The Collector Read online

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  With the moonlight pouring in the windows of the turret, I stood before the spiral staircase, feeling the need to go upstairs and explore. I lifted my foot onto the first step and paused. Standing in the dark, I gazed up the stairs, wondering what I would find. A part of me wondered if I really wanted to solve the mystery of the Green Lady. Perhaps it was never meant to be solved.

  Without warning, I watched as the torches sparked and ignited, one by one, as if by magic. Something was beckoning me upstairs, and although I was hesitant, I could not resist the call.

  Taking my time, I ascended the stairs, running my fingertips along the wall for balance.

  When I reached the fourth floor, I saw the door to the first bedchamber was open, and a dim light was pouring into the hall from within. Curious, I entered the chamber realizing candles had been lit from within and were positioned throughout the chamber, illuminating the room in an orange glow.

  Taking everything in, I realized the room was a study. To my right, there was a large bookcase that covered the whole wall, filled with dusty volumes. In the center of the study, there was a large mahogany desk with spiral hand-carved legs and a matching tufted chair. Aside from those items, the room was quite bare and appeared unused.

  As I was about to exit, my eyes caught a tarp. Inspecting it, I assumed the tarp was covering something wide and flat, but I couldn’t guess what it could be. It was too thin to be a piece of furniture.

  Without explanation, I was suddenly fearful. What if I saw something I didn’t wish to see?

  My breath caught in my throat. I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans in an effort to keep them dry. My pulse increased to the point of tachycardia. I gulped, trying to talk some courage into my spirit. I was there to explore, and I couldn’t abandon my task because of some irrational fear.

  Extending my hand, I reached for it, but my time was cut short as the picture faded to black.