The Nightmare Game (27 page)

Read The Nightmare Game Online

Authors: S. Suzanne Martin

BOOK: The Nightmare Game
2.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Say what?” This was far from any answer I’d
expected to get. “You’re pulling my leg, right?”

“Not at all, Ashley, you remember that I told you
that Arrosha was our fearless leader?”

“Yes.”

“Well, in truth, she’s tremendously more than
that. I didn’t want to tell you too much too soon because I know that it can be
overwhelming. But now that you’ve seen the mansion and its magnificence, I
thought that you’ll be much more inclined to believe me.”

“All I see is that she’s enormously wealthy, Ben.”

“Oh, no, it is much, much more than that.”

“What is it, then?”

“The conservatory is a sacred sanctuary, Ashley.
It’s Arrosha’s sacred temple.”

“Her temple? You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all. You see, Arrosha is not just our
leader, she’s not just the owner of this mansion. She’s our Queen. She is our
Goddess, the true Goddess. All of us that live here worship her and follow her
faithfully, for we are her chosen, we are her children.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

“What? You can’t possibly be serious,” I replied,
shocked. While my personal memories may have counted less than the fingers of
one hand, my general memories seemed more or less intact. There was something
fishy going on. The mansion with its displays of too much money, the robes, the
no-food policy, it all added up, didn’t it? I’d landed into a freaking cult and
now they were trying to recruit me. While that was bad enough, alarm bells in
my head went off, leaving me with a feeling that there was more to this
situation than I could possibly imagine right now. I tried hard to remember,
but there was nothing to retrieve. What was it? It had to be important. Why
couldn’t I remember? Why were my memories gone?

“I’m sorry that’s such a shock, Ashley. I didn’t
mean to scare you,” Ben said. Realizing that I hadn’t taken the news quite as
well as he’d expected, he was trying his level best to soothe me. “Hey, I know
that sort of thing’s not something that you hear everyday, but you really
needed to know. I tried to break it to you as gently as I could. I guess it
just wasn’t gentle enough.”

“Listen, I appreciate everything you guys did for
me, but I don’t want any part of any new religion, okay?”

“It isn’t a new religion, Ashley, it’s actually a
very old one.”

“Whatever. New, old, it’s still a cult, right?
You’re in a freaking cult and this is a freaking cult house, isn’t it?” I said,
backing away from him. “I should have known. What are you going to do?
Brainwash me? Make me join?”

Ben was genuinely concerned. “Relax, Ashley,
please. We’re not a cult, we’re not dangerous and none of us are brainwashed.
We all have our own free will.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what they all say. No
wonder there’s so much money here. There usually is in phony religion.”

“It’s not phony, Ashley. While we are a small,
devoted group of worshipers, we are certainly no cult. We’re not into
recruitment, which is why there are so few of us. You can’t understand it
because you haven’t seen the miracles that we have. That’s why we believe, it’s
not blind faith. In fact, you’re the only person that’s ever come here without
being personally chosen by Arrosha herself. We don’t just pick people up off
the street. In fact, we’ve never even had anyone land at our doorstep before.”

“So I’m the first recruit? I should have known.”

“No, trust me, you’re not. You’re our guest,
Ashley, our honored guest. You just have the remarkable distinction of being
the only person that’s arrived here unannounced.”

“You’re telling me that nobody from the outside
has ever been here?” I questioned.

“I didn’t say that. We do have guests from time to
time attending our parties, but they are always invited. People from all walks
of life have come here and they are always allowed to leave again of their own
free will. We’ve had guests that have wanted to stay, wanted to join us, but
they were not allowed to. Only those of us chosen by Arrosha are allowed to
join, are allowed live here. Our group is certainly no cult; it has more in
common, I suppose, with a private club than with anything else. That you’ve
been given permission to stay, that you’ve been invited to take essence with us
is a singular honor. Please, just stay here for a few days until your memory
returns enough for you to remember where you live so that we can get you home
safely. If you don’t like it here, then leave. I’m sorry that I didn’t break
the news to you more gently. I’m sorry, too, if it ever sounded like I was
pushing you into something. I guess I just liked you a lot from the beginning,
so I presumed too much. I’ll back off, I promise. We all will. If you don’t
like it here, you can leave. I’ll talk to Arrosha and arrange to take you back
myself, to New Orleans, to your home, to wherever you want to go; but if you
like it here and if Arrosha approves you, then please consider staying with
us.”

