The Wine Room
By Earvin Eugene
Copyright © 2020 by Earvin P Eugene
All rights reserved.
"You decide", stated the man with the droopy leg once more. I listened to the vague sound of broken glass and stumbling steps on the banner in the corridor outside. The door screeched on its edges as a second old man set foot in, more crippled, more undesirable, more ancient even than the original. He was assisted by a prop; his eyes were dark and without life. His lips were disfigured and stained by wine. His teeth were yellow and poorly managed. He made his way to an archaic Windsor chair. He sat on the opposite side of the wooden table. The aged man was graceless and began to wheeze. The man with the droopy leg gave the interloper a sharp stare of detest; a mature lady paid no attention of his entrance but maintained her gaze on the television.
I mentioned – "it's your own resolve," stated the guy with the droopy leg
when the wheezing had stopped for a moment. "You decide," I replied.
The man with the dark eyes realized I was present for the first time and relaxed his head back for a short period of time. He made sure to take a glimpse of me. Our eyes matched for a split second. His eyes were tiny and deranged. Soon, he wheezed and expelled phlegm.
"How come you do not enjoy to drink?" stated the guy with the droopy leg, enticing me with a glass of wine. The old fellow with the dark eyes presented a full glass as his hands trembled. The wine would partially spill on the crafted table. A magnificent silhouette of him bent upon the partition and demonstrated his movements as he emerged and drank. I must tell you I had rarely thought of these nasty custodians. To me there is something unfavorable about feebleness, something distorted and passé; the normal conditions appear to be removed from prehistoric individuals unconsciously over time. All of them created an inappropriate atmosphere with their mythical stillness, their crouched demeanor, their known hastiness to everyone. And that evening, probably, my temperament was acceptable of unbearable suspicion. I was determined to be removed from their indefinite presage of the bad things below.
I stated, "On condition that you will exhibit to me this unearthly room of yours, I will live there." The wise man who wheezed pushed his head back so abruptly that it scared me, and the appearance of a stare from his bloodshot eyes directly towards me out of his inky darkness, there was no response. I sat tight, looking from one to another. The mature lady gazed her eyes similar to a corpse into the T.V. with no emotion.
I exclaimed, "You should show me this wine room so that you are not obligated to spend time with me!" The old man with the droopy leg expressed that, "If you observe the door, there is a light beside it." The guy proclaimed, "You should not go tonight."
With a silent murmur, the mature lady whispered, "Tonight is a dreadful
night."
"Will you attempt this task?" I replied, "I am not afraid, I can go at this
moment. How do I arrive there?"
"The best route is to take the path towards the corner stairs," he said it in a shady fashion, "once you reach downstairs through the creaky steps, pass one door and on the left is a second entrance shielded by a blue curtain. Venture on through, and down the narrow passageway to the end, and the wine room is on your right down the staircase."
I repeated the commands to ensure no error. "I think I got it." He was amused and verified the directions. "Are you sure this is what you wish to do?", stated the dark eyed man, viewing me repeatedly with that peculiar and unsatisfied disposition in his face. The mature lady mentioned, "Tonight is a dangerous night!" I replied, "That is what I intend to do", I made my way towards the door. As I positioned myself, the ancient man with the dark eyes and was clumsy around the table, it seemed to be next to the others by the television. At the entryway I turned and viewed them, it appeared that they were all aligned together, dim by the television, glaring at me over their shoulders, with an aimed purpose over their archaic faces. I stated, "see you later," entering through the door… "You decide", whispered the man with the droopy leg.
The door peered open until the T.V. was shining, and then I left their presence, and stumbled down the cold hall. I thought to myself that it was weird of these three ancient characters presided in this dwelling. The relic furniture they gathered at, perplexed me as I attempted to remain calm. They seemed to be reminiscent of the past, traditional, and ancient. It resembled a time in which spirituality and fables were profound and respected. Things resembled dark fairytales and old curses, a place where stories of vampires and werewolves seemed plausible; the setting was ghouling and creepy. The decorations in the room were ghostly – there was images of lost men, and a haunted world. The hall was cold and dirty. The area was dim and only slightly lit by my phone. I heard sounds and whispers of an unknown source. There appeared to be distorted shadows and strange movements behind me. There was frantic paranoia that would halt to silence as I passed down the staircase. I made my way through the blue curtain and was alone with my thoughts in the creepy hallway.
