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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1118199-BLACK-MOON
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Mystery · #1118199
One dream, One night, one dark past with infinite possiblities over the future
Black Moon
Black Moon
A slow humming noise echoed to awake him from his sleep, On opening his eyes he looked around to find nothing out of the ordinary. Trying not to be distracted and to complete his sleep he once more closed his eyes but the noise echoed again distracting him more. He sat up to listen carefully from where it was coming but it was vain, it was too low for him to make out what it was. Stepping out of his bed he wore his robe as he walked towards the door. He entered the hardly illuminated corridor. He looked up and down the corridor but he couldn’t place the source of the sound.
Barefooted he walked to his left through the semi-circular corridor that connected his room with his father’s. As he walked on the red soft carpet the humming grew louder and louder. He increased his pace, but it seemed like he was not moving at all. He looked down the ground was soft and he felt it but as he looked up, the corridor looked like a long dark never ending tunnel. Confused, he stopped to look around, the walls were unspecific, and he knew it was his house but couldn’t make out as to where he was. Once more he began to walk but soon stopped in front of a wooden door that he didn’t know existed. He was about to open it when there was aloud cry, startled he moved away from the door. The cry of a women in pain and it was so loud that he had to cover his ears and move away from the door.
“Stop it!” He shouted but it was no use, after a few seconds there was complete silence. As he tried to control his fear he closed his eyes. He oculd hear his heart beat fast, his hands go numb and his body wet. Gathering his courage he asked,
“Who is it?”
There was dead silence. Thinking as to what was beyond that door he moved toward the door, slowly twisting the knob he opened the door that made a cracking noise. He stood stiff in fear at the door, his eyes roamed inside the room but he didn’t recognized it. He made his move to forward leaving the door opened. He looked around to see the room with some old furniture, a single bed and two large windows that stood in front of him. He then moved to the center of the room, there was complete silence.
“Who is it?” He asked in a low scared voice. Suddenly, with a bang the door behind him closed subsequently there was a strong wind. It was so fast that he could keep his eyes open, he held his hand before them to see the source of the wind but it was no use. It hit him had and in panic he moved towards the door and twisted the knob, but it seemed stuck. He tried to pull open the door but it refused to open.
“Ahh… Help!” He shouted banging the door.
Suddenly the wind stopped, he glared around in the room catching his breath. His hand was still on the knob.
“Beware!!” A loud horrifying voice said, it scared him to such extent that he twisted the knob pulled open the door and ran out but his feet got stuck and he fell on his face.
He wrenched himself out of the nightmare to sit up in his bed. Roumoult looked around in the room to see everything normal it was then he felt his skin cold and covered with sweet his heart was beating fast. He tried to catch his breath.
“Whew, what a dream?” he said turning to look at the time.

Newburgh. Jan 2000. 7.30pm.

Roumoult Cranston drove his brand new BMW to his grandfather's residence in Newburgh. He was once more late for family get-together.
He was the only son of Fred Cranston, a millionaire by inheritance. In his 20's, he stood six feet tall; medium built, green eyes, oval face, dark brown hair parted to the right with small flicks that covered his forehead. He was trendy and stylish, loved cars and adventure.

He admired the scenery as he drove down the amazingly smooth road. He rolled up the windows, as the drop in temperature was evident. He hardly visited Grandfather's place; he had no idea why but he was always uncomfortable. Something in that house bothered him. He didn’t know if it was his grandfather or his own conscious. May be it was because his grandfather never approved of him becoming a lawyer. Nevertheless against all odds he worked hard and opened a law firm, Today it was one of the best-known firms in the city. But even today, after his achievements he was criticized for not following the family heritage.
The road was barren surrounded by trees. His family issues started to cloud his mind again. His family was a celebrity they were royalty by inheritance but he was a unusual brand of emblem according to his grandpa. His interests had led him to the city morgue where his best friend William Sterling, a Medical Examiner currently worked. They had been friends since high school but preferred their own separate ways. But somehow as time went by they always managed to meet, usually due to their similar interest in distinctive cases. He smiled at his thoughts & looked around to admire the exquisite peaceful Saturday evening.

His interests were different, always since childhood. His interest in solving mysteries had made him a kind of anomaly in the Cranston family and society. Most of the rich boys he knew preferred to play safe and run a normal family business or follow their family heritage. Family heritage he respected but not being bonded or to think only inside the box. His long run behind unknown anomalies had created a different image of him, he was not a shadow of the Cranston’s he was an emblem. At least that was what he thought. But for his family his interests were puzzling eccentricity.

