The Victorian mansion commanding the hillside looms ominously. Through window grills, the eerieness punctuates the scene. Curse the editor who ordered this chase. Foreboding envelops this place. The chill is tangible.

The nameplate: Langdon.

Undeniably, this is the correct location. No escaping. As I go to grab the doorknob it begins to turn. I grab it and feel the ease of its turning. I swing the door open and enter into a brightly lit foyer. With a bang, the door swings shut. I pivot. Slowly, I spin back around. The emptiness is filled by a man whose presence adds to the eeriness. I can’t move, trapped in an amber wash.

“May I help you?”

Fumbling, grasping at thoughts, I stand speechless. Words are trapped in my throat. Almost suffocating me.

Helpless.

A cold sweat rises on my prickling flesh.

“There is no cause for alarm. Perhaps, I can be of service.”

With a rasp, I choke out a broken sentence. “My magazine… sent me … for a feature.”

The gaze of this oddly gentle man sees through the professional mask I’ve held up to the world as protection for years. His eyes grip my innermost fears. I am a willing prisoner.

The rumours people whisper are true.

Calm envelopes my soul as I feel he already knows what I seek. “The answers to your questions lie within. Please, feel free to satisfy your curiosity.”

With pity, to discourage my embarrassment he continues, “Your questions contain their own set of answers. In due course, however, you, yourself, will discover what you
seek.”

As he leaves, see the almost imperceptible nod toward a set of double doors, half obscured at the end of one corridor.

“Is that it? Is that where I start?”

The silence is eloquent. I feel drawn once again, almost to those doors. Mindlessly, I approach. Expecting me, the doors glide open and I enter the first room.

Inside is overwhelming. The accumulation of artifacts. Each precisely place a brass plaque and this is only one of the rooms. Yes, all the rumours are true.

But, why?

The stranger materializes behind me.

“Why?”

“Why? Some have labeled it an obsession, others have deemed it an old man’s folly. Call it what you will, it exists simply because there’s a need for “The Langdon Collection.”