Mistol; A New Beginning – Chapter One

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Mistol; A New Beginning – Cover

ONE.

           

            John Morgan sauntered into his Grandma’s stately and glamorous mansion, the colours of jade and white. The house was covered on one side by a monstrous ivy growth that had staked its claim there a long time ago. The three story building was old yet somehow more beautiful for it. Its grand levels were decorated with the up-most care and due attention. John’s Grandmother had never told him how the family had come by this beautiful home, all she would tell John when he asked was that their family had inherited it. In any-case John was grateful of this after his mother died when he was only six years old. It was after this that he went to live with his Grandmother, Jade. Now twelve years later John was looking forward to a nice quiet dinner with his favourite relative. So when he found Rose waiting for him in the family room sat on his seat, a rather stunning antique silk gold and crimson red stripped armchair; anchored in just the right place to be close enough to the fireplace to feel the heat but not close enough that it was too hot, John gave a small sigh of frustration. Rose Ayers was a good friend of John’s; they had grown up together in Jade’s house after Rose appeared one day. Johns Grandma had said she was the Grand-daughter of an old friend and both her Grandparents and parents were dead. John however had never seen Rose as a sibling. Rather, a constant playmate; someone to play games with, to laugh and generally be happy with. So when she began to grow up and become more of a woman John was protective and if he was honest with himself; attracted.

            “Hi John.” Rose said sweetly with a big grin on her face; a grin John knew all too well, for that particular grin usually meant they were going to get in trouble. John walked up to Rose and sat on the arm of the crimson and gold pinstriped easy-chair.

“How are you doing Rose?” John asked easing into the back on the chair, his entire body relaxing. Rose looked up at him and perched her lips thinking about the answer, after a moment she smiled and said;

“Well I can’t complain.” Rose then stood up and walked over to the med-evil fireplace. Its intricate and stunning design always drew her to that fireplace. It was larger than her; the mouth standing at six feet tall, above that was a stunning arch with a lip running along the edge, it was made completely of stone with two large owls sitting on each end of the mantel, both of the owls were unique. The smaller of the two had a ‘K’ in old English writing under it and under the larger of them was an ‘N’. The detail was astounding to the point were they could well have been alive. And directly above and between them was a large Celtic cross, entwined around it was a rose with sharp thorns.

 

            John watched as for the thousands time Rose ran her fingers over the rough and beautiful work of art, the very heart of the house. He watched as Rose’s dark brown hair fell on her face, he watched as she swept it back and leaned against the mantel.

“So, where is Grandma Jade?” John asked looking at the cross engraved into the fireplace. Rose thought for a moment and answered in an honest tone;

“I don’t know she said she wanted to talk to me; she told me to be home at four.” As Rose talked a sliver of concern crept into her voice. John saw a flicker of fear flash in her eyes as Rose must have been thinking the unimaginable.

“That’s strange,” John thought out loud; “Grandma Jade said the same thing to me. The pair of them fell into a worried silence, both of them contemplating the worst.

 

            When the phone rang John and Rose snapped out of their trance like state and stared at each other. John stood up and walked quickly up to the phone on the other side of the room, his quick footsteps fell hard on the deep oak floorboards, once he had reached the phone John clasped it up in his right hand; the ringing cut off abruptly as John lifted the phone to his ear;

“Hello.”

 

 

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