His grandpa's place was taken care by Alfred Hallway, a stocky man in his 50's, smart, intelligent and highly up to date man. This reunion included his two cousins, Mark Johnson and Chet Johnson, Mark handled his father's business in Atlanta and Chet was a Stock Broker, Frankly Roumoult thought that he looked more like wrestler than a broker, physically. There was a wide smile over his face that immediately disappeared when he hear a loudly eye piercing whistling sound. Unexpectedly from nowhere a train appeared at the approaching crossroads. He at once thrust the brakes. The tyres screamed creating marks on the road leaving a long trail of smoke. He pressed his foot as firmly as he could and that instant the vehicle halted only a few inches away from the fast moving train almost throwing him off his seat, his chest hit the steering.
“Oh.." He cried out, as he felt a distinct pain in his chest. He held his chest for a few minutes. He tried to breath slowly as it made him feel better, he looked up to see the train but it was too fast and then vanished. He felt his hands cold as he sat in the car staring at the intersection in complete darkness. His heartbeat was quicker, he touched his chest with his hands, the pain was gone now.
"What the hell? He asked himself. He gasps for air as he stepped out of vehicle.
"There was never an railway crossroad here." He said trying to remember but then thought may be they built a new one he didn’t knew of.
Still in the state of insensibility he walked towards the crossroad, but froze as his eyes stared at the road, there was no railway track! He shook his head thinking that may be he was wrong. . He looked on both sides of the road there was no track.
"Ok, this is not right.” He said thinking, “I don’t remember seeing any trains over here!” he added. “Oh this is heavy.” He said holding his head.
"I am going insane or what?" he said as he stood there staring at the roads. At this time he was uncertain whether he was daydreaming or the unpleasant incident was for real. His mind couldn't deduce as to what had happened. He was too distracted with fear to move. The sharp bright beams of the car’s headlights were the only illumination in the area.
“Where did the train come from? Why did I see it? This never happened before." He thought, deep in his mind he was very mystified
After a few moments as he knew there was no use standing in the middle of the road he returned back to his car. Behind the wheel he thought about the train and looked up and down the roads to make sure no other trains were approaching, but could they there were no tracks. He let out a long breath and with a heavy heart started the car. Building his courage he put the car into gear, Slowly he released the clutch and increased the acceleration. The automobile moved and crossed the intersection quickly, after the incident Roumoult drove more suspiciously and cautiously.
He glanced at his watch that showed 8.45 pm when he neared the house that stood frozen in the shadows. The moonlight enlightened some part of the house. The residence was extremely old fashioned made of large stones and big rectangular multipaned windows; the walls were irregular and never decorated nor painted in all theses years. The gray stones gave the house a black impression in the hours of darkness and the rough surface of the walls gave it a spooky manifestation.
He stopped his car in front of the huge 6 to 7 feet iron bar gates. He was about to step out of the car when he heard a loud cracking clatter. He looked around suspiciously and his eyes stared at the slowly opening iron doors.
"A night full of surprises"
He turned on the ignition and drove through the extensive driveway. Small out-of-date lamps standing on both sides highlighted the driveway. He parked his car with a few other. He was glad to reach safely. He locked his car and walked on the cement tiles in the direction of the door, and moved up the small number of steps to the main entrance and was about to knock as almost immediately doors opened.
He froze. Bewildered by it he stood expressionlessly till the doors opened totally. He waited for a moment, when nothing appeared he gradually walked inside and turned around to see. He saw two young maids held the door open for him.
"Ladies!" He said smiling as he turned his face harden, the train episode had left him paniky.
Of course he had been in the house many times but it never failed to grasp his attention and spook him simultaneously. He entered the majestic well-lightened hall; at its end was a twisted set of steps that led to the upper two floors. The first one was used but the second was usually vacant. He looked up through the old stylish skylight to see the clear dark sky. The wooden railing marked the passage of the 1st and the next floor. The residence was truly made up of two wings, the South and the North wing. But the South wing had been shut down long time ago. As a child he was told to that it was abandoned and forbidden part of the house. But as he grew, he understood even his father knew very litte about the South Wing. The ground floor of the North wing was made up of a big Living room, kitchen and a study. Servant lodgings were separate at the rear of the house. The First person to greet him was his own father.
"Hello Son, looks like you are late again,” Fred said coming towards him and they hugged.
Fred Frank Cranston was an average built man, with blue green eyes; his round face was forever packed with expressions and passion to live. Despite the fact that he was approaching his 50's physical condition was first-class and still worked hard. The only thing he was bothered about was Roumoult because he thought his son was not dependable. He was about his son’s stature and had silky organized black hair. On the whole he was an icon of a royalty.
"Sorry Dad, Traffic!" Roumoult answered.
His father glared at him,
“Traffic!! Oh come’ on son this is not New York City." Fred responded he said patting his shoulders, "Please tell me when are you going to be punctual?" He asks.