“You’re not just saying this to calm me down? I
can really leave when I want to?”

“I promise. You are not a prisoner here. Like I
said, all I ask is for you to wait until more of your memory comes back; it
simply wouldn’t be safe for you to leave before then. You’ve already begun to
remember a few things, so I’m sure that it’ll come back soon. Personally, I’d
like you to stay because you seem like you’d be a wonderful friend, but I’d never
force you or try to brainwash you into it. It really is your choice and only
your choice.” Ben seemed so honest and sincere that I couldn’t help but believe
him. Besides, I really had no option because, with so little personal memory, I
truly had nowhere else to go.

“Nobody’s going to start pressuring me to stay,
then?” I double-checked.

“I promise. I didn’t want to tell you this because
I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but there are several among us that are
suspicious of you because you didn’t arrive in the traditional way.”

“Did you? I mean, the ‘traditional way’?”

“Like I tried to explain, Arrosha brought all the
rest of us here herself. I was the first. She rescued me. She rescued all of
us.”

“That doesn’t make her a deity.” I wondered how
anyone as decent as Ben seemed could buy into such an outlandish claim.

He looked at me with an expression of great
sincerity that matched his tone of voice. “I know how hard it must be to
believe when you haven’t actually experienced one of her miracles. She can do
things no mere person can do. She is a Goddess, Ashley. She really is the true
Goddess and I’ve seen the proof myself. I’m old enough to know the difference
between a fraud and the real thing. And she is the Real Deal.”

“You’re old enough? Ben, you can’t be that old.
You couldn’t possibly be a day over twenty-five.”

“Remember I told you not even to try to do the
math? Ashley, looks are enormously deceiving around here. I’m a lot older than
I look.”

“How old are you, then.”

“I stopped counting birthdays a long time ago
because they no longer fit. But I can tell you that I’m pushing the century
mark.”

My mouth dropped open. “No.”

“Oh, yes. I was sixty-three years old and dying
when Arrosha rescued me and turned me into the man you see before you today. I
told you she performed miracles. I’m just one of them.”

“You can’t be serious,” I asked, incredulous.

“I am and I’ll tell you the whole story tomorrow
like I promised, okay? Listen, I’m thirsty. How about you?”

“A little,” I answered, realizing that Ben was
shifting the conversation. I let it go, vowing that I would not let him change
the subject again tomorrow. Then I would make him keep his promise to tell me
everything.

“All this talking is making my throat a little
dry,” he said, walking behind the spiral staircase. I followed him to a
gargoylesque water cooler hidden in the corner, where he pulled out two large
glasses from a cabinet, filled one and handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Not a problem,” he said as he poured the second
glass for himself. “There are water fountains in various guises all about the
mansion and grounds, so if you get thirsty, let me know and I’ll point them out
until you get more familiar with our layout.”

The water flowed through me, refreshing me in a
way I had never known before. It was as if I could actually feel my cells
rejuvenating.

“This has got to be the best water that I’ve ever
had in my entire life,” I commented as we finished drinking.

“It certainly is,” he confirmed. “Purer stuff, you
will never find. Feel better now?”

“I’m doing wonderful,” I answered, reinvigorated.
“I don’t even know now why I was stressing.”

“Fabulous. Shall we continue our tour now?”

“Lead the way, Kimosabe.”

“Great. I’ll condense my little lecture on this
gallery to make it quick.”

“You’ve done this before, I take it,”

“Oh, many times,” Ben said, proudly. “As a matter
of fact, you could say that I am our group’s official greeter and tour guide.”

“I’m impressed,” I said playfully.

“As well you should be,” he teased back. “Okay,
now that I’ve told you who Arrosha is, the history behind these works will make
more sense,” he began with the polished, well-rehearsed air of a museum
curator. “This entire floor contains the major paintings of Arrosha’s
collection. Her tastes are varied but defined. With sculpture, she has a
preference for antiquities and the medieval. With masks and wall hangings, she
prefers tribal and aboriginal art. With jewelry and weaponry, her tastes are
broad, although she shows little interest in anything created after the 1930’s.
As you can see, this broadness of taste extends also to her collection of
paintings, although in general, she does favor Russian and Byzantine Iconic
art, the old masters and the romantic painters of the nineteenth century. Most
of the paintings on this second floor fall into this category they are all
originals, to the very last one. That one is a Reubens,” he said as he pointed
them out, “and these are, respectively, a Remembrandt, a Titian, a Raphael.
Most of the newer works are displayed in other areas of the mansion, with the
notable exception of Francis Bacon, whose work is displayed on this opposite
wall along with the northern painters of the Renaissance, her favorite of whom
is Heronomous Bach.”

