Strangely Familiar

“People are supposed to fear the unknown, but ignorance is bliss when knowledge is so damn frightening.” ― Laurell K. Hamilton, The Laughing Corpse

The drive to the Brickstone Mansion took much longer than expected. As it turned out, the traces of tremors in numerous locations caused traffic diversion, so the family was forced to take the longer route. It was exhausting, but primarily frightening, to see earth devour everything beneath it.

Naina cringed slightly as she changed her posture. Her back ached as she flexed her muscles to induce some movement. Their cab halted at its desired stoppage, according to the coordinates. They stood in the middle of the barren road, following twists and sharp turns ahead, surrounded by small peaks. The GPS couldn’t trace the location further, much to her surprise.

One hundred percent accuracy is hardly seen in any navigation tool, no matter how close they manage to get. She supposed.

They stepped out of the cab and stretched their sore limbs after a twenty-eight-hour drive. Of course, they were stationed at two different junctions to rest for a while, but it was still a part of their journey. Naina prayed to could get some nice night’s sleep once they arrived at their destination.

“That’s weird,” Samraat’s muddled expression did not go unnoticed, even with his head down, neck bending to an unhealthy degree, eyes straining, and gaze pinned on his cell phone. “According to statistics, the Mansion should be here at this very spot.”

He looked up to match the frowning stare of their father, who shook his head disapprovingly in response. “You pay too much attention to your phone nowadays.”

Naina couldn’t help but agree as she suppressed her grin.

“But math is never wrong.” Samraat tried to reason, his gaze wandering at his sister for help, “Back me up, Nans. It’s the only subject you are good at.”

Naina tried hard not to be offended. She was also good at Physics, but that wasn’t important. Her brow furrowed slightly in response to his words. “No, it isn’t, but technical errors happen. I’m confident it’s nothing.”

“Oh really?” Samraat challenged her. “If that is true, then where is the Mansion?”

“Right there!” Mrs. Shreeparna Patil exclaimed, her right arm stretched forward, finger aiming towards the north.

Her three companions followed her gaze to the topmost pinnacle of the mansion, which stared down at them. It appeared impossibly old, with razor-sharp edges jutting upwards, giving it an antique appearance.

“I swear I just looked in that direction moments ago but found nothing.” Naina couldn’t help but share the oddity of the situation.

“Just like many other times, when I ask you to locate a spatula in the kitchen, and yet you find nothing until I point it out to you?” Her mother countered, reciprocating her logic.

Naina’s jaws felt gravity take control as they opened wide on their own account and remained stationary in shock or amazement. She could not tell, her eyes still wide, unable to digest the latest development.

“Close your mouth!” Her brother smirked playfully as he passed her, “Wish there were flies around.”

“C’mon, follow me.”

It was no surprise that their mother often took it upon herself to act as the leader of the entire group. Sighing at the path ahead that seemed no less than a mile, they started walking with luggage in hand, and though not entirely aimless, the sun continued to glower above them as they traced her path, tailing her shadow.

“You believe me, don’t you, Sammy?” She whispered, outside their parents’ reach.

“That you failed to locate the spatula and other kitchen tools until Ma pointed it out to you? Yes.” He agreed, but when he saw her expression darken, he retracted carefully.

“Okay, okay,” he began, barely audible if not for his voice being so close to her ears. “I know you aren’t daft enough to overlook a freaking Mansion.”

“Thanks, brother!”

He chuckled. “Anytime.”

The manor grew as they got closer, so much so that their scopes couldn’t accommodate its scale in a single frame. They had to wobble their heads from left to right to size up the vast perimeter.

“Your ancestors were filthy rich, Ma!” Samraat gaped at the view in front of him.

“Mind your tongue, Sam. I’ll not have you insulting my ancestors.” Mrs. Patil scolded, narrowing her eyes at her son’s downright and utter lack of respect.

The Brickstone Mansion was rightly called. It was an ancient building made of red and brown bricks and stones wrapped up in a strange concoction of carvings and designs on and around the walls in every nook and cranny. A substantial iron gate that stood nearly ten feet tall protected the main entrance. The model’s creator ensured that no burglar could flee if they wanted to. Although a little gate was attached in the middle, something one would miss if they didn’t look closely. One would think it was meant for visitors to come by, which is curious, considering the place has hardly ever seen any.

All in all, it was just another huge building made of bricks and stones. Not very imaginative on the part of individuals remembered solely for their contribution to art and creativity. Naina mentally scoffed at her thought.

“I have asked the servants to clean up the East Wing.” Mrs. Patil waved her hand in that direction, her voice wavering slightly, and without looking back, said, “Explore, pick up a room, and make yourself comfortable.”

Naina felt a strange feeling creeping up her spine as her body suddenly jerked out of nowhere. It was hot and windy at this time of the day, and yet she felt shivers. She decided to follow her mother’s instructions lest she catch a cold.

No matter how much her cognitive mind wanted to cooperate and move, she remained rooted on the spot, her gaze locked on the opposite end of the building. She wasn’t aware she was staring into nothingness until a hand shook her, drawing her back to reality.

“You’re dozing off again.” Her brother remarked, knitting his eyebrows, though the frown on his face was more due to glaring heat than her distinctive state.

“Sorry.” She managed a strained smile, her eyes squinting slightly.

Bags in hand, they hurriedly marched forward to where their parents were heading. The inside of the Eastern Wing of the Mansion stopped them dead on track. The inside view was nothing fancy but simply magnificent in its ancient beauty. They were greeted by a large dining hall with a staircase sticking to the edge of the walls, supporting the floors above their heads. The room was spacious enough to provide shelter for twenty-five people at the very least.