"May be in the next millennium, " Roumoult answered winking. Fred threw his head back as he laughed and they walked together to the dinning room,
The Dinning room or hall was large with a large traditional wooden made table with several tables on one of which they Mark Johnson smiling towards the Cranston.
"Hello, How are you?" He said on seeing Roumoult.
Mark Johnson a 26 yrs short man, brown eyes, brown hair, round face, a dull appearance. He lived in Atlanta Cranston house and handled the business over there but was dependent on Fred Cranston for all his work.
“I am fine.” Roumoult answered diplomatically.
"Are you alright?" Mark asked out of the blue.
" What makes you think that I am not?" Roumoult asked getting slightly astounded and annoyed.
"You are not in any sort of crisis for last two weeks, things have been very… quiet lately. " he asked playfully.
Roumoult glared at Mark; Fred grinned.
"You and your doctor friend identified a corpse. That gang hunted you down for 2 days. Oh my god… you had to disappear from all of our sites for two days. If I would have been in your place I would have devastated. Tell me, Do you want to be on the hit list of every murder and drug dealer in this city? So I was just curious what you were doing these days. " Mark ended sighing.
"Oh!!! I am so sorry I disappointed you" Roumoult answered smiling. He sat on one of the chairs of the dining table.
"There you are...” Chet said in a piercing heartless tone. The heavy weight, well shaved man, with red large cheeks; brunette fuzzy hair with protruding eyes walked towards Roumoult who got up to shake hands with him.
“Well, I am rather amazed to see you here, last time I knew you were in Switzerland." Roumoult asked.
" I came for agreement with my client" Chet answered.
"Roumoult did you know that we have some unexpected guest today?" Fred said interrupting their discussion. Roumoult glanced at his father slyly crocking one of his eyebrows.
"Oh yes Maria and Jennifer, Where are you girls?" Chet called out.
Roumoult eyes quickly rolled from Chet to his father, who couldn't help smiling. Two women stepped out of the kitchen with glasses in their hands. They walked towards the men.
"Ladies, meet Mr. Roumoult Cranston" Chet introduced.
Roumoult stood hands and greeted the ladies.
“This is Maria and Jennifer”
Maria was 5.6 tall, black hair; blue eyes round face and wore a red dress, which went along with her body. Jennifer was shorter than Maria wore blue dress, blond hair that fell over her shoulders; her brown big almond shaped eyes glared at Roumoult as if probing through him. Her smile was excellent and eye-catching. After the brief introduction Chet showed the women out of the dinning room.
"Ok, Dad what's on your mind?" Roumoult asked when he saw his father's face. Fred instantly busted in to laughter as his son stared at him impatiently.
"What?"
"Well I don't suppose you will approve but those girls liked you. Why do you think Chet rushed them out of this room?" Fred said in a low voice but subsequently laughed loudly. Roumoult was about to argue when an old tired voice called from behind.
"Where were you young man? I have been waiting for you." Frank Cranston called from behind.
Roumoult turned to see his grandpa. Frank Cranston, now in his 70's, with gray French beard, his face was crammed with wrinkles slowly walked towards his young grandson. Following his wife's death about 20 years ago he had lost all his charisma. His eyes were tiny and walked at a snail's pace. But contrast to other old citizens he thought he was better.
" Tell me why are you late again?" He asked frustrated.
"Well Grandpa it takes practice" Roumoult replied and hugged him.

Soon Roumoult left his father and grandfather talking to explore the residence as usual. The walls of the dinning hall were spectacular with white with figures of angels hovering around the clouds. As he walked into the living rooms he never failed to notice, the interiors of the place. Walls of living room painted white and the floor was covered with carpet. Walking up the stairs he looked around the passageway that led to bedrooms on left side. He could see the living from the gallery of the first floor. He looked at the flooring it was very well maintained. Soon he returned to the ground floor to stare at the amazing the wooden furnished widespread comfortable library. It had a pleasing appearance. He felt like a mind could mend down to read.
"Well, you like the house." Frank commented on seeing his grandson fascinated by the house.
"No just the library" Roumoult answered not looking at him.
"Then why not stay?" Frank asked.
"Grandpa you know my answer will be no, why do you ask?” He paused and then added, “I think the Fred Cranston house has a better library."
" I am very pleased with my metropolitan life." He added followed by a tensed silence.
"Ah, yes, here you will find no trouble " Frank said and then added, " The day your father told me that you joined the law college I knew you were trouble. Thank god you don't practice it." Frank said with a profound tone.
"Yes, I run a firm. I guess you are happy about that." Roumoult said slightly disturb over the matter, as he did wish to practice. His eyes moved from one book to another, as he found books to be fascinating especially fiction.
"Well Dad doesn't like it either, he prefers business."
