Elm Brook Manor

The Siren's Call

And that is when Coby noticed her, sitting all by herself on the cold marble staircase. A fourth apparition, not as enchanting as her counterparts, but still intriguing, somewhat sinister. The soft glow of the chandeliers illuminated her face, casting a warm, ethereal glow upon her delicate features.

With her dark hair cascading down her shoulders, she wore plain clothes that seemed to blend into the background, as if she belonged to a different time. The stark contrast between her companions’ pristine footwear and her worn, tattered shoes was hard to ignore. Coby couldn’t help but feel that she belonged to a different social class, which explained her solitude.

Enchanted, he slowly rose from his chair, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight, and approached her cautiously, his steps measured and deliberate. The air carried a faint scent of old books and forgotten memories. Her fingers moved with grace, tracing intricate patterns on the stairs that were covered in a fine layer of dust. Her lips parted slightly, and a gentle hum resonated from her throat, like a distant echo from a forgotten realm. The melody, a hauntingly familiar Celtic tune, weaved its way through the air, whispering tales of ancient lore and timeless love.

Vibrations from the melody created a symphony of emotions rippling through the silent hallway. The sound of the weary maintenance workers’ labours blended into the background, drowned out by the peacefulness of the surroundings. The melody acted as a magnet, drawing Coby closer, and he absentmindedly reached out, his fingers hovering just below her face. As if trying to touch the ephemeral beauty of the moment.

But as if startled by his presence, the harmonious serenade abruptly ceased. With a gasp, she rushed up the stairs, her footsteps so quiet they could be mistaken for a whisper. With a quick, mysterious gaze over her shoulder, she receded into the veil of shadows, disappearing like a wisp of fog before the brilliance of the rising sun.

Coby christened her ‘the siren,’ mesmerised by her ethereal voice that danced through the air like a delicate melody. Hurrying back to his office, he sought solace in his plush leather chair, pouring and swiftly downing a neat whisky to calm his racing thoughts. The room exuded a sense of comfort, with the scent of aged wood mingling with the subtle aroma of leather. With the memory of their encounter still vivid in his mind, he painstakingly captured every detail, from the way she looked to the heavenly timbre of her voice.

With each keystroke, the temperature in the room seemed to drop, sending a chilling sensation down his back. A hauntingly alluring fragrance, reminiscent of vintage perfume, wafted through the room. The intoxicating blend of pepper, lotus flowers, and a hint of saffron hinted at the presence of the enigmatic dark angel. Ignoring the urge to glance behind him, he succumbed to her magnetic pull, her presence hanging over him like an enchanting force. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, poised to continue expanding on the allure of ‘the siren’s call,’ the enchanting serenade still echoing in his memory.

However, a surge of inspiration crashed over him like a powerful tidal wave. Saving the document as ‘the siren,’ he opened a new blank page, selecting a large font size. The word ‘Hello’ sprawled across the page, its size nearly consuming the entire length. He waited, his gaze fixated on the blinking cursor, hoping for a response. His fingers rested on the keys, and he typed out the words ‘My name is Coby McTavish.’ The intoxicating fragrance of her perfume grew stronger, filling the air around him, amplifying her presence. Yet, the cursor continued its relentless blinking, urging him into stillness. ‘What is your name?’ he typed, leaning back in anticipation. