Twists of fate and lemon juice letters. by Ashes Jay

The shelter of the cellar

Cellar

The rain was slowly crawling down Harrow's window in the way that made his skin crawl there was something about the shadows that the rain cast on his floor that made him uncomfortable. It was like millions of living worms crawling upon his flesh and for some reason he feared it he feared the worms though he could never see them he somehow felt they were there dancing under his skin. He closes his eyes slowly then rises from bed allowing his short brown hair to fall over his eyes. 'Again?' He asked himself 'Again' he told himself his feet as if possessed walked on their own volition and crept him through the silent and sleeping house to the cellar door. The cold air that crept under the door was inviting as always and the earthy smell made the worms under his skin seek some other being to burden.

He lets his fingers wrap about the knob and turn gently so as not to stir anything sleeping in the house. The light of the furnace below crept up the old wooden stairs like an old friend and gently licked at his cheek. He slipped into its embrace and crept down the stairs with his average carefulness. He could never quite explain what it was that he like about the cellar but for some reason it always made him happy. There was a small shrine set in the middle of it with a very simple fountain that trickled endlessly over hundreds of tinny black stones. He found himself draw to it more so then normal this night and with care he bowed his head in respect to his ancestors and kneeled before it. A breeze seemed to spring from nowhere as the fire jumped a little higher. Harrow opened his eyes to the sudden stir of the elements around him and was alarmed. A mouse startled by the stir of flame raced from the pile of wood beside the stove and clawed furiously at a lose stone in the foundation of the cellar the stone fell free and crushed the mouse's head flat.

Harrow immediately moves over to the mouse and looks down upon it with a bit of curiosity. It was a silver mouse its fur was very clean and its white tail was thin and boney the stone kept its face from view but the deep crimson fluid that stained the fur was more black then red. He picked up the stone and attempted to fit it back into the cavity it had been freed from but he paused to look inside instead. 'Why this stone...why would a mouse try to free a stone much larger then itself?' He asked himself as he carefully reached into the cavity and felt around. Something cold and metallic and something paper. He pulled the two items out with care and examined them. He used the firelight to inspect the necklace and the old parchment. He could recognize his family's insignia deeply carved into a white tooth that was bound up by silver metal. The tooth looked to be animal in nature very pointed and a bit long.

The old paper on the other hand was blank on one side but held a picture of one of his ancestors upon the back. The Black ink sketch was of a very commanding man with long flowing black hair and piercing eyes. He held a slightly pointed nose and highbrow and the scar just over his right eye was just the identifying mark Harrow needed to recall who the man was. It was one of his oldest ancestors so old that he hard knew his name he had to take a few moments to recall it. 'Matraus...hmm something like that wasn't it?' He mumbled to himself. He just happened to be one of the ancestors that had given his family such an infamous name as Tenigatchi the name itself was nothing more then a name but Matraus was called a demon and all who were born from his line were thought poorly of though his parents had kept him shielded from the story as to what Matraus had done to earn the name of demon.

He tossed the paper towards the furnace half way hopping it would be consumed by the flames. He felt no need to have a reminder of his name or the reason he felt so out of place at school or while working in town to earn a few extra dollars. But the paper did not catch upon the fire instead it settled itself upon the hot steel the image of his ancestor taking the full force of the heat. Harrow was about to head back to the fountain when he noticed that upon the back of the paper words were beginning to form light black text emerged slowly. He moved to the furnace carefully and began to examine the writing. It had been hidden from view most likely written in lemon juice or some other form of invisible ink. He began to read slowly. "What follows is my gift to the descendants of my line here lies my gateway to the world my legacy my work I have done many things that some might call..." The note begins to burn before he can rip it off the stove. He pats out the flames but the letter is badly damaged. "This is my well to...my...guard and use it..."