"Yes and I seem to agree with him" Frank answered.
"I know" Roumoult added in a cold tone.
"Any plans for the future?" Frank asked.
His grandson couldn’t help smiling.
"Yeah planning to set up a detective agency."
There was brief silence.
"I don't believe that is a good idea, because already you and your friend are in lot of trouble." Frank said in a worried tone.
"Oh please!! Grandpa we need to do something in our lives, something different than you guys did!!" Roumoult remarked turning and walking out of the library.
"Roumoult, don't say that! Everything here belongs to you. What else would you ask for?" Frank argued following him as fast as he could.
"You really wish to know the truth," Roumoult said instantaneously stopping and turning to face his grandfather who was still at the door of the library.
"Yes!!" Frank replied,stopping and thinking whether he was ready for the answer.
"Well here it is, I am not captivated by big business. I made nothing here or in the Cranston Empire and honestly my heart is not in it!" Roumoult explained, turned walked towards the dinning room. Frank followed grudgingly. He tried to catch up with him but he was too fast.
"Now slow down son, this is not over."
"Oh yes it is" Roumoult replied loudly raising his right hand.
"Oh no it is not" Frank yelled back.
They reached the lobby but none of them had given up. They soon entered the dinning room where Fred was already seated in one of the chairs. Roumoult got seated close to Fred.
"I don't appreciate this, you are the image of your forefathers and you are not proud of it," Frank argued sitting besides Roumoult who rolled his eyes. Frank was very traditional when it came to family ethics.
"Oh! No not again" Fred commented shaking his head.
" Quiet... you have spoiled him." Frank yelled at Fred
"Me?" Fred asked astonished throwing his hands in the air.
"Yes. I told you not to go to the city but you wanted to expand the business. You must have left Roumoult with me!" Frank said furiously.
Fred arched his eyebrows.
"Are you forgetting something, he is my son!" Fred yelled being territorial. He glanced at Roumoult who seemed to be enjoying the dispute.
"Roumoult do you know what is the real problem, your generation doesn't know how to take responsibility." Frank said coldly. Roumoult raised his eyebrows and shook his head and further said leaning towards his grandfather,
"You know, I know what is the real problem here.”
"Oh yeah what?" Frank asks.
"Generation gap!" Roumoult almost shouted and then folded his arms pinpointing that the conversation had ended. Fred smiled.

By 10.00pm, everybody had started dinner. They talked about business, shares, and the house in Atlanta. They talked much among themselves, Roumoult just nodded when ever anyone looked at him. He sat between his father and grandfather, His cousin were besides Fred and the ladies were seated parallel to the guys. For about 10 minutes no one spoke.
"So how is your firm?" Chet asked unexpectedly looking at Roumoult.
Turning his head to his right, Roumoult had to bend forward to see Chet.
"It's fine. Why do you ask?" HE inquired choosing his words.
"I want to know, how is that you fall into trouble but your firm doesn't?" Chet ask
Now there was silence again.
"Where is this conversation going, Chet?" Roumoult asked controlling his fury.
"No where, I just wanted to begin a discussion with you since you are extremely quiet" Chet replied.
"You have a criminal law firm that sounds exciting" Maria said excited.
" It's a corporate firm not allied with criminal dealings." Roumoult corrected her.
"Oh! I see," She answered thinking.
"The beauty of this place is over tempting." Mark commented changing the subject, "The open space packed with trees and not to mention the tranquility."
"Yah, the only thing that trouble me in this place is it's ancient and creepy." Roumoult commented, but suddenly his face fell as he knew his comment will drive attention. Suddenly all eyes very on him.
"Oh please." Frank protested.
Roumoult sighed.
Fred warns him with a long stare.
“So how was your drive out of the city?" Frank asks Roumoult. Fred now stared at Frank as he had just stopped his son from starting an argument all over again.
Roumoult thought about the train but decided to say nothing. If he were to tell them they would certainly laugh.
"It was smooth." Roumoult replied thoughtfully.
"Mr. Cranston this is a very attractive residence, aged but well perseved and welcoming." Maria complimented smiling.
"Thank you." Franks said proudly.
Now it was Roumoult who couldn't help smiling.
"You don't concur" Maria asked on noticing his expression.
He glanced at her but said nothing as Fred was already glaring at him.
"Well" Maria said indicating that she sought a response.
"Well if you insist. I don't find this house… as enchanting as you do." Roumoult answered.
"Yeah right" Frank said folding his hands.
"Don't' start, please" Fred said interrupting them.
Roumoult looked at the ceiling.
"Mr. Cranston, I have constantly heard about the North wing from Chet but he told me about a South wing" Maria asked continuing the discussion.
Now Roumoult looked at his Grandpa.
