Cabinet of Perturbation
Justine
I walked up to the phonograph for hopefully the last time. I got the strange feeling that this wasn’t it. I also hoped that my guess was right; hopefully that was the last monster. I turned the phonograph to have Justine’s voice echoing throughout the corridor.
“Inspector Marot, are you still with us?” she asked, so he was a cop? I guess when he said men he meant his fellow officers, “I’m looking forward to see if you managed to save him or not. I know very little about him, but surely he had a family, don’t you think? Poor, poor, fatherless children. But he falls on his sword, his kind is not meant to come for people like me. Laws are made for cretins, the aristocracy doesn’t need to know right from wrong. We are always right.” I felt a tinge of guilt for a second about his kids, if he had any, but it went away as quickly as it came. I weirdly agreed with Justine again, aristocrats are always right. I walked up to the door and took a deep breath as I opened it to see a crypt. It was dark, the only lights were torches on the wall. It had the same vibe as Basile’s room. There were a few gravestones around with a couple opened ones. I jumped a little as I saw a dead body in one of them but it disappeared. I guess I am just seeing stuff? Wow, I must be going crazy. I walked along the left side of the room and quickly found a little opening. I walked over to see an open grave and gravestone. There was a pile of dirt to the right and looked at it. I instantly recognized the handwriting; I just couldn’t remember who it was from. I began to read the letter:
Herbert,
I have contacted the consulate and they will send you the permits you need for visiting Algeria. I wish you good luck on your search and that your finding will come at a lower price than mine.
I am loss with my studies. My daughter has become distraught and distant. I did very little to control her behavior, yet I believe the very notion of my observation has made her this way. My scientific indifference to our tests has not left her with an indifferent opinion. She finds my lack of reaction disappointing. She judges me, and most importantly herself, by the results of these tests.
The reason I have trouble finding any consistency within her character, is because she tries to different approaches to provoke me and her actions only become more and more disturbing. Yesterday I lost myself and scolded her, she was terrified and humiliated.
It saddens me greatly to bring my studies to a close without seeing it to the end, but I can no longer justify my research, I have to mend my relationship with my daughter…
That was all there was. I felt weird reading this letter, a bit of self pity that I could not understand. I leaned over and looked at the gravestone and tried to wipe off the dirty but my brain got fuzzy. All I could think about was ‘equaliztion of family. I blinked my eyes and backed away from the grave. I turned around and walked out of the small space and saw something across the room. I gaped as I absentmindedly walked toward it. It was the most beautiful statue I had ever seen. It was humongous and stone shaped into a woman. You couldn’t see her face which was covered. I walked over and touched it as voices entered my brain.
The little girl’s voice filled my mind, “what was mother like?”
“She was the most beautiful creature ever to grave this world” the familiar man’s voice responded.
“I can’t remember what she looked like, no matter how hard I try” the girl said sadly.
The man gave a small chuckle and said, “her beauty was blinding, Justine. We could never dare to chain such memory to our minds. It would be too much to bear.” I felt tears begin to form as I shut my eyes tightly trying to fight them back.
“Mom…” I said as I fell to my knees in front of the statue. I knew I should get up and continue but my muscles wouldn’t allow it. After a few minutes I stood up and walked away from the statue feeling as if I left something behind with it. The room finally came to an end with, obviously, another phonograph.
I walked up to it and turned it as Justine’ voice rang out of it, “well done, you have triumphed - conquered my cabinet. I wish I could tell you how you did, but alas this is a recording. You will have to figure it out all by yourself. Did anyone survive? The doctor? The priest? Or perhaps the police man. Who was allowed to live? Why? You should really reflect on these past events and consider what they meant to you, what you have learned about your true nature. “ My true nature? I forgot, that is what this was all about. To see if I was a good person. I obviously failed it… but at least I survived? “Father never knew me, he thought he did, but then he was frightened and nothing was ever the same again. I can still see him lying there on the floor, he looked so surprise.” she continued and then began a poem, “the star-shaped soapstone stained by his blood, fell to the floor with a sonorous thud. Blame me not, for I was but a child, with careful ambition I dared a smile. Rest in peace, papa.” This was beginning to seem more familiar, I heard this all before. Where did I hear this before? I heard a noise behind me; I hoped I was just hearing things. Just in case I stood up and walked toward the door to see more drawings of disturbing images around them. There was one that looked a lot like the two men, probably three but I never saw Malo. He probably looked like the others. I opened the door finally to see a corridor again. I walked in to see words on the walls written in blood. I walked down the hall as I read the messages.
'What will that perfect sphere bring?'
'We must hurry it’s not too late.'
'It will be the end of everything.'
'The tattered yellow king shall dethrone.'
'Stay Alive.'
'Suffer the trial.'
'Through the gates.'
'From beyond it comes.'
'Spin the wheels, crank the engine.'
'Climb the highest tower.'
'The skinless one is waking.'