Nothing was as it seemed. In a dazzling haze from the moonlight, there was a glitter of light directed through the glass window to the steps. The setting was dimly lit at the dark setting. Everything appeared to be organized. The abandoned location looked as if it was inhabited moments ago. There were lit lamps that made the settled dust visible. No sound was made. The calmness felt grave. I persisted then ceased to move. A shadow fell over me as I witnessed something lurking around the corner. It was a red presence that quickly dissolved as soon as it was noticed. This brought chills down my spine. It felt as if someone or something was breathing down my neck. I was rigid with nerves. The background contrasted with bright paneling against dark floors. I proceed, only to address a porcelain relic of an elephant, perhaps of ancient Indian influence and deer miniature statue, they shined by the moonlight. As I searched around, I bear witness to an artifact coyote on a console table. It was dignified yet appeared out of place.
The entrance to the wine room and the path to it were tenebrous. I mobilized the light from my cellphone across the area to view the setting. I contemplated the purpose of this jilted cellar in the corner of this residence. I imagined the history and memory that lie upon this forsaken room. This developed to anxiety for the fear of the unknown. I took one last gander of the ornaments that surrounded me. Placing my focus on the coyote relic, I felt strange remorse. Nonetheless, I peeked through the door of the wine room. Nothing could be identified. It was pitch black and vast.
With swiftness, I completely opened the door, entered, and closed the door behind me. I was reminded of the past people who have lived and died here. They could have been renown idols or tormented souls. There was a superstitious story of a husband who played cruel jokes on his wife and in return one day after years of harassment murdered her husband in cold blood. Furthermore, there were rumors of a celebrity who owned this establishment for quite some time and would enjoy the best wines. He would invite guests from around the world to taste the splendid drink. They would discuss the remarkable experiences of life. Until one day, whether to a bad batch or careless over-drinking died of unrevealed causes. It made front page news! Many were heartbroken and distraught. Nobody knows for a fact of the true cause of death. These walls have seen unspoken accounts.
To relieve my fascination of the room, I began to inspect all corners. The cracked window. The dusty furniture. The discolored curtains. The wood within the cellar was sturdy and defined. I focused my attention on the mirrors, the decoration was in particular order. My reflection appeared terrible. To witness myself in the middle of this horrific room. The light from my cellphone reminded me that I was a guest from the future in this old and sacred cellar. I felt skittish. I knew I did not belong here.
With some time my thoughts became clear. The room seemed simple. I asked myself, "How could ghosts and horrors be present here?" I recollected of images of the three ancient figures above. The two old men and the mature lady were stamped in my brain. I considered the idea of wary people connected to this wine room. The moonlight and the lamp light danced across the room as if it was competing with the darkness. I felt naked and afraid.
I started building confidence with the use of my phone. I was aware that it provided me light and I could capture any supernatural event. I began thinking to myself that if some sort of ghost or ghoul were to grace me with its presence it would be documented. I could call for help. My phone provided comfort. In a strange world where the new mixed with the old, I was on the more advanced side.
However, during my watch I realized a smartphone is not perfect. I would monitor my features. I noticed my battery was running low. I could not be left alone here, in the dark, combatting with this mysterious place. I ensured to place my phone on battery save mode to prevent unexpected things. In the back of my mind I was weary. I was fully aware of the time that passed. Everything felt slow.
Soon, several lamp lights went dark. It was surprising. I did not know the cause of this event. The room had my full attention. I attempted to fix the lamps, but it was of no use. There was a shape of something in the shadows. Inimitably, I was afraid. I yelled, "Go away!"
In a short period of time, as I attempted to fix the broken lamps, more became dim. In a berserk set of events as I tried to fix the lamps, more became broken. I was in a frantic struggle to make the wine room safe as it became undone. I tripped on the rug and hurt my arm. I grabbed one ancient bottle of wine in sudden terror. It had no statements to determine year or type. I would steal this relic to remind others of my brave trip. I could be remembered a hero.
Suddenly, the room became so dark that I was angry for taking this adventure. I ran with the bottle, doing my best to escape this dungeon. I felt a battle between me and something lurking in the dark. It was overwhelming. I lost consciousness.
When I was awake, I suffered multiple damages. My head was covered, my arm bloody, and feet uncomfortable. To my shock, there was the old man with the droopy leg taking care of me. I was confused and in a loss of words. The mature lady nurtured me. She applied medicine on my wounds. The aged men discussed with confidence as if they were stating facts. The old man with the dark eyes, now in a more amiable manner, stated "Do you believe that the wine room is dangerous?" I replied, "Yes, that wine cellar is haunted!" These ancient figures appeared affectionate, as if all my preconceived notions were all paranoia. I described to these wise individuals, that fear drives the mind insane. "Being alone in that wretched room, brings treacherous thoughts that expand the imagination." Available, was the unidentifiable wine. I said, "Here is a souvenir of the fearful mind." We all shared the fruits of our labor and drank the red liquid from the Wine Room. We prayed that the wine would help us forget the dark fear that lurks in all of us.