"Well it was closed long time ago" Frank answered frigidly but glanced at Roumoult who was studying him. There was a cold silence for a moment. Chet just stared at his plate.
"Why?" Roumoult asked directly breaking the silence.
Both Fred and Frank stared at him.
"Roumoult, what did I tell you in New York." Fred scolded.
"I don't remember anything." Roumoult answered smiling.
"I thought you were not concerned about the house." Frank comments.
Roumoult turned his head to his Grandpa and said,
"Well I did make inquiries about it and they said it was…. Haunted." Roumoult said pausing and in taunting tone.
Quickly, Frank’s face turn red in anger and his eyes glared at his grandson.
"What? Do you also think that it is cursed?" Frank asked aggravated.
Fred frowned.
"I don't know, I don't hang around this house, you do" Roumoult replied joking.
Everyone grinned.
"It is not haunted nor cursed!" Frank protested speaking loudly.
"I never said it was cursed, you did. There is no cause to yell; all I asked was a straightforward question. I don't know why you are so angry." Roumoult said sympathetically. He liked to taunt him about the house.
"That question cannot be answered " Frank responded Stubbornly
"And why not?" Roumoult ask.
"Roumoult that's enough." Fred scolded again.
"Dad, why are you always envious when I am having fun?" Roumoult said mischievously. He liked to trouble his grandfather. This was the only subject in which he could aggravate Frank.
Everybody express amusement but Frank didn't reply. Fred looked towards his father and then his son. The truth was he was stuck between them. Frank controlled his fury. It was then there was a shrill; it was the phone everyone heard it but no one moved. Alfred without delay walked towards the study. Everybody still was interested in the subject but Frank didn't break.
"Excuse me, Master Cranston there is a call for you" Alfred said returning to the dinning room.
"Come’ on Grandpa, it is just a easy question" Roumoult said ignoring Alfred.
"Let it go." Fred said with care.
"There is a call for you young master!" Alfred repeated.
"I know, Alfred" Roumoult replied and got up unexpectedly and walk towards the study.

"Hello" Roumoult said answering the phone.
"Hi Roumoult, How are you?" William Sterling said from the other end of the line.
"I am fine. What's up?" Roumoult ask directly.
"Nothing, I called to make sure you reached in one piece." William answered grinning.
"Why do you say that?" Roumoult ask.
"Because your ship can change its course anytime." Will answer pleased. Roumoult let the comment slip by.
"Well thank you, I will take that as a compliment." he answered and then added “William, please tell me the real reason you called.”
"Today a dead body came in, it disturbed me a lot." William admitted straight away.
"Is it your case?" Roumoult asked directly.
"No" William answered instantly.
"Then, why the hell are you concerned?" Roumoult snapped.
"You know, I am forever curious."
"Did you know curiosity killed the cat?"
"And it also killed the mouse." Will replied hastily then added "Roumoult just listen to me alright."
"Ok shoot" Roumoult answered shaking his he as he knew he had no other alternative.
"The body's face was damage badly, perhaps to hide identification." William reported.
"Nothing new about that." Roumoult said without thinking.
"Yeah, but the reason for death is unquestionably by crushing of the cervical vertebrae, they were entirely 'crushed', speculate how could that be?"
"Wait a minute, cervical vertebrae are in the neck right" Roumoult asked confirming.
"Yep" William answered
"That sound's natural, some one just straggled him." Roumoult responded.
"May be you didn't listen when I said 'CRUSHED'." William repeated stressing the word.
"Crushed" Roumoult repeated dazzled.
"Yeah, crushed that's what I have been telling you, bud head." William replied restlessly.
"Yes, right and you are, my comrade." Roumoult said smiling but in his mind gave the situation at thought. He knew if he too would start thinking about the issue it might raise his buddy’s curiosity and that would definitely lead to trouble.
"Hmm… It's a tragic that I didn't get to do the autopsy." William said grimly after a short silence.
"Oh, Who got it?" Roumoult ask basically knowing the answer.
"Dr Jason" William replied.
"Oh I see" Roumoult commented.
Dr. Jason was the man who was straightforward, the boss’s right hand, calm, overconfident and a bookworm. He would by no means think out of the box and was uncomfortable with sharing information.
"Why not you?" Roumoult asked.
"I have no idea. May be they wishing for this total case be, hush hush." William answered.
"Right, May be because it is unexplained.” Roumoult said thinking.
Again there was a brief silence.
"Well when are you coming back?" William asked changing the subject.
"May be tomorrow or day after. I don't think dad is going to let me go… Nevertheless I need a shore leave." Roumoult replied pausing thinking about the train.
"Well I will tell you about any new progress" Will said
"I think you ought to stay out of this." Roumoult suggested.
"Ha ha, look who is talking? Come’ on where is your sense of adventure?"