My eyesight began to get blurry and I could not read the messages anymore. I just walked around in search for anything. Then I found it. A door. I opened it to see a small room with a hanging phonograph and body from the ceiling and machine parts in the wall adjacent from me. I took a few steps into the room and the door shut closed behind me. I ran back to it and tried to open it with no help.
“Dam it” I muttered as the voice filled the room once more.
“And so it comes to an end. Now that you have seen what you truly are, you are able to go on and face eternity without fear - without doubt” Justine said and then the walls began to move. No, this can’t be happening. I thought I won? I can’t die. I ran to the wall with the mechanics and tried to stick a rock in it. It just popped out. I am going to die. My eye sight began to go blurry again as I fell to the floor. Everything went black and came back. I could not help but smile and give a small laugh as memories filled my mind. I remembered why I was doing this. A test. A test for myself. The walls stopped and began to move back.
“This was the best one yet, so elaborate but…” I began but remembered everything that happened, “get up Justine.” I stood up as I heard banging on the door. I walked over and pushed the wood down reinsuring nobody could get in. There was mumbled yelling then screaming from the other side. Well I guess Malo found a new friend in the Doctor. I walked to the other door that was revealed after the walls went back to their original places. I walked toward the door and peered at the wall of machinery, “such intricate machinery. I can’t for the life of me understand why he built this” and then peered up at the dead body and with a small sigh said, “that’s me… isn’t it? All covered in chains.” There was banging on the door and I jumped a little and laughed, “they can’t hurt me anymore.” I continued up the stairs and remembered the guest that were coming, “can’t leave the guest waiting.” I shut the door behind me and looked at it curiously, “I really should keep this door locked.” I continued my way upstairs as a familiar voice greeted me.
“Mademoiselle Justine, are you down there? Is everything all right?” the girl’s voice called nervously.
“Oh course Clarice, I’m quite all right” I said as I reached the door and opened it, “is everything ready for tonight?”
“Yes, the goose is ready any minute now, the guest should be arriving within the hour” she replied, “I was curious, and I know it’s not my place but did I hear voice from downstairs?”
“I certainly hope not” I said as I walked into the kitchen to see her walking around not even looking at me.
“Oops, silly me” Clarice said.
“Yes, silly Clarice” I replied with a laugh as I began to walk away and take a nice bath but then I remembered something, “Clarice, I know it’s a busy day, but make sure to post this letter for me, ok?”
Clarice looked up at me ignoring the fact I was covered in dirt and still wet from the sewer water and replied, “certainly, Mademoiselle Justine. Urgent, is it?”
I gave a small laugh, “not really, it’s already years late. I just thought they should know… I’m still alive.”
“Inspector Marot, are you still with us?” she asked, so he was a cop? I guess when he said men he meant his fellow officers, “I’m looking forward to see if you managed to save him or not. I know very little about him, but surely he had a family, don’t you think? Poor, poor, fatherless children. But he falls on his sword, his kind is not meant to come for people like me. Laws are made for cretins, the aristocracy doesn’t need to know right from wrong. We are always right.” I felt a tinge of guilt for a second about his kids, if he had any, but it went away as quickly as it came. I weirdly agreed with Justine again, aristocrats are always right. I walked up to the door and took a deep breath as I opened it to see a crypt. It was dark, the only lights were torches on the wall. It had the same vibe as Basile’s room. There were a few gravestones around with a couple opened ones. I jumped a little as I saw a dead body in one of them but it disappeared. I guess I am just seeing stuff? Wow, I must be going crazy. I walked along the left side of the room and quickly found a little opening. I walked over to see an open grave and gravestone. There was a pile of dirt to the right and looked at it. I instantly recognized the handwriting; I just couldn’t remember who it was from. I began to read the letter:
Herbert,
I have contacted the consulate and they will send you the permits you need for visiting Algeria. I wish you good luck on your search and that your finding will come at a lower price than mine.
I am loss with my studies. My daughter has become distraught and distant. I did very little to control her behavior, yet I believe the very notion of my observation has made her this way. My scientific indifference to our tests has not left her with an indifferent opinion. She finds my lack of reaction disappointing. She judges me, and most importantly herself, by the results of these tests.
The reason I have trouble finding any consistency within her character, is because she tries to different approaches to provoke me and her actions only become more and more disturbing. Yesterday I lost myself and scolded her, she was terrified and humiliated.
It saddens me greatly to bring my studies to a close without seeing it to the end, but I can no longer justify my research, I have to mend my relationship with my daughter…
That was all there was. I felt weird reading this letter, a bit of self pity that I could not understand. I leaned over and looked at the gravestone and tried to wipe off the dirty but my brain got fuzzy. All I could think about was ‘equaliztion of family. I blinked my eyes and backed away from the grave. I turned around and walked out of the small space and saw something across the room. I gaped as I absentmindedly walked toward it. It was the most beautiful statue I had ever seen. It was humongous and stone shaped into a woman. You couldn’t see her face which was covered. I walked over and touched it as voices entered my brain.
The little girl’s voice filled my mind, “what was mother like?”
“She was the most beautiful creature ever to grave this world” the familiar man’s voice responded.
“I can’t remember what she looked like, no matter how hard I try” the girl said sadly.
The man gave a small chuckle and said, “her beauty was blinding, Justine. We could never dare to chain such memory to our minds. It would be too much to bear.” I felt tears begin to form as I shut my eyes tightly trying to fight them back.
“Mom…” I said as I fell to my knees in front of the statue. I knew I should get up and continue but my muscles wouldn’t allow it. After a few minutes I stood up and walked away from the statue feeling as if I left something behind with it. The room finally came to an end with, obviously, another phonograph.
I walked up to it and turned it as Justine’ voice rang out of it, “well done, you have triumphed - conquered my cabinet. I wish I could tell you how you did, but alas this is a recording. You will have to figure it out all by yourself. Did anyone survive? The doctor? The priest? Or perhaps the police man. Who was allowed to live? Why? You should really reflect on these past events and consider what they meant to you, what you have learned about your true nature. “ My true nature? I forgot, that is what this was all about. To see if I was a good person. I obviously failed it… but at least I survived? “Father never knew me, he thought he did, but then he was frightened and nothing was ever the same again. I can still see him lying there on the floor, he looked so surprise.” she continued and then began a poem, “the star-shaped soapstone stained by his blood, fell to the floor with a sonorous thud. Blame me not, for I was but a child, with careful ambition I dared a smile. Rest in peace, papa.” This was beginning to seem more familiar, I heard this all before. Where did I hear this before? I heard a noise behind me; I hoped I was just hearing things. Just in case I stood up and walked toward the door to see more drawings of disturbing images around them. There was one that looked a lot like the two men, probably three but I never saw Malo. He probably looked like the others. I opened the door finally to see a corridor again. I walked in to see words on the walls written in blood. I walked down the hall as I read the messages.
'What will that perfect sphere bring?'
'We must hurry it’s not too late.'
'It will be the end of everything.'
'The tattered yellow king shall dethrone.'
'Stay Alive.'
'Suffer the trial.'
'Through the gates.'
'From beyond it comes.'
'Spin the wheels, crank the engine.'
'Climb the highest tower.'
'The skinless one is waking.'
My eyesight began to get blurry and I could not read the messages anymore. I just walked around in search for anything. Then I found it. A door. I opened it to see a small room with a hanging phonograph and body from the ceiling and machine parts in the wall adjacent from me. I took a few steps into the room and the door shut closed behind me. I ran back to it and tried to open it with no help.
“Dam it” I muttered as the voice filled the room once more.
“And so it comes to an end. Now that you have seen what you truly are, you are able to go on and face eternity without fear - without doubt” Justine said and then the walls began to move. No, this can’t be happening. I thought I won? I can’t die. I ran to the wall with the mechanics and tried to stick a rock in it. It just popped out. I am going to die. My eye sight began to go blurry again as I fell to the floor. Everything went black and came back. I could not help but smile and give a small laugh as memories filled my mind. I remembered why I was doing this. A test. A test for myself. The walls stopped and began to move back.
“This was the best one yet, so elaborate but…” I began but remembered everything that happened, “get up Justine.” I stood up as I heard banging on the door. I walked over and pushed the wood down reinsuring nobody could get in. There was mumbled yelling then screaming from the other side. Well I guess Malo found a new friend in the Doctor. I walked to the other door that was revealed after the walls went back to their original places. I walked toward the door and peered at the wall of machinery, “such intricate machinery. I can’t for the life of me understand why he built this” and then peered up at the dead body and with a small sigh said, “that’s me… isn’t it? All covered in chains.” There was banging on the door and I jumped a little and laughed, “they can’t hurt me anymore.” I continued up the stairs and remembered the guest that were coming, “can’t leave the guest waiting.” I shut the door behind me and looked at it curiously, “I really should keep this door locked.” I continued my way upstairs as a familiar voice greeted me.
“Mademoiselle Justine, are you down there? Is everything all right?” the girl’s voice called nervously.
“Oh course Clarice, I’m quite all right” I said as I reached the door and opened it, “is everything ready for tonight?”
“Yes, the goose is ready any minute now, the guest should be arriving within the hour” she replied, “I was curious, and I know it’s not my place but did I hear voice from downstairs?”
“I certainly hope not” I said as I walked into the kitchen to see her walking around not even looking at me.
“Oops, silly me” Clarice said.
“Yes, silly Clarice” I replied with a laugh as I began to walk away and take a nice bath but then I remembered something, “Clarice, I know it’s a busy day, but make sure to post this letter for me, ok?”
Clarice looked up at me ignoring the fact I was covered in dirt and still wet from the sewer water and replied, “certainly, Mademoiselle Justine. Urgent, is it?”
I gave a small laugh, “not really, it’s already years late. I just thought they should know… I’m still alive.”