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fandomweekly2021-04-19 01:19 pm
quatorze) wrote in fandomweekly2021-04-19 01:19 pm
Entry tags:
[#081] Just a Room (Original)
Theme Prompt: Haunted House
Title: Just a Room?
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG/none
Bonus: No (cannot remember what it was...)
Word Count: 774
=====
Rhedda shook his head. "You don't understand. I cannot go in there."
"Why not? It's just a room."
"It's not 'just a room'. Maybe to you, but not to me."
Beringen leaned back against the ornate railing and tilted his head. "To me it's most likely just another gloomy room, with far too big furniture and horrible curtains and ugly wallpapers and windows that haven't been opened for a far too long time. You've already showed so many of those here, so tell me why this one is different?"
Rhedda bit his lip, arms crossed so tightly that he was nearly hugging himself.
"Come on," Beringen tried again. "I cannot understand if I don't know, and I won't know unless you tell me. Why is this room special?"
"It's... it used to be my grandfather's room. He died there." Rhedda shivered visibly. "And when my father was displeased with me he'd make me sit there."
"All right." Beringen stepped to the door and glanced at Rhedda. "You don't need to come in, but I will. I'm not going to have any ghost rooms here."
He pressed the handle and the door opened with an unhappy squeal.
"Oh my..." Beringen's eyes widened as he looked around, squinting to see better in the scant light. "This... this is just plain sick."
It was big just like every other room in this mansion, the old family estate of the noble Marr g'Eyam family, and yet it seemed to close in upon him. Everything in it was dark, heavy, oversize. The walls were covered with a no doubt very costly fabric wallpaper of a black and violet pattern, matching with the drapings of a huge four-poster bed. There were a few paintings, too: a landscape showing a wooded mountainside just about to be drenched by a huge thundercloud, a hunting scene with a pack of dogs busy tearing some hapless animal to pieces, and an old man dressed in black and peering down at Beringen with a stern look on his face. An enormous armchair decorated with carved vulture claws was positioned next to a similarly adorned writing desk that however was hardly meant for writing upon, as it had been placed in the darkest corner of the room. The gloom was completed by very complicated velvet and brocade curtains that all but completely covered the windows. In the tiny amount of light they let in, he could see that everything was covered with a fine layer of dust.
Beringen took a deep breath. In spite of the size of the room it felt like there was too little air inside it, and he turned towards the windows when something in the corner of his eye startled him.
"Huh..." He walked closer to the massive wardrobe that looked large enough to hide a few corpses, and looked critically up towards the thing sitting on top of it. A huge stuffed owl glared menacingly back at him with its glass eyes, wings half spread and beak open, as if ready to swoop down on him. "You're one ugly bugger, aren't you?"
No wonder Rhedda didn't want to come in, Beringen thought. He could only try to imagine what it would be like for a scared child, especially one as sensitive and high-strung as Rhedda, to be pushed here as a punishment for something he had or hadn't done. And, from what he'd gathered from scattered bits and pieces he had heard since they'd got to know each other, Rhedda's immensly rich and noble father had been a particularly unpleasant and cruel man, so it was quite possible that half the time his only son hadn't even known what he was being punished for. Such a far cry from the home where Beringen had grown up, one in a swarm of brothers that their never well-to-do parents still had somehow managed to feed and raise and educate enough to suit their station.
Beringen thought about all those days they'd spent making mischief and learning to ride and use the sword; yes, they had scuffled with each other but if push came to shove he knew they would always have each others' back. He took one glance around the room and could almost see Rhedda as a child, a slim boy with pale skin and sharp features and raven-black hair, trembling in a dark corner under the predatory stare of the owl.
He shook his head. This definitely was one horrid room, but it was not to remain that way! He pressed his lips together, crossed the distance to the window with determined steps and began to pull the curtains aside.
Title: Just a Room?
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG/none
Bonus: No (cannot remember what it was...)
Word Count: 774
=====
Rhedda shook his head. "You don't understand. I cannot go in there."
"Why not? It's just a room."
"It's not 'just a room'. Maybe to you, but not to me."
Beringen leaned back against the ornate railing and tilted his head. "To me it's most likely just another gloomy room, with far too big furniture and horrible curtains and ugly wallpapers and windows that haven't been opened for a far too long time. You've already showed so many of those here, so tell me why this one is different?"
Rhedda bit his lip, arms crossed so tightly that he was nearly hugging himself.
"Come on," Beringen tried again. "I cannot understand if I don't know, and I won't know unless you tell me. Why is this room special?"
"It's... it used to be my grandfather's room. He died there." Rhedda shivered visibly. "And when my father was displeased with me he'd make me sit there."
"All right." Beringen stepped to the door and glanced at Rhedda. "You don't need to come in, but I will. I'm not going to have any ghost rooms here."
He pressed the handle and the door opened with an unhappy squeal.
"Oh my..." Beringen's eyes widened as he looked around, squinting to see better in the scant light. "This... this is just plain sick."
It was big just like every other room in this mansion, the old family estate of the noble Marr g'Eyam family, and yet it seemed to close in upon him. Everything in it was dark, heavy, oversize. The walls were covered with a no doubt very costly fabric wallpaper of a black and violet pattern, matching with the drapings of a huge four-poster bed. There were a few paintings, too: a landscape showing a wooded mountainside just about to be drenched by a huge thundercloud, a hunting scene with a pack of dogs busy tearing some hapless animal to pieces, and an old man dressed in black and peering down at Beringen with a stern look on his face. An enormous armchair decorated with carved vulture claws was positioned next to a similarly adorned writing desk that however was hardly meant for writing upon, as it had been placed in the darkest corner of the room. The gloom was completed by very complicated velvet and brocade curtains that all but completely covered the windows. In the tiny amount of light they let in, he could see that everything was covered with a fine layer of dust.
Beringen took a deep breath. In spite of the size of the room it felt like there was too little air inside it, and he turned towards the windows when something in the corner of his eye startled him.
"Huh..." He walked closer to the massive wardrobe that looked large enough to hide a few corpses, and looked critically up towards the thing sitting on top of it. A huge stuffed owl glared menacingly back at him with its glass eyes, wings half spread and beak open, as if ready to swoop down on him. "You're one ugly bugger, aren't you?"
No wonder Rhedda didn't want to come in, Beringen thought. He could only try to imagine what it would be like for a scared child, especially one as sensitive and high-strung as Rhedda, to be pushed here as a punishment for something he had or hadn't done. And, from what he'd gathered from scattered bits and pieces he had heard since they'd got to know each other, Rhedda's immensly rich and noble father had been a particularly unpleasant and cruel man, so it was quite possible that half the time his only son hadn't even known what he was being punished for. Such a far cry from the home where Beringen had grown up, one in a swarm of brothers that their never well-to-do parents still had somehow managed to feed and raise and educate enough to suit their station.
Beringen thought about all those days they'd spent making mischief and learning to ride and use the sword; yes, they had scuffled with each other but if push came to shove he knew they would always have each others' back. He took one glance around the room and could almost see Rhedda as a child, a slim boy with pale skin and sharp features and raven-black hair, trembling in a dark corner under the predatory stare of the owl.
He shook his head. This definitely was one horrid room, but it was not to remain that way! He pressed his lips together, crossed the distance to the window with determined steps and began to pull the curtains aside.