"Its on vacation..." Roumoult answered despite of his interest but then something occurred to him
“William, how much exactly are you into this?” He asked seriously.
“Well…”
“Wonderful” Roumoult said knowing the answer.
"Sorry, I saw the corpse and now I have the X ray in my hands." William admitted.
"Wait a minute, you are still in the morgue? William, go home!" Roumoult insisted glancing at his wrist watch.
"I was waiting for the X ray." William answered, "I am on my way home don't worry." He added assuring.
"What, have you been doing there?" Roumoult asked
"Well fulfilling my curiosity." William replied and hung up the phone before Roumoult could say anything. He place the receiver back thinking about the case, but then shook his head trying to dismiss his thoughts.
He got seated without a word and started eating his dinner. Everybody was having desert.
"Who was it?" Frank asked after a few minutes of silence.
"It was William" Roumoult answered without looking at him.
"What happened?" Frank asked without delay.
"Nothing happened Grandpa!" Roumoult replied halfhearted. Frank glanced at Fred who disregarded his look. Frank frowned.

By 10.30pm everybody was on the first floor and getting ready for bed. Roumoult never got answers to his questions. He retards to his bedroom between Chet and Fred's. His eyes roamed around the huge, deluxe room with big rectangular windows, which were covered incompletely with net cream curtains. Through the windows he could see the entire compound and the gate to the far left. His eyes then glared at the white walls to where the double bed laid corresponding to the windows. The ceiling was well decorated with daisy carvings. He signs.
“Just lovely.” He said picking up the remote and turning on the TV. He felt like the room was one of the five star hotels. The eminence of the room was soothing but still he was uncomfortable. To the right side of the bed was a glass sliding door that led to large balcony. He moved and stood in the gallery to look into the marvelous vicinity. It was so calm and vacant. Moon shined bright over the horizon and stretched it illumination over throughout the farscape. He returned indoors and marked the fireplace on the left side of the bed that was well decorated with pictures of dragons on its walls, besides it was an old oak writing table. He sat heavily on the chair that was positioned along the wall. He looked about the room and was convinced that it was not used much. He started watching TV but soon turned it off. He scratched his head and walk toward the rest room. Some how the discussions with his grandpa had left him bothered. He felt like a burden on his shoulder. He didn’t feel free to do anything in his life.

Soon he changed ready to doze, he was quiet tired of all days work followed by the traveling, he jumped on the bed to turn of the lights. He looked around the room in the dark that seem to bother him. He had blue night lamps in his room in New York. He tried a few switching but the bulbs were too large and emitted too much lights, so at last he had to settle in the dark. He looked to his right to the balcony door which was quiet similar to the one in his house, but here he dare not keep it open. He tried to put his thoughts aside and tried adjust with the environment.
“Oh dam this place sucks!”
He closed his eyes; his mind was not at rest but for several minutes tossed and turned but at last fell asleep. Soon every noise in the house died out.
A scratching sound echoed in the house. Roumoult was drawn out of his sleep but ignored it, the scratching noise continued and soon he had to open his eyes. He turned to where it came from only to find it was his door.
“Who is it?” He asked still on his bed feeling sleepy.
“Just go away…” He said disregarding the noise and tries to sleep again but it was constant enough to irritate him. He stepped out of his bed irritated.
“Who is it?” He asked for the last time very annoyed. He felt like hitting the person who was troubling him. But the noise still continued, he looked at his door, who was it or what was it. He moved to the desk to picked one of the large books, then moved to the door he held the book in his right hand and twisted the knob of the door with his left hand. As soon as the lock was released, he felt a push from the other side and something jumped on him. He responded with an outcry and fell down on the floor. After few seconds he saw Bob, his grandpa's dog licking his face.
“Oh, Bob, what the hell are you doing in my room!” Shouted Roumoult. The light from the corridor entered his room in that he saw the dog sitting on his chest. He separated himself from Bob got up and switched on the lights. He watched bob sitting on the floor and waging his tail.
"Woof woof…" Bob barked.
"You..." Roumoult said trying to catch his breath. He had almost forgotten about the dog.
Bob was small with coffee color blooming hair that covered his entire body with small ears and black eyes, which glared at him with love. His tail was small but bushy. Due to his hair none of Bobs parts were visible except his tiny legs. On the whole he was a charming, little dog. Bob at all times troubled Roumoult. He loved him. Bob habitually troubled him to gain attention. Whenever Roumoult would arrive Bob would pursue him ubiquitously.
" Ok Bob get out of my room" Roumoult said pointing his finger outside.
Instead of going away Bob ran to jump on Roumoult's bed and lay down. He knew he hated that.
"Bob!" Roumoult yelled.