Naina wondered why the place had never been commercially used. Their parents could have made a fortune singlehandedly by simply investing in it. Her brother, on the other hand, felt awestruck. His mind couldn’t contain the idea of living under such mighty roofs since they had never been the ones to have more than what was strictly necessary. As rich as their parents might be, they always made sure their children lived a pretty average yet comfortable life.

“Why haven’t we been here before on vacations or holidays?”

Samraat felt he was not the only one whose curiosity was palpable as his sister nodded briefly at his words, looking at their mother in expectation.

Mrs. Patil knew she couldn’t escape their inquisitiveness for long, especially after arriving inside the Mansion. Having raised them, she knew her kids had never been the ones to get easily deflected from their path. The place holds old memories, one she wasn’t very fond of. Her loving husband knows that. It was part of her life that had been buried so deep within her that even the rush of sentiments and surfacing emotions couldn’t dig their way out. Not that she would allow it, should it ever happen.

Controlling her inner state and gripping her feelings firmly, she gave them a warm smile.

“You’ll find that living inside a Mansion isn’t as easy as one might assume.”

She spoke truthfully, her pupils dilating slightly at the sheer honesty and sincerity of her words clear on her face. If only the two children she considered her own, who looked even more perplexed than before, could sense that.

Naina nodded absentmindedly and flashed an unguarded gaze in all directions. She, like her brother, was unaccustomed to large, empty expanses. It appears to be secluded and empty. Distant and desolate. Like something did not fit in.

It would have served as a spacious playground if they had been youngsters, but they were well past that age.

As she moved, her eyes quickly settled on a large portrait at the far end of the corridor. She followed her trail until she came face to face with the person inside the photo. Her eyesight constricted slightly as she examined the image, her focus fixed on the eyes. Something was unsettling about him.

“That’s the true owner of this place.” She heard her mother’s voice behind her.

“Do we have his picture in our family album?”

“No, absolutely not. Why do you ask?”

Naina opened her mouth to speak, and simultaneously turned her head but was surprised to see her mother standing a meter away from her, a determined look claiming her eyes.

“Come closer, Ma. The painting isn’t going to attack you.” Naina joked lightly, trying to diffuse strangely erupted tension, as she rested her weight from one foot to another.

Her mother smiled warily in return.

Mrs. Shreeparna Patil wanted to speak but decided against it as she stared at the painting of the man in the portrait. The owner, the designer of the mansion, the first talented and powerful man, was standing right in front of her.

“Dad’s tired, so he excused himself, and went to take a nap.” Samraat appeared at her side and looked at the picture indifferently. “Who are we staring at?”

“The owner of this place,” Naina answered, peeking back at her mother who was still in the same spot, engrossed, and undoubtedly in deep thought. “What is his name again?”

Her mother snapped out of her trance and spoke, her voice husky. “Shaurya. His name was Shaurya Lomhani.”

Naina’s mind circulated the name again, her tongue moving on her own accord, as her sight caught the painting once again. His eyes were like pools of the clearest water, but a strange shadow lurked at the bottom, making them both sharp and intelligent. A touch of redness tinged the edges, giving his gaze a dark cast. He had firm cheekbones and a strong jaw, dark eyebrows over dark eyes that went into the depth of the darkest shade of black. His nose was sharp and slightly curved as if it had been broken in some long-ago conflict. The scars on his face told a story of war, of endurance that would not be denied. He bore a short-cropped beard over his mouth like that of an ancient god.

Too real to be a portrait.

It appeared like he was glowering at the painter for some reason, his jaws clenched, shoulders tensed, and fist enclosed, concealing an object firmly within his grip. Even in his annoyed state, he was exceptionally handsome.

Mrs. Patil cleared her throat, gaining the attention of the other two occupants. “Explore all you want as long as you stay in this wing. Okay?”

“Why?”

“What about the other one?”

Their curiosity was so perceptible, it was almost tangible, but unfortunately, couldn’t be entertained further. Mrs. Patil knew she has to put a leash around it. After all, they were treading in far too dangerous water to go any further.

“It’s under maintenance. There is nothing to see.” Her voice was sharp and uncompromising, leaving no room for argument. “Besides, we are not here on vacation. Consider yourself lucky that you are alive.”

Both her children couldn’t help but nod their heads in agreement. It was true, they were indeed lucky.

Just like her words, their mother barely nodded, and without feeding them with any more information or explanation, retreated to her room.

Both Naina and Samraat passed each other with curious looks, raising their eyebrows purposely as if silently interrogating one another to describe what had just occurred. Shrugging his shoulders, Samrat dismissed the entire confusion of their mother’s odd behavior, advocating that she was probably just tired after the long journey.

Naina, as much as she wanted to agree, couldn’t wipe off the strange sensation inside her, creeping now and then, as she brought up her clenched fist closer to her chest to normalize her erratic heartbeats.

Rubbing the side of her arms absentmindedly, and almost subconsciously, she peered at the painting again but suddenly stepped back in fright. It was only so much she could do not to gasp out loud. Her heartbeats accelerated once more as she rubbed her clenched fist over her chest repeatedly. Shaking her head at the absurdity of her thoughts, she took a few deep breaths and made her way back to her room thinking her tired mind was just deluding her.

If only she would have paid attention to her rationality and called another witness to support her vivid thoughts that she believed were manipulated by her clogged mind, she would have noticed her vision was not at all tricked.

The portrait appeared positively relaxed.