Fictional journal about a professor uncovering the mystery behind 2 mentally ill patients
|November 16, 1946|
“Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.” Marie Curie (1867 – 1934)
It’s still raining and has been for several hours. The heavy rainfall is abundant that I could barely see anything through it. The squeaking noise of the front doors hitting each other constantly is shrilly unbelievable. I hear dogs barking in the veranda but can’t see any sign of them nonetheless; I guess it is a figment of my imagination.
Weary, as I am still trying to grasp the secrecy of this mansion. It has been abandoned for generations, yet it stands firmly still in the middle of the heath. The structure, architecture and significance of the mansion is undoubtedly remarkable. It must have been constructed by a person who held the utmost intellectual abilities that he eventually struggled and went through serious and sincere effort to achieve this magnificent design.
I brought myself to the point of asking numerous questions which demanded assertive answers. Who is that person? Why did he build such a structure and choose to never reside in it? Is there a reason behind it? With all this exquisiteness and outstanding structure, yet there is no definite knowledge about its mere presence.
The documents that I have located and collected so far are not vastly enough to unveil the mystery behind it. I rummaged through archives, books, papers, records, newspapers and all artifacts that I could locate but yet, couldn’t determine any reason why this mansion has not been noticed inadvertently for generations. The towns’ people are not helpful since they have the tendency to ignore every question about the mansion that I set forth. I guess that I am all alone in this journey of mystery and suspense.
Accommodating myself a room on the second floor of the mansion while staring through the window with my head tilting on the edges, I realized that I need to reside in this mansion and gather logical interpretation long enough to understand its state of existence.
This is where it all begins….
November 20, 1946
Four days have passed since I last wrote in my diary. The aftermath from the rainfall is devastating. The land became waterlogged and having absorbed so much water, it became soggy and difficult to walk on. The metal doors are badly corroded along with the heavy rainfall incident; it’ll highly catalyze the corrosion effect. Yet, the inner area of the mansion, especially the principal face showing its most prominent architectural features, look immaculate as though it’s a brand new building. Strangely enough, I'm not the least bit surprised.
I’ve been around the mansion lately trying to comprehend its existence. My plan on approaching each room was simple. Determine what captures my eyes and then embark on analyzing its structure. It never ceases to amaze me the appealing sight of the texture in the rooms. However, there is one room in particular that grabbed my attention. It is surrounded with portraits which stared in different directions. The arrangements of the portraits at eye level and its proportional distance from one another are precise as if the mansion was built from the inside out. There is something suspicious about this room which got me to think that there is something underneath its external appearance.
Going through the records, the word “Clandestine” keeps being mentioned consistently but oddly for different occasions. I started investigating the word and traced it back to its origin. Etymologically, the word “Clandestine” is from the word “Clandestin” in French which is derived from the Latin word “Clandestīnus” meaning "secrecy” or “concealment". Fortuitously, the first clue has been discovered. Then again, what kind of secrecy or concealment could it be? Should it be logic; a sensible rational thought and argument rather than ideas that are influenced by emotions or should it be a link with the town’s people since they didn’t provide me with any information.
The sky is dark and completely overcast. I think it’s about to rain again.
I still can’t seem to figure out what I’m looking for……
It’s almost midnight and the obsession has taken control of my inner self.
Clandestine ---- Peculiar Portraits.
My mind is consumed by the desire of knowing if these two are interrelated.
November 22, 1946
“You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time. “ Abraham Lincoln, (1809 - 1865)
I’m worried by the continual presence and recurrence of the peculiar portraits in my mind. I can’t seem to understand the intent of having the portraits arranged in the room in this manner. Each portrait is staring away from me, making me feel as if I’m standing alone in the room, being abundant and isolated from everyone else. Strangely and quite inexplicably, the structure of the room is rather eerie as well. Whilst entering the room, you’ll notice two portraits on each side.
One of the portraits has something written beneath it, quoting:
“So divinely is the world organized that every one of us, in our place and time, is in balance with everything else. “
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
German dramatist, novelist, poet, & scientist (1749 - 1832)
I took a picture of the portraits I went to visit one of my close friends that I haven’t seen for a long time, Dr. Rudolph Milakovich who is a mathematician and a person who loves art and a man of wisdom. Driving through the valley on my way to Rudolph’s’, I realized that I’m starting to worry about my own self; this compulsive obsession is draining the life out of me. Nonetheless, obsession is the essence of solving mysteries.