“Wow,” I remarked. “You really have done this before.”

“Darn tootin’,” he said, breaking out of
character. “You should see me do this before a larger group. I absolutely
shine.”

I studied the pieces he had pointed out. “I
recognize some of the painters’ styles,” I said, looking at them carefully.
Like all the paintings I’d seen so far, these works had a dark theme. The
non-portraits were especially disturbing, for their themes were inevitably
those of submission, unhealthy seduction and nightmares.

“I don’t recognize any of these paintings, though.
Not a single one of them seems in the least bit familiar.”

“No one would recognize them,” Ben answered. “They
would baffle even an authenticity expert. They’ve never been in any museum and
they’ve never been reproduced in any print or book. To the world, they are
great undiscovered works. There’s a simple reason for that. They’ve never been
out of Arrosha’s possession and have never been photographed. Every piece of
art in this house has remained in her private collection all of these years,
all these centuries, all these eons.”

I did not say a word and yet my facial expression
must have revealed everything.

Ben laughed in his intensely charming way. “Yes,
Ashley, Arrosha is immortal. Believe me when I tell you she is a Goddess. Her
immortality is only one more slice of proof for you to ponder. And she is also,
as you can see, quite the connoisseur of all things fine. Most of these
paintings were given to her as presents either from patrons or personally from
the artists themselves. As a Goddess, she has received many gifts and much
tribute over the eons. That Rembrandt, for example, is a very early piece of
his. He gave it to her long before anyone outside of his inner circle even
heard of him.” Ben smiled broadly, openly proud of both the art and the goddess
he worshiped. “Being immortal has many advantages, you know.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, and I’m glad of it. To
tell the truth, Ben, life is hard enough as it is for the relatively short time
that we have. Immortality always seemed so tedious to me, too hard, too much
work.”

“I guess it’s a good thing Arrosha doesn’t feel
that way or else we wouldn’t be so blessed by her,” he said without sarcasm.

“But sometimes life isn’t so pleasant, Ben. I
mean, just look at all of the people in these paintings,” I continued as I
viewed the darkly themed paintings in the gallery. “They seem to have had very
miserable lives. They’re all so unhappy and filled with so much dread.”

“Oh, I know,” he empathized. “I’ve always felt so
very sorry for them. I have to remind myself that they’re just paintings and
not really alive. But you know, Ashley, if you are able and willing to join us,
I think you’ll find out that life doesn’t have to be hard anymore. Our lives
here are extraordinarily pleasant.”

“I’ll think about it, Ben. I really will.”

“Wonderful.”

We walked back to the hall and, turning right,
viewed the remaining art without commentary until we reached an open archway.

“This arch marks entry into the private area of
the floor,” Ben noted. “Let’s keep going down this hallway and I’ll show you
where the bedrooms are because you’ll be staying in this section from now on,
sharing a room with Illea. You need to see it now so you’ll be oriented
tonight. You see, the essence is so incredibly cleansing that the first
experience with it is very powerful. You’ll probably be so sleepy after your
‘meal’ that you’ll want to go straight to bed.”

We continued down the corridor into a portion of
the home that was clearly residential. Dark wood floors covered with thick
oriental runners now replaced the plush carpeting. Wood paneled walls with
mahogany moldings near the ceiling and at the floor contained no paintings or
art of any kind but were, instead, dotted with large mahogany doors containing
elegant brass handles. This area felt much more like a mansion than a palace.
We turned a corner, near which Ben opened the first door to our right and we
stepped into a beautiful, spacious bedroom with two king sized beds in it.
While it was far less grand than the public rooms, it was still huge but quite
cozy despite its large size and felt infinitely more comfortable.

“This will be your room from now until you decide
to leave us, although I’m still hoping that you’ll stay. I hope you don’t mind
sharing with Illea.”

“Did Illea have another roommate before me?” I
asked, looking at the second bed.

“Oh, no. Why do you ask?”

“Two beds,” I answered.

Other books

Borrow-A-Bridesmaid by Anne Wagener
For Love And Honor by Speer, Flora
Beijing Coma by Ma Jian
Rose in a Storm by Jon Katz
Songbird by Lisa Samson