"Well looks like you found yourself a companion after all…" Fred commented as he entered the room.
Roumoult turned to his father and answered.
"Dad, this is not hilarious."
"All I am saying that if you can't have a girlfriend, a dog is even better at least he won't deceive you" Fred said insultingly.
"Dad!"
At the same time Bob barked.
"See even Bob agrees." Fred said amused waving his arm towards Bob. Roumoult looked angrily at his father.
"Ok ok, come’ on Bob looks like you are out of here."
He patted the dog taking him into his arms. Bob licked his face.
“Ok boy…” Fred said smiling.
He carried Bob out of the room and Roumoult followed. Fred stood in the corridor and he at his door holding the door knob.
"I am so sorry sir." Ted said walking quickly towards both men. He was thin man in his 50's he was the gardener and took care of Bob.
"As soon I released his chains he ran indoors. I knew he would trouble you Master Cranston."
"It's ok Ted. I just don't understand why do we need a dog in the house, I basically don’t think anyone would try to steal something from here." Roumoult commented.
"Why do you say that?" Fred asked getting confused.
"Well they just might think that the stuff in this house is cursed." Roumoult explained uncaringly. Fred's face fell.
"Roumoult, how can you say such a thing? His father scolded.
"Now I think Frank is right." Fred admitted.
"Dad, why don't you wake up and smell the coffee. This house is going to go down even if there is an earthquake in Japan!!" Saying this Roumoult twisted around to closed the door behind him before Fred could say anything. When Fred came back to his sanity he noticed that Bob was looking at him. Fred handed Bob to Ted and he let him go.
"Why did you do that?" Fred asked.
"Sir, Bob always stays in the house at night." Ted replies.
Fred was confused, why his son acted so peculiarly bizarre when it came to this house. May be he didn't like the house. What can he do to change his opinion? May be very little.


11.00 pm.
William Sterling worked as a Medical Examiner for 3 years in the Chief Medical Examiner office of New York, generally called in short, the Morgue. He earned understanding of most of the cases because of his interest. He was 28 yrs old, with shining brunette right parted hair longer at right side, blue eyes; identical tallness as Roumoult, well shaved, efficient man and lived in a penthouse, which belonged to his father.
His father was a well-recognized Admiral and wanted him to be the Same but as he grew he decided to become a doctor. His father currently lived in San Francisco from the last 8 years and wanted him to move in with the family but he was obsessive with his work.
His father never liked the idea of him as an M.E but his mother always respected his decision.
As he got ready to get into bed his mind wandered about the X ray he had seen and the conversation with Roumoult. He got into the bed and switched on the TV. Sitting in a comfortable position he stretched and tried to watch a Sci-fi movie. But soon he realized it was no use as his in his head, the question, as to how could someone just crust the vertebrae? Bothered him like anything. He turned off the television and drew his sheets above his head trying to sleep.

The house was enclosed by trees, which led to the reasonable drop in the temperature. The gentle wind blew from the north rocking each tree creating faint sounds rattle noise by the leaves. It further blew through the countryside entering Cranston land and then Roumoult's room through the windows moving the curtains upwards. He felt the chill however was too tired to get up. Instead he just coiled into his bed sheets and tried to get sleep. He had almost dozed of but again was bothered by an irritating rubbing noise. It was same as before. He tried to neglect it by covering his ears but still heard it and got very aggravated. Then next he heard was a moan. It was Bob; he hated this dog for his behavior. Again the dog moaned.
“Oh… I will kill this dog.” He said in anger. Sitting up he thought it would be better if he would take the dog inside. He turned towards the door but stopped to see a large manly figure stood between his bed and the door. Now Bob had started barking. The figure was about 7 feet height and well built. The faceless man stood in the darkness watching him like a hawk.
"Who is it?" Roumoult asked after few minutes.
There was no reply.
"How did you get in here?" He asked his almost yelling. It was then he thought of calling for help. Unexpectedly the man started advance towards him. The man stepped into a dime light coming from the windows and a sharp pointed knife was visible.
“Oh my God.” Roumoult said trembling.
He was scared not knowing what to do he moved backwards. Bob barked vigorously and jumped on the door but couldn't open it. Roumoult knew a few ways to protect himself but was not confident about them, cautiously he moved backwards as the man advanced. "Roumoult, what is going on in there?" a voice called with a loud bang on the door, which was followed by few yells. For a minute both Roumoult and his stalker stopped. But then again the man turned his attention towards him. He didn't realize that he was at the end of the bed. The man suddenly sprang on the bed with the knife Roumoult yelled and was knock down on the other side of the bed.
"Roumoult open the door!!!” Many voices called banging the door.
