Ravensblood

When Sandy went missing my heart dropped. It was like losing my mother. Her vanishing was bizarre, but I could never guess how dark it was. And that damned house didn’t sit well with me from the beginning. I’m Cole Mendoza. My story documents the disappearance of Sandra Breyer. It may be hard to believe but the events are true.

Early May

“Cole, it’s a Victorian!” I’ve always wanted one,” Sandy said over the phone. “I’ve moved to Ravensblood.”

“Ravensblood? Is it anywhere near Hell? I sarcastically asked.

“No.” Sandy chuckled. “The town of Hell is west of Detroit. Ravensblood is six-hours north and sits along a river.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to move. When did you do it?”

“Last month. Bad memories live in my old house; everything involving Peter. I miss Detroit but needed to move on and not feel ‘un’ anymore.”

“Un” was how Sandy described feeling sad, alone, or depressed.

“A new house and a new life,” Sandy said. “I’m back to using my maiden name. The Victorian needs work, but I got a good land contract. Somehow, I need to be here.”

It was one of the rare times Sandy was happy since her divorce. After getting settled in for a few days, she invited me over for a tour of her new home. Eager to check it out, I took the long drive in my black Jeep Rubicon. Steering through the small downtown area on Main Street, locals bustled among small, charming shops.

Outside of town on the way to her house, large fields, barns and roadkill were abundant along winding dirt roads. I spider-webbed through the rural area until encountering the large red Victorian, trimmed in white, situated back from Arkham Road. It was surrounded by woods; the nearest neighbor blocks away. Paint peeled from the exterior walls. A tall green spruce stood on the front lawn, casting a pleasant shade on the grass.

Sandy’s yellow Volkswagen Beetle sat in the driveway. While pulling up behind it, a huge bulky black bird landed on the old porch banister. As I exited the vehicle, it let out a deep hoarse croaking sound while gazing at me with shiny black eyes.

Sandy opened the dark oak front door with a smile, her soft features aglow and blonde hair touching her shoulders. The black bird squawked then flew away with loud flapping wings.

“Cole! It’s good to see you, hun! It’s been too long.”

“Good to see you too, Sandy. Was that a friend of yours?” I asked, heading toward the porch.

“Oh, the raven?” she said, greeting me as I walked up the steps. “He comes around. Plenty of animals live around here.” She gave me a hug.

“Blonde, huh? Looks good. I like the bangs.”

“You know, making changes and all.”

“Working on a tan too? Catching rays?”

“I am. Lots of yard work in the sun. I’ll soon be as tan as you are. Shame I don’t have your dark curly hair to go with it. I see you’re keeping it clean-cut now. How’s the executive security business?”

“It’s good. Black Wolf is growing. We landed enough high-profile clients to move headquarters downtown.”

“I’ve always worried about you doing bodyguard work. Be careful, Cole.” Sandy said, leading me into the large main hall. Bulky gold frames surrounded paintings hung on light beige walls.

“Don’t you just love it?” Sandy asked.

“It’s fantastic.” Somehow the old style was appealing.

In the main hall against the left wall was a long dark wooden staircase with a landing at the top. Stairs continued up to the right leading to the second floor. A loud heavy creak came from the ceiling above. Then two more. Footsteps upstairs.

“Do you have company, Sandy?”

“No. It’s the house settling, that’s all.” Sandy said with a smile.

“Sounds like someone is walking around up there.”

“This old place makes all kinds of creepy noises. It’s nobody.”

“Alright,” I said, trusting her judgement.

To the immediate right of the hall, I was escorted into a living room, almost stretching to the back of the house. Two white French doors on each side of the wide entrance swung inward, resting against primrose-colored walls. More paintings.

A large mahogany fireplace lay against the wall directly ahead. Two gold candle holders on the mantel, each held a long, unburned white candle. Old Victorian-style furniture matched the decor.

“This isn’t your old furniture,” I said, touching the sky-blue couch.

“I sold mine. All of this furniture came with the house, including the paintings.”

On the coffee table sat a game of chess with glass pieces.

“Remember when I was a kid, I used to come to your house, and we’d play for hours? You’d let me win.”

“You were eleven at the time. I didn’t mind and enjoyed the company.”

“We enjoyed yours too. My parents were grateful for you. When they were struggling you shared kindness with us. A home cooked meal was always ready and you bought clothes for my brothers and me when we needed them.”

.“I appreciated your parents. They knew I was alone and were there for me. But when I married Pete, he wouldn’t let me out of the house.”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be in Jackson Prison for a long while. His days of drug trafficking and cruelty are over.”

“How’s your love life?” Sandy asked, changing the subject. “Has any special woman captured your heart?”

“No. I’m not dating. I’m focusing on expanding the company right now. There’s no one out there for me anyway.” I said with a smirk.

“Don’t be so sure, Cole. When you meet her, you’ll know.”

We stepped up to the painting hanging above the fireplace. It was an oil on canvas of the same red Victorian in which we stood, situated in front of a gray sky and large pale moon.

“That looks like your Victorian. Is it the same house?”

“It is. It must have been commissioned by previous owners.”

The mood of the piece was ominous.

Stepping back into the main hall, we made a sharp right, passing more paintings. At the back of the house, we entered a light blue room decorated with large green plants, sprouting around three walls. In the center sat a white wicker chair, a small table next to it, and a footrest in front. An enormous grandfather clock stood against the wall absent of flora.

“This is my sanctuary,” Sandy said. “A place to unwind and have tea. I’m going to buy an aquarium and put it on the table next to the broken clock.”

“What’s wrong with the grandfather?”

“Oh, it tells time, but it doesn’t sound. The chime mechanism is broken.”

“That’s okay. You wouldn’t want to be interrupted while relaxing in here. It’s a good place to de-stress,” I added, then gazed out the large back window of her sanctuary. The red brick garage sat at the back of the yard in front of the wood’s edge. Behind it, to the left was a huge oak tree, its trunk oddly shaped like a man. It divided upward into two thick arm-like branches with a rounded protuberance in the middle, like a head. I said nothing about it.

We exited the small jungle back into the hall, making another right turn. The bathroom was next to the sanctuary, containing a clawed feet tub and an old pedestal sink. Next to the bathroom, we entered the kitchen. White cabinets with glass doors lined the sunshine-yellow walls. The countertop was expensive marble, and the back door led to an enclosed porch.

We walked through a doorway on the left, into the dining room, painted mint green. A glass dining table was placed in the center with a crystal chandelier hanging above. Again, paintings on the walls.

A final left took us back into the main hall which separated the living room and dining room. We traveled in the shape of a square.

“Let’s have a look upstairs,” Sandy suggested.

Expectedly, the steps moaned as she led me up to the landing then made a sharp right up the smaller flight. The hall on the second floor was in the shape of a hook, the empty space of the stairwell in the center.

Sandy revealed the master bedroom, which contained a queen-sized bed with a wooden frame. The guest bedroom had a twin. There was a cozy study, with shelves full of books, and an oak desk at the far wall, accompanied by a brown leather chair.

“What’s behind the last door on the end of the hall?” I asked.

“That leads to the attic. It’s filled with clutter and needs to be cleaned. You’re tall, Cole. Six feet, right?

“Yeah, six feet even.”

“Can you change the light bulb up there for me later? It went out.”

A loud thump then a thud came from the ceiling. Someone was up in the attic.