Merry had beleived me, and I couldn't even tell her or she'd run off crying in fear.
"The Bielschowsky family history is one of the most tragic and ironic you can find," Monsieur Moreau suddenly said as he walked by on mystery business. "It's no wonder Master Alexei is interested."
The elderly caretaker smiled at me, his cat-like eyes lingering on me a little too long. Monsieur Moreau had the strange custom of adressing each of us formally, such as Miss and Mister. But I was the only 'Master'. The man seemed especially courteous to me. Dad teased me a lot because of it. But I had a feeling it had to do with this 'Pallas' thing.
"That's true," Mom said. "If it weren't for the fact that there's evidence to match, I wouldn't have beleived any of it."
I stared down at my plate as Monsieur Moreau walked away and wondered what had happened that was so tragic. I hadn't found anything out of the ordinary and I might have missed something in my search for this 'Pallas'. I wondered what had happened to Pallas and that boy. It couldn't have been something ordinary.
"Mom, did you ever hear about someone named Pallas?" I asked suddenly.
"Palace?"
"No, Pallas."
Mom seemed to try to remember for a bit, and then she shook her head. "Nothing comes to mind. Sorry honey."
"Thanks anyway," I said, getting up and putting the dishes in the sink. Who washed that, who knew, but everytime I came back, it was washed for me.
I climbed up the stairs and jogged to my room to go back to my research. I only had a week before going back to school, and I wanted to find as much information before I drowned in school work.
Once I entered, I got the shock of my life. Standing in front of the window was the same boy I'd seen just a month before, gazing out. I stood in the doorway, terrified, unable to move, unable to speak.
"Pallas," the boy said calmly. "Is that you Pallas?"
The boy turned and gazed at me with soft gray eyes. He smiled sadly and stepped forward. I was too scared to move away, or say anything to the boy who approached me.
"Have you come at last? Why now, of all times?" The boy spoke softly, as if not to scare me any more than he had already. "And why as a human? Pallas, answer, please."
The boy stepped closer still, being a mere foot away from me now. I could now see he wasn't quite a 'boy'--he looked more seventeen and a lot more mature than that still. He reminded me a lot of someone--of me. The thought sent shivers up and down my spine.
"Who are you?" I choked out, my voice shaky. "Why are you here?"
The ghost stepped back, shocked. "You don't remember me, Pallas?" he asked. "Don't you remember me, your big brother?"
My heart beat rapidly in my chest as the ghost stepped forward once again. "Who are you?" I repeated. "Tell me who you are first!"
The ghost sighed. "I am Zero," he told me softly. "Zero Matthäus, heir to the Bielschowsky-Diermissen Estate."
I gawked, unbeleiving. Bielshcowsky-Diermissen? I hadn't know about the last part of the name. And--hadn't the heir been a lot older?
"Pallas! You know very well I am heir! Once Father died, I was named the next owner!" Zero cried.
I nodded nervously, afraid he'd do something that might leave me in a worse condition.
"Pallas? Are you afraid of me?" Zero asked. He looked like he was about to cry. "I know you know I would never do anything to harm you Pallas! I can't do anything to hurt you, my dear brother! You know that!"
As I was about to speak, I felt extreme clod on my cheek, followed by excrutiating pain. I saw Zero's fingers stroking my cheek affectionately, and noticed he was touching me. As my currently slow-working brain put two and two together, I realized I was in pain and that the cold an pain came from the ghost's touch and jumped away immediately.
"Zero!" I cried, my body suddenly jolted awake and out of my petrified state by the pain I could still feel. "I'm not Pallas! I'm not your brother!"
"But--you--Pallas--" Zero stuttered, looking it at me with confusion. "Of course you are Pallas! You're my brother!"
I shook my head. "I'm not Pallas--I'm Alexei. Alexei Callaway," I said, trying to get the ghost to understand I was not his brother.
"I understand well you are born under another name--but you are my Pallas," Zero told me. "You look just like he did when he was alive."
I'd guessed Pallas had died already, but it still shocked me to hear it. Did that mean Pallas had died before Zero? Then, that meant--
"Pallas--why won't you admit it? I'll keep your secret safe."
For a split second, as I gazed at Zero's face and saw sad hope reflected on his face, I wished I was Pallas. But, I couldn't lie to him and tell him I was his departed brother. That would have been far too cruel.
"I'm sorry Zero," I said. "But I'm not your brother. I'm not Pallas, just Alexei."
Zero hung his head in a certain emotion between sadness and shame. I could see tears forming in his eyes, tears that as soon as they rolled off his face, dissappeared into thin air.
"If you are not Pallas, then who are you exactly?" Zero whispered. "And why do you wear Pallas's face?"
"I told you, I'm Alexei Callaway," I said, stepping back slightly. "I think I might be related to you and your brother. That would explain my likeness to him."
Once I had gotten used to Zero, I forgot what I had been afraid of in the first place. All Zero wanted was to see his brother. I could sympathize with him, if ever so slightly. If anything happened to Merry, I'd be devastated. It's the way of sliblings. You may hate them with your entire being, but when they're gone, you (usually) miss them terribly.
Zero sighed. "If Pallas is not here, then where is he?" he asked me.
"I don't know," I said. "He may have moved on."
Zero closed his eyes for a moment, before turning back to me with calm eyes.
"Listen," Zero said, staring at me with those serious gray eyes. "I now pledge to you my never-ending love you you, my dear Alexei.

+++++++
I really wish I could get some feedback--do you like it or hate it completely?--because then I feel like no one wants to read this, and I stop posting because of it. And if you don't want it here, tell me.

Count Chocolat


NaruSasuiscool

PostPosted: Tue Dec 02, 2008 5:55 pm


im loveing it so far please keep it up
PostPosted: Tue Dec 02, 2008 8:20 pm


hiya ochisan-sama! You know how much I love it so keep up the good work!

krazii13

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