Excerpt: Mons Regius

November 8th, 2008
Andrea found herself looking down at the card in her fingers, checking the address once more before climbing out of the cab and onto the sidewalk. She waved a goodbye to the driver, having already paid him for his service, and turned again to face the building before her.

Even though it was dark out, there was no way to hide the sheer size of the building. It was a mansion, painted white with deep red trim to go with the double doors that lay before her. It was two stories tall, with several windows along the front. If Andrea had to speculate, this place was big enough to house quite a few rooms.

The trees did their best to veil what looked to be a second part of the house to the right, set back a ways and just as high as the first part. It was an addition of sources and looked certainly much newer than the main part of the building.

The front yard was rather small and enclosed around the building with both a hedge and a knee high stone fence. That was lined with a black iron fencing that connected to a open gate that permitted anyone standing on the sidewalk to stroll up the simple path to the front doors. The small stretch of lawn was dotted with a few old maple trees, leafless in the cold grip of an incoming winter and creaking in the wind.

Andrea looked down at the address on her card again and looked back at the house.

“Wow.” She whispered in awe.

There was few lights on, but there was some on through a set of windows to the left of the door and a couple glowing within the depths of the mansion to the right. The whole second floor was dark.

Andrea shivered a little bit in the evening chill and decided standing outside and gawking was not a good idea. She stepped through the gate and walked slowly up towards the short steps towards the door.

Sitting on the face of one of the two doors was a shield. It was metal and well crafted. Across the front of it was a banner declaring in French “Le Guard du Mons Regius” and a scrawling of latin along the sides. Its face was an intricate maze of lines and shapes, forming symbols that were both strange and familiar to her. One was certainly the flowered graphic that the city itself choose as it’s universal image across the world.

Andrea looked around the door frame, finding it impossible to peek inside the two thin windows of glass since they were frosted over, but discovering a modern door bell instead of a knocker…which she thought would have been more appropriate for this building.

She wanted to bounce around a bit to drive away the chill, but her side ached to much to be jostled with such active movement. Sitting and standing have proven to be difficult enough with a recovering bullet wound.

There came the sounds of footsteps and then the telltale clicking of a lock being undone. The door not brandishing the shield swung open enough for a head to peek through and a man leaned out with a head of thick brown hair.

From the look on his face, he recognized her instantly.

“Miss Neilson.” He blinked. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

Andrea shrugged a little. “I didn’t see the point in sitting around my apartment after being shut in a hospital room for a week.” She explained.

The man opened the door some more, reveal the rest of himself. He was dressed in a white button down with black slacks and a blue tie. It was a little loose. “Your phone is ringing off the hook isn’t it.” He stated.

Andrea tried her best not to laugh in dismay. It hurt to laugh. She managed for force it down, bit it still came out as short breaths through her nose and her smile tightening. “I have so many messages that my answer machine isn’t working.” She admitted with defeat. “Everyone wants to know what being dead felt like and if I saw Heaven or what ever…I don’t want to talk about it.”

The man offered her a sympathic smile. “Come in.” He gestured into the warmth of an open foyer with cream colored walls and a wooden staircase leading straight up onto the second floor. There was a small railing exposing a section of the hall to the open foyer and a dimmed light hung overhead.

“Do you want me to talk your coat?” The man asked.

Andrea looked down from her study of the overhead light and back at the gentleman who met her at the door. “Oh. Here.” She reached to her belt and undid it, pulling the red wool free and unbuttoning it. Andrea gave it to his waiting hand and watched as he opened a two door closet and hang it up next to a familiar dark carhardt and a long tan colored trench coat.

She froze.

“You’re….you’re the other guy from the morgue.”

The man turned from hanging up the coat, a little surprised. “Oh. I didn’t think you’d remember that much.” He said sheepishly. He closed the closet door and turned to face her, putting his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”

Andrea relaxed a little. “And you are?”

“Elliot Barnhardt.” The man offered her his hand. “And before you ask, yes…I am the Barnhardt from the Arts and Lit section of the Gazette.”

The young woman blinked in surprise as she shook his hand. “A reporter?” She said nervously.

“Critic. It’s my day job.” Elliot corrected. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to mob you for an exclusive.” He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Wouldn’t need one anyway since I was there when it all happened.”

Andrea nodded slowly. “Speaking of, the paper didn’t mention that there had been two complete strangers in the freezer bringing me back to life.”

Elliot flashed her a knowing smile. “We’re the Guard. We have connections. One phone call to the provincial police and they will drop details like that before it hits the press.” He confessed. “Come on, I’ll take you to Jerome. Do you want anything to drink? Coffee? Water?”

The young woman shook her head. “No. I’m good.”

“Very well then.” Elliot turned to the door behind him, to the part of the house which Andrea had seen lights on, and opened a dark wood door.

He motioned in and Andrea crossed over the threshold into a room of utter chaos.