The Chronicles of the Black Crystal. Vol: 1: Andrew River
Chapter 8: The Interrogation

I hardly got any sleep that night. When I awoke, there was an eerie silence. Which was unusual. The birds weren’t chirping, nor, could you hear the maids doing their chores. For a moment, I thought I lost my hearing during the night. That was not the case, though. I pushed myself off the bed to proceed to my latched door. Un-did, the lock, open the heavy door and peered my head out onto the deserted corridor.

The rays of early morning sunshine were the only friend that occupied the lonesome hallway. I swiveled my head to Master Jim’s study. Long, shadows were traveling over the floor. I quickly put some proper clothes on, before I commenced to head up to his study. To investigate who had been in there. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

There had a quiet whisper that protruded out of the study. Whispers, and whispers from strangers near me. They were echoing now; but still in a whisper like a state. The voices were not in the hallway, nor were they coming from the study. But they were closer than any sound anybody could produce from their mouths. These voices were strange as they talked and mumbled to me. I was very scared, and they sensed my emotions. As my emotional state became louder so did their voices; they thrived on it. The horrible truth emerged into my thoughts. These voices were speaking in my mind. And when I made this connection they stopped. I found out their secret. How were they communicating? They were not hiding from me. And I wasn’t hiding from them. I had been the only one who could have a conversation in my mind. Now, whoever was performing this intrigued me. They were breaking every law of creation. How were they doing what they were doing to me? How were they speaking in my mind? How could they even access it, without my knowledge? The more I thought about this concept I was more confused on the ability they had in my conscience. People do not have such power. Or do they? Can somebody rummage in someone’s mind and have an elite conversation with them. Without anyone else knowing? Every moment I ponder these questions the more I wanted to meet these people. However, not an average person can conjure such power. These people could have been very dangerous. And I had to keep that in mind.

The shadows continued to parade on the floor of Master Jim’s private room. There must have been five or even six people pacing throughout. And I knew that was impossible; for Master Jim’s study, could not fit six people. Even the presence of four individuals made it cramped. With his desk’s, books, chairs and so forth there would not be enough room for five to six people; to even move about comfortable. Another mystery that I had to figure out. As I got closer to the entrance, the shadows became more prominent. Not drawn out and unrecognizable. These shadows were of a group of men. With overcoats, that hung to their knees. And form fitting pants. On their feet, they were wearing boots. And their boots touched the ground. The best way to describe such a scene is to explain it in the way that the shadows did not have bodies. The shadows had their own conscious and soul. They could move around by themselves with no counterpart. This scene just added to the list of mysteries that had befallen in a short time.

With a wink of hesitation, I voiced a little, “Hello?”

The sound that my voice made reverberated from off the walls. The shadows stopped immediately. I entered the study, but to my surprise, no one was there. How could there have been no one in here? Five to six shadows were coming from this room. I saw them with my own eyes.

“Hello, is anyone in here?” I repeated.

The library had been lit from the morning sunshine that came from the two windows that were in the room. Everything seemed untouched. The bookshelves had been filled with maps and ancient scrolls; a desk, closest to the door, had open manuscripts and handwritten letters. The manner of the library had a messy, organized appearance. As I walked nearer to the shelves to admire the collection that Master Jim Hensworth had, the whispers came back. They were screaming! The level of panic that I had possessed increased!

“Hello....” A large object whacked against my head. My body slammed down on the floor.

“Wake up boy, wake up. We do not have the entire day!” A hand slapped my face to arouse me.

I woke up with confusion; I had trouble to focus on the simplest of objects. As I sat up, my head pounded with pain! (Until this very moment, my body laid on unknown ground.) My hands encased over my head to alleviate the affliction going on. But to my surprise, my wrists were tied tight in front of me.

I took in my surroundings. We sojourned in a clearing of dead grass. Torches encircled the edge of the tree line. With men wearing black garb guarding the torches themselves. As I looked up to my side, a young man met my gaze. He had no emotion on his face. His eyes, which had a glare of a shimmering red tint on them, screamed with hate! A broken twig took hold of our attention back, to notice the Gray-Haired Man. He proceeded out the darkness that the night produced. My nightmare was about to play out before my eyes. Fear crept over me.

The attire of the Gray-Haired Man was of evil. He wore a raven color, silver pinstriped suit. The cuff links on his sleeves matched his hair. His pointy, shoes complemented his apparel perfectly.

He spoke to me when he had reached me, ” Andrew, it has been a while since I last seen you. If I do recall correctly, ten years ago. I do have to admit your age had surprised me. Fifteen is a very creative age. I had trouble finding you at first, but look, now you are here! ” He talked in a happy attitude.

“Have we met prior?” I questioned

The men from the edge of the clearing came closer to my presence. With each of their steps, anxiety slithered into my being.

The Gray-Haired Man gave his grin and stated,” My name is Dylan, I bet my bottom dollar you knew that. You have something that belongs to me. And I want it back! ” He screamed this last sentence.

“I have nothing that belongs to you!” I declared in a terrified tone.

Dylan knelt to my level, for I was still sitting on the ground. “You were always an excellent lair.” An evil smirk formed on his face while his eyes examined me. He looked up to his accomplice who was beside me and gave him the nod.

His associate picked me up and discarded my body to my knees.

“We shall proceed with the interrogation until we find what we are looking for; do not stop, until I give the command," Dylan said to everyone that had now surrounded me.

A massive, density accessed my brain. A power of which, I had no control over my limbs. There were many things I could remember during this interrogation. The pain was a huge factor, but also the flashes. Flashes of landmarks, mountain ranges, boats, crystal blue oceans, algae filled lakes, the painting of the Black Crystal and the satchel which started everything.

Throughout all of this, I could hear Dylan say, ” Where did you place it?! Who did you give it too as a possession?! Do you have it?!” Continually, he repeated these same questions. Dylan recited his words, and the pain transpired to the next level.

I burst into a scream; I could no longer take the agony. “Ahhhhhh! Stop, please stop! I beg of you!”

“Tell me where it is, and the pain will cease to exist. ” Dylan said in a compassionate tone.

" Where what is? I don’t have anything! Please Sto OOO PPP!”

Agony, pain, anguish. How can I describe such torture? Dylan was the most protruding voice that came over me. But I could hear his minions murmuring incantations in the background. Then Dylan to was murmuring. His voice echoed gained more distance from my conscience. He stopped for the time being.

I slowly opened my eyes, to see I was still sitting on my knees. So much pain encased my being, I let out a mild moan. The process of getting air into my lungs had been laborious. I felt warm liquid had been on my face, then a drop of blood slowly went onto the ropes that were on my wrists. Before I could flinch, even if I could have flinched from this agony, my head got yanked back. Dylan had now been looking down to me, and I was looking up to him. But he wasn’t the one that held my hair. He pulled out a handkerchief from his inside coat pocket.

" Look at you. It didn’t have to come to this.” As he cleaned the blood away from my nose. He continued, “If I would had kept on going your body would have given way. You would have passed. It does not have to be this way; I do not want to kill you. I will ask you once again later. Till then, sleep.” He said in a calm voice.

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