House of Scales

Chapter 6: The Silence of the Grave

The pitiful shouts and groans would continue to accompany him up the narrow staircase. Gone would be the incessant echoes of the metal being struck with frustration. A deep breath followed by a muffled sigh from the draught as the door closed, and the screams disappeared. Surely the complaints would continue beneath his feet, filling the room with snorts and insults.

He resigned himself, knowing that everything he did was for a good cause. And having calmed his spirit and mind, he took one of the cigarettes from the furniture in the corridor and took the stairs to the upper floor. He stopped short and, after tapping his forehead, he went down the steps he had climbed to the room at the end of the corridor. He quickly disposed of the long garment he was wearing and picked up one of the lighters on the marble shelf before going back to the second floor.

The moans were heard again, agonising panting, hurting and annoying that echoed throughout the hallway. The attention to such a cry for help drew the attention of a few steps who rushed to the room where those noises were born. He opened softly, as if he feared that what he held behind the threshold would awaken, even though it was already awake.

"There, there," a hoarse, tired voice quieted. "I have brought the medicine."

He came closer, as he had learned all that time, and sat down on the edge of the great bed in the room. There he began to prepare the various utensils, mussels, and jars which had been carefully arranged on a silver platter. He gathered what was necessary and began to work without rest while the thread of voice was lost in the routine conversation of the day. Explaining how the week had begun, he prepared various mixtures in sterilised syringes and grouped some pills next to a nearby glass.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked, knowing that he would get a brief murmur in reply.

"Oh yes, what a fool I am," he said to himself as he started to give the first injections which he had left on the bedside table. "You'll feel much better now."

The thin metal spire pierced the skin after some initial difficulty. It went into the darkness of the veins and poured out all the dark liquid which could be seen through the translucent glass of the syringe. The arm gave a slight gasp that frightened the fingers that held it gently.

"There, my dear, there," he said in a sweeter tone.

Her breath quieted with a sigh, and the low voice rose again to comfort the patient who waited for the actions of her saviour like a blessing. She could not help it, for she needed that poison to continue the life she was clinging to. That dark, unknown liquid, which might well have been the poison to which her soul had become accustomed, was what took away her pain and relieved her of her constant nightmares. He knew this, and that is why he took such great pains to prepare everything.

"This week it was time to increase the dose a little, to prepare you for the change," he said as he put down the syringes and ordered the pills.

He did everything methodically, as he had learned from daily repetition. Under the canopy to one side and on the purple sheets, his every action was a reflection of his feelings, with the care with which a new-born baby is stroked. Only in this way could he soothe the anguish reflected in the silent blue eyes. The figure lifted her head and gasped with a dry throat.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," the man said as he poured the water into the glass of the shiny metal vessel on the bedside table. "These pills will calm the pain and allow you to sleep peacefully, without any more nightmares, don't you think that's fantastic?"

She would have wanted to answer, but she could do nothing but nod her head as the water poured over her lips and she swallowed it in short sips. The cold of the liquid froze her chest as she lost herself in it and brought down the temperature of her whole body.

"And that's it for today, my dear, you don't need any more of this stuff," he hurriedly pushed everything that was bothering him aside and put it on the chest of drawers in front of the bed. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

The question remained unanswered, perhaps because the power of the dose she had received was already beginning to have sufficient effect to make her mind fly away.

"Soon you won't need any of this," he promised solemnly. "Everything will change soon, and we can forget about it, laugh about it."

The absence of her reply served to continue the conversation in his head, where she did respond to his words. His voice continued, affectionately, flooding the room and seeking the tranquillity of the figure that rested on the bed on which he had just laid down. There his fingers had sought to glide over the mane gathered on the pillow. They caressed her with kindness and empathy, looking for the silky sensation of yesteryear; now dry and withered, like her.

"We'll soon have it all back, my dear," he dreamily said as he reached out to touch her fingertips with his own. "After all this effort, after all this sacrifice, we will come back. I promise you."

He was going to wait for an answer when a dull sound, like something massive falling, sounded from the floor below.

"I suppose one can't stop," he jokingly said as he approached the pillow with great affection. "I must get away from you a little longer, dear."

The figure on the bed, inert and unable to respond to affection, was just waiting to be reflected in the blue eyes of the one who was now rocking her in his arms in a sweet farewell.

"I'll be back..."

From there, even with the door closed, one could hear the screams from downstairs. Shrieks of rage and madness that shook the walls of the house and sought to draw the attention that the man only wanted to devote to the reason his heart was beating.

"It seems that the little one is calling me."

His lips moved closer to her forehead to leave the last kiss on the now sleeping figure resting on the purple sheets. The mouth received the chill of cold skin contact and caused a wince which shook the man's body. His blue eyes didn't cease to gaze at her in the sepulchral stillness of her resting place until they left the room to answer the pleas of someone who now needed him as well.