I arrived at Rudolph’s and noticed the ecstasy of my arrival. He welcomed me in a most courteous manner, the significance of a true friend. He wasn’t the least surprised to know that I’m obsessed about this mansion so, he immediately asked if he could be of any help. I shared the pictures that I took from the mansion and handed them to him for observation. He sat there looking at each one closely and thoroughly. Unfortunately, all that he could perceive is the directions of where the portraits are staring.
Just when I was about to leave, he asked me to describe the placement of the portraits which was really weird to me. So I placed each portrait in its position as in the room and that’s when he figured out the mystery. He justified the behavior of the portraits is not only the depiction, but the elements surrounding it as well. Furthermore, he noticed the strangeness of each one staring away from each other. His aim was to rearrange the portraits in a way where all of them are staring in to one direction. I read his perspective and left back to the mansion.
On my way back, eagerly waiting to rearrange the portraits, the strangeness of Johann’s quote is starting to make sense to me. “Every one of us” is referring to the [portraits], “in our place and time” is referring to the [room] and “is in balance with everything else” is referring to the arrangement of all the portraits staring into [one direction]. It all makes sense now but there is only one thing missing from the quote, “So divinely is the world organized”, I just couldn’t figure the mystery behind that.
I arrived to the mansion and rushed to the portraits and rearranged them according to Rudolph’s perspective and there it was. I’m standing in the center of the room with each portrait staring right through me, making me the center of attention. Wherever I look, wherever I stare, one of the portraits has to be staring right back at me. I was facing the fact that I was trapped in a cage where I couldn’t move. That’s when I knew that there is only one place that I can move to, up. I looked up and I saw a magnificent picture of earth, the [world]. Now Johann’s missing piece makes sense. Upon entering the room, I was so distracted with the portraits that I didn’t care less to look anywhere else. Whoever built this room, in this way, wanted to feel as if he’s the center of attention and all of the people in the world are staring at him but vaguely, didn’t want anyone to know.
Who is this person? Why did he want to be the center of attention? Did he build it for someone or for himself? Is there something behind this mystery room? Clandestine, does it have anything to do with this room?
More and more of the mystery is starting to be revealed. I can’t wait till I solve this mystery. The secret behind it has to be inconceivable, no wonder it’s kept safe in here for so long. Only divine intervention can stop me from knowing.
November 23, 1936
Many may believe that climbing Mount Everest would be an incredible experience but to witness such a sight; standing in the middle of this room having all these portraits staring deep down into my eyes, is extravagant. It's amazing how a person bears to put himself in such a state; cherishing the moment, having the utmost feeling of attention flowing in succession through his mind. But one must ask a simple question, why would a person need that much of attention? Is he lonely; isolated and separated from the world or is he depressed; suffering the intense feelings of sadness, hopelessness, failure, and rejection? Either way, the imagination and skills used to acquire such a task is incredible. Oddly enough, the room seems as if it’s hidden from everybody outside. What strikes me the most is the reason behind the portraits being unorganized in the first place. Was it meant to deceive me? Was it furtively investigated by another person? More and more questions arise as the secrets of the mansion are starting to unfold.
I noticed the rarity and antiquity of the artwork used while I was in my room thoroughly investigating the appearance of the portraits and the image of earth on the ceiling. My investigation came to an abrupt halt when I realized that the image of the earth was based on a 1689 drawing of a map produced in Amsterdam by Van Schagen. According to the details illustrated in the documents, the drawing is made up of six extremely rare set of maps put together, only known in one other example located in the Amsterdam University. However, ironically, the image in the room looks quite different than the one in the documents.
Just when I was about to start my work on the drawing; I heard a squeaking sound of a car outside. I went to the window to see who it was but it was too dark to see properly. I could only see the dimming lights of the car at the yard. He came down from the car, creeping as he starts walking towards the main entrance in the dead of night and his figure could barely be seen darkly on the foggy moor. I ran down the stairs and across the hallway heading to the front door. Weird, the door was already opened. Whoever it was, he seems to have a key to the front door, or did he? Fortunately, due to the mud outside, his footsteps were visible on the floor and were heading to the room with the portraits. I went to the room and saw the door was already opened. He was standing in the middle of the room just like I was earlier. Strange, I swear that he bears a striking resemblance of me but has a countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Little did I know, the conversation we’re about to have would reveal the skeleton in the closet.