Woof woof…"
When Roumoult realized he was on the floor he acted instantaneously and switched on the lights. But the man was gone!! He couldn't believe it. His eyes searched the room but the man had vanished. He was soaked in sweat and finding it difficult to breathe.
"Roumoult, open the door!" Fred yelled from outside literally kicking the door.
He immediately got up turned around but the man was gone. He opened the door. The group of distressed men gaped back at him.
Fred was grasping for air.
"What the hell happened?" Frank asked in aloud tone.
“Yeah, why didn’t you open the door?” Mark asked out loud.
It was obvious everyone was annoyed. Roumoult stayed silent. Fred looked at his son’s pale, white face. Roumoult immediately moved away from the door and searches his room. He then looks over his windows. The room was on the 1st floor but it was not possible for anyone to climb the wall without support.
"Roumoult, what is going on here?" Mark asked shaking his head.
"You woke us up at 2.30am in the morning. You better have a good explanation." Chet yelled and then added, " On the top this dog doesn't stop barking."
Roumoult gave no response to Chet, he didn’t bothered to. To tried to relax interpreting in his mind abot the event. His heart pumped fast, he felt his pajamas soaked in sweat. It happened for the second time. He had no idea if he was dreaming or the man was for real… no Bob woke him up. He was not dreaming.
He sat on the bed thinking.
"What happened?" Fred asked sitting besides him. Fred knew there was something wrong.
"Some one was in my room dad." Roumoult answered at last.
"Yah you!" Chet commented.
"Chet this is not funny. There was an strange man in my room. He had a knife and he was going to attack." Roumoult told him angrily.
Everybody exchange glances. For a moment there was complete silence. Frank immediately looked out of the windows but saw on one.
“What?” Mark asked somewhat disbelieving.
“That is not possible.” Chet commented.
Frank was still thinking.
"Then where did he go?" Fred asked thinking.
"I don't know I fell down from the bed and when I switched on the light, he was gone." Roumoult explained spreading his arms.
"May be jumped out of the windows!" Mark pointed out.
"I would have seen him. I fell on the side of the windows. The reason he withdrew was because you guys were yelling at the door." Roumoult said burying his head in his hands.
"Alfred, call the guard asked him whether he saw anyone." Frank ordered.
"He was right there!!" Roumoult shouted throwing his hands in the air.
"Roumoult if there was someone in your room he couldn't have left the house undetected as we have camera's all over the compound." Frank informed. Everyone exchanged glances. No one knew about the cameras. Even Fred turned his head to look at his father who shrugged his shoulders.
Frank noticed that all the blankets were on the floor. Everyone waited impatiently for Alfred to return.
What was going on? Roumoult asked himself. Alfred arrived after a few minutes and reported no one entered the house after Roumoult. Everybody now suspiciously gazed at Roumoult.
"Son. May be you were dreaming."
"I was not dreaming" Roumoult insisted.
"Well you are a lawyer. You could get dreams like this." Frank pointed out.
"You guys think I am lying." Roumoult said angrily.
"No." Frank said thinking trying not to hurt him.
"Dad believe me he was there. Then how do you explain Bob's barking?" Roumoult said.
"Well Bob is always eager to get into your room." Fred answered assuring.
"See everything has an explanation" Chet commented.
Roumoult looked at him with resentment. There was no way he could prove it. He closed his eyes and tried to interpret what was right.
"Roumoult calm down ok. It was a dream. " Mark said in an assuring tone.
"OK we are off to bed" He announced pulling Chet along with him.
"I suppose there won't be anymore surprises for the night." Frank said.
Fred stared at him who shook his head and departed quietly. Fred knew that since Roumoult mother's death he never slept well. The doctors had told him that his son had never accepted her death and that thought had been buried in his subconscious mind and it always troubled him during his sleep. Both Roumoult and Fred looked at each other then at Bob who sat quietly on the floor and looked blankly at them.
"Roumoult…"Fred started to say.
"I know you don't believe!!" Roumoult said interrupting angrily and got up.
"There is no reason to be mad" Fred said "You don't even know for sure whether it was a dream or real. Son, everything here indicates that it wasn't real. You were dreaming." Fred concluded.
"No I was not" Roumoult insisted.
"Ok, Tell me how are you so sure about that?"
"Dad it seemed so real." Roumoult said running his hand through his head.
Fred closed his eyes.
"Dreams seem real. Roumoult listen to me it was a dream. Ok now lets back to sleep." Fred said assuring.
"I don't want to sleep." Roumoult said waving his hands.
"Come here." Fred said and pulled him to the bed. He tried to resist but it was useless. Roumoult didn’t want to fight so he stayed silent. Fred picked up the blankets and arranged them properly. To make him more comfortable Fred stayed with him. Bob sat quietly on the floor. After about half an hour Roumoult fell asleep so did Fred.


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