Chapter 21 - The Ice Cold Whisper in the Dark
The breath on Arthur’s neck was cold enough to freeze the blood in his veins.
He did not turn around immediately, his body locked in sheer, paralyzing terror.
Down below in the snow, Eleanor stood motionless beside Thomas, her dead eyes locked onto the second-floor window.
"Did you really believe she was the only one who hated you?" the voice hissed again.
Arthur spun around, raising the heavy revolver with shaking hands.
Standing in the doorway of the bedroom was not a ghost, but Dr. Julian Sterling, clutching a surgical scalpel.
Julian was drenched in melted snow, his tailored coat torn and smeared with coal dust from the basement chute.
"Put the gun down, Arthur," Julian said softly, stepping forward with eerie calmness.
"You helped her break out," Arthur choked out, his finger trembling over the trigger. "You were her doctor!"
"I was her partner long before you bought this miserable house with blood money," Julian replied with a twisted sneer.
Before Arthur could pull the trigger, the front doors downstairs shattered inward with the violent crunch of splintering mahogany.
The roar of the freezing wind rushed into the house, carrying the pungent stench of gasoline.
"Arthur, darling!" Eleanor’s voice echoed up the grand spiral staircase, sweet and sharp as broken glass.
"Come down and greet your family," she called out, her voice bouncing off the vaulted ceilings.
Julian lunged forward without warning, driving his shoulder straight into Arthur’s chest.
The gun fired into the plaster ceiling, raining white dust over both men as they crashed to the floorboards.
Arthur cried out as Julian drove a knee into his ribs, wrestling fiercely for control of the weapon.
The gun slid across the polished hardwood floor, disappearing beneath the heavy mahogany armoire.
Julian struck Arthur across the jaw with the heavy brass handle of the scalpel, splitting Arthur's cheek wide open.
Arthur groaned, his vision swimming in streaks of fiery red and blinding white.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps began ascending the stairs, accompanied by the metallic clink of a swinging bronze candlestick.
Eleanor appeared in the doorway, framed by the shadows of the hallway.
She wore black leather gloves, and her eyes sparkled with a manic, predatory glee.
"You always were clumsy, Arthur," she said, tapping the heavy candlestick against her palm.
Behind her, Thomas stepped into the room, tossing a heavy can of industrial accelerant onto the carpet.
"Check his pockets, Julian," Thomas ordered coldly, his breath billowing in the freezing draft. "The Kennebunk safety deposit key is on him."
Arthur tried to push himself up, his chin dripping dark crimson onto his shirt collar.
"You won't get away with this," Arthur gasped, glaring at his brother. "The police know she escaped."
Eleanor knelt beside him, bringing her face inches from his ear so he could smell the faint lavender perfume masking the stench of prison lye.
"The police think I died in the river, sweetheart," she whispered against his skin.
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Then she raised the heavy bronze candlestick high above Arthur’s skull.
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