Chapter Ninety-Five
I was getting dumber and emotional by the second. How could I demand the Astors to show us each room of their mansion to prove they weren’t keeping the devil there? All eyes were on me. They were giving me mixed reactions. My siblings' eyes widened at my stupidity, and our hosts were outraged.
The silent display of extreme reactions brought sweat to my underarms and palms. Since I couldn’t take back my words, I had to think of something to diffuse the situation.
“Uh, that’s what Mom would have said if she were here,” I began with a shaky voice. “She could be very wrong. Honestly, I don’t have any faith in her wild theories. Why would a modern-day rich couple have a Satan’s temple in their magnificent mansion? Mom is slipping into madness after Dad’s death.”
It hurt to question my mother’s sanity in front of the people who had caused her endless pain. Prey can’t courageously enter a lion’s cage and expect not to get eaten without an escape plan. Mom would understand my reasons for doing that.
Aunt Jane’s intense expression eased into a soft smile. “To remove your doubts and make you all feel safer around us, I will gladly give you a tour of each room of this mansion,” she said, shocking me to my very core. “I only have one condition before we begin the tour. You must drink tea with us. It’s considered ill-fortune in Voocrod for the hosts not to have their guests eat or drink something within the first hour of their visit.”
It was an innocent request. They wanted us to have a sweet cup of tea before letting us invade the privacy of their home. What a brilliant plan to poison or drug us! That middle-aged couple were cold-blooded murderers, not hospitable angels. We weren’t fools to fall for their sick plan.
“Sure,” said Derrick, being the trusting idiot he was. All it took was for them to call witchcraft nonsense and only real for ignorant people, and my brother gave them his entire trust.
“Delightful,” said Mr. Astor with a wide grin. I swear there was a hint of evil and mockery somewhere there. They had become so good at hiding their sins behind the facade of friendliness.
A maid was called into the room to pour us tea. She was a frail young woman with constant worry on her face. She dedicated a long time to carefully pouring three cups of tea and mixing in sugar until it was right for us.
In the meantime, I planned to notify Becky about the current events and tell her to call the police if she didn't hear from me in less than ten minutes. Unfortunately, once I pulled out my phone, I found no signal.
The whole situation was strange since there were signals outside their mansion. Could the Astors have something to do with it? Nothing was impossible for someone who had command over ancient demonic forces.
“Please enjoy a steaming cup of tea,” said Jane.
Each of us had a cup in front, ready to be sipped. The maid didn’t do anything fishy to our tea, but unseen forces could do the deed without being caught by our human eyes. Also, as I didn’t think to peek in the teacups, there could have been poison there before our arrival.
There were countless possibilities, and only a spirit could know the truth. I needed Desmond, but my mind was too stubborn to give up so soon.
I took the cup and drank a considerable amount, burning my tongue and the roof of my mouth, but it was worth it. My hasty action received awkward looks from the others.
“I like my tea burning hot. If the temperature comes down even a little, I can’t push it down my system,” I said, trying to hide the fire-like pain in my mouth.
“The tea is not poisoned if that’s what you were trying to confirm,” said Mr. Astor, putting me in a difficult position. “Though I admire your brave act of sacrificing your life to save your siblings, in case it was real.”
“No. You’re misconstruing my action,” I said, bent on selling my lie. “Tell them how I like my tea.” I turned to my siblings for help.
They nodded in agreement, but their confidence was worse than mine.
“It’s alright. You can think of us satanic killers until we prove our innocence,” began Mr. Astor. Any guilt in his heart must have died to repeat such words, or he could be entirely innocent. His extreme confidence had begun to put doubts in my head. “Let me give you some honest advice, child. Research on poisons and drugs because you seem unaware of slow poisons.”
Slow poison. Could it be that? I peeked inside my cup in horror when I heard roaring laughter. Mr. and Mrs. Astor were sadistically amused at my fear of them. Water was coming out of Benedict’s eyes as he laughed harder than his wife.
None of it was amusing to us. They would have their asses in jail if any of us died in their mansion. They must be psychopaths to enjoy other’s misery. You don’t need a good reason to kill when you’re sick in the brain.
“I need to use the restroom,” I said, wanting to catch a break from their insufferable chuckling.
Jane Astor gave me simple instructions to the toilet, and I finally caught a break from their mocking laughter and twisted jokes.
I splashed some water on my face in the toilet, and upon coming outside, I found the same maid that had served us tea in the corridor staring at me with fearful eyes.
“Hey. Are you alright?” I politely inquired.
“Yes,” she said, nodding her head too many times with discomfort written all over her face.
“Can you answer some questions about the Astors, like how they treat you? Or are they involved in satanic activities?” I asked, not missing the opportunity to have a word with their employee privately.
“No!” she exclaimed and ran away.
“Wait!” I yelled, chasing after her.
There must be something the Astors were concealing, causing their maid to react dramatically when I asked about them. I had to catch her and make her talk about whatever she knew.