The Seduction of Crystal

Dark things dwell in dark places. Or so the stories go. In the mind's eye, bad people live in the slums of the cities, with crooked teeth, unwashed hair and dirty clothes. These are childish ideals, created by parents to frighten their children. The real evil is disguised in beauty; seductive and mysterious. The real evil comes in many forms, a woman walking down a lighted street, a man disappearing into an alley, the mysterious figure hunched over a dusty volume in a dimly lit library. Whole clubs are populated nightly by them, where no sane person should ever set foot. Once these people have you in their grasp, there is no turning back, and there is no escape. But why escape beauty when it wants you back? Their seduction is complete. This is my story, the seduction of my soul by one these creatures. My master and I met many years ago, on the cold, wet streets of London. But that is not where this story should start. It all began with a book, forgotten until I discovered it, stuck in a desk in a hidden desk while I restored it…

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The building's current owner had just died, and the eccentric old man left the home and all its contents to the historical society. It was one of the first of its kind built in Maine, and one of two that remain intact and in a general state of repair. Unfortunately for the historical society, the man had amassed a large collection of antiques and various items he found interesting, none of which had been catalogued at any time in the past. So, this monstrous task fell to Crystal Fitzgerald, the newly appointed head of the society's library, a job which included the cataloging of newly acquired artifacts and assorted items. This is why on a hot summer day in mid July, Crystal found herself clambering about a stuffy attic, recording everything she could find.

Crystal looked up from her clipboard, the paper filled with the listing of all the items she had recorded already, all 110 of them. And she had only just started. She pushed her short brown hair out of her eyes and leaned against the wall behind her.

"Why on earth did I take this job?"

She said aloud for the tenth time that morning. But this time there was an answer,

"Because you are too crazy to have a normal career." A male voice said from the stairwell.

Crystal smiled at the man on the stairs, "That may be true, but that means you are just as crazy too, Jim."

"I guess so," Jim said, sitting down and handing Crystal one of the glasses of lemonade he held, "But I'd rather be crazy than bored."

Crystal chuckled and took a deep drink from the cold glass.

"You're my savior, I don't think I have the energy to make a trip downstairs then back up here."

"Consider it repayment for getting me on this job and out of the office."

Crystal smiled and once again brushed her hair out of her eyes. She had just cut it, and the shortness of her hair was irritating after having long hair for a number of years.

"How are things coming downstairs?" She asked.

"I finished the living room, but there wasn't really that much in there, and I have started on the dining room, but that is going to take forever. The old man must have enjoyed collecting silverware; there are at least ten full sets, all different, none of which are in any sort of order."

"It's the same story up here, I've gotten through at least a quarter of the room, and there is still an entire other room over there," she pointed at the opposite wall and the single, small door on it.

Jim pointed in the direction of said doorway, "If I were you, I'd finish that little room, and then do the rest. That way, you could potentially move some of this junk into there once you get it recorded. Of course, this plan relies entirely on the assumption that it isn't packed with even more 'historical treasures.'" He snorted and sat his glass down.

Crystal hit his arm, "What we have up here is of great importance. Some of this dates back to the Revolutionary War, and even if it is a bit…dirty… up here, everything is incredible condition."

"There's the history buff I know, peeking thorough the grime of the centuries!"

She rolled her eyes and Jim laughed, taking one last gulp at his lemonade before slamming the glass down and wiping his hands on his shorts.

Jim sighed, "Well, we aren't getting anywhere just sitting here. Back to work!"

Crystal groaned, but sat up anyway. Jim stood up and pulled her to her feet. In the process, she stumbled and fell into him. She looked up into his face, and he grinned back at her, as her cheeks began to flush pink. Jim laughed,

"You know, with looks like that, you could make a married man unfaithful."

Crystal turned a darker red, "Takes one to know one." She bit back, glaring at him for causing this awkward situation. He had recently ended an affair with a married woman, and she did not approve.

He laughed even more and held his hands up.

"You win!" Jim exclaimed, and began to walk towards the staircase, then turned around. "This time," he said with a wink, then headed back down to the lower levels.

Crystal chuckled and pushed her hair out of her face one more time before heading toward the small room she had pointed out earlier.

"Time for a change of scenery," she announced to no one in particular.

Climbing over boxes full of old children's playthings and turn-of-the-century household items, Crystal worked her way over to the door and cleared space in order to open it. Working on the rusty, dust covered handle, Crystal grumbled enough obscenities to put a sailor to shame before she thrust her entire body weight onto the wooden door and stumbled forward into the tiny attic hideaway.

She brushed herself off and turned to assess the room's contents. Compared to the outer area, this was positively spartan. The walls were a very pale shade of blue, and a small painting of a rolling English landscape hung next to an equally small mirror over a small washbasin. A lonely old metal framed bed sat in the corner by the door, and a tiny window on the far wall let in just enough light for Crystal to see that the pale covers on the bed. While covered in at least an inch of dust now, had once been beautiful, though simple. On the far wall, just below and to the left of the window, was an enormous wardrobe, most likely stored up here when a former owner tired of it. Next to it was a modest writing desk on spindlely legs, a common find for a house of this age, with a single horizontal drawer that stretched its entire width. On the desktop, there was an old inkwell, and a small pen rest. Leaning haphazardly against the desk's fragile legs was a very old painting of a man, though from where she was standing; that was all she could speculate was under the dust and grime.

Ducking back out to grab her abandoned clipboard, she turned to a new page and set to recording the contents of this little bedroom. Under the bed, she found a few bits of paper, with what appeared to be a shopping list of sorts and a letter addressed to someone simply known as "Brother" and was written by a woman by the name of Anne. She was warning him against "rash actions" that he knew the consequences for already. In the wardrobe, she found a single, worn blue dress and a pair of plain black heeled shoes. Though she was no clothing expert, the gown looked like those worn by servants and lower class women towards the end of the 19th century, presumably when Anne had lived. Stuck in the bottom drawer was a small key. It looked older than time and Crystal stuck it in her pocket. She would catalog it and take it back to the society's library later.

After she had combed over the wardrobe, looking for anything that might be hidden there, she started on the writing desk. The chair was noticeably gone, so Crystal drug on of the more sturdy wooden boxes from the main room to sit on. Brushing off some of the dust that had accumulated, she gave the top drawer a gentle tug and it slid out with surprising ease, almost as though it was brand new. In the drawer were two pens, some loose paper similar to those she had found under the bed, and a necklace. Crystal pulled the fine silver chain out of the dark, dusty drawer and was shocked to find it had a small pendant attached.

Moving into the small stream of direct light from the window, Crystal rolled the pendant over in her hand. It was a teardrop shaped stone of a dark red color ruby, deep red, almost blood, attached to the chain by a delicate cap that went over the point of the drop. The chain was of the highest craftsmanship, and was so fine, she could barely see the links. This was not a piece of jewelry one would normally expect to find in a maid's quarters.