Tenebrae Manor Read Free

his skin and the stitches at his joints betrayed his immortality. His gaze was permanently deadpan, as if his creator had neglected to teach him the thrills of joviality.
    Bordeaux had to grin at the beast. “Always a steadfast servant, dear Usher.”
    “Thank you sir.” Usher grunted in return, his hulking hand remained latched to the doorknob, as though he were awaiting another order.
    “News?” asked Bordeaux.
    “A message. The Lady Libra wishes to see you, sir.”
    “The self-absorbed gourmand. Very well.”
    He took a step further into the entry hall and Usher dutifully closed the door with a thud, resuming his erect stance as doorman of the manor. So lifeless was the Usher’s expression that he could easily be mistaken for mere decoration, not unlike the suits of armour that lined the wall against which he stood. Ever vigilant, the Usher had become just another part of the furniture in Tenebrae Manor. Not the most physically pleasant receptionist to newcomers to the manor but unmatched in quality of service. It was these traits that Bordeaux admired greatly and found himself thinking of as he began his ascent of Tenebrae’s main staircase.
    No light shone down on the stairs at the present point and the house was as silent as it was dark. Flits of charcoal grey night sky illuminated the windows to some small extent, casting shadows that sculpted dimensions into bannister and step. The stairs slid down hypnotically beneath Bordeaux’s shoes, black then white, black then white, as his ascent to the higher floors of Tenebrae drawled on.
    He came presently upon a junction in the staircase, a landing where a vast arch window looked out upon the southern forest. Bordeaux came to a stand still to absorb the adrenalin that came from such a dizzying height. Below the window, sheer wall dropped for the four storeys he had already climbed, before plummeting further down over the cliff face to jagged pines and boulders below. The edge of the world, with Tenebrae Manor teetering upon the precipice, a sea of black trees and mountains spreading further than vision permitted and threatening to obliterate any who may fall into the pitch.
    Bordeaux pursed his lips and looked back the way he had come, the black and white steps trailing down until black conquered and light penetrated as far as it could. Forgotten candelabra stood soldier silent in the four corners of the landing, ancient tallow gripping their vine-like arms. One such candelabrum had become the inverted perch for a colony of bats that squalled affectionately to Bordeaux’s caressing claw.
    “My pretty little things,” he whispered, as one bat gave its leathery wings a good stretch before hugging itself back into slumber.
    Bordeaux knew that the left junction of the landing would take him to the quarters of the awaiting Lady Libra. Yet, again he felt deterred from his duties. A fatigue had enveloped him, one quenchable only by a glass of red and a dusty old tome awaiting him in his own room.
    But things had to be done, such was the responsibility of his position and, as such, he decided to inquire upon another of the preparations for Libra’s birthday, undertaken by another of the manor’s darkled characters. So it was the right hand stairs he took, stairs that ascended ever higher to the very zenith of the house, into the immense auditorium at its pinnacle.
    At a glance, it seemed that the auditorium in question had been a poorly calculated add-on to Tenebrae Manor’s façade. So garish and out of place it did seem that it stood like a boil upon otherwise blemish free skin. A mighty, vacuous cavern, ghosts of an echoed past were all that occupied its dark red seats. Every sound was discernable from its outer circumference, proving it to be more than acoustically sound. But so unnecessary it was, a theatre of such size. Forgiving the fact that Tenebrae’s residents were small of count already and that visitors were indeed so rare as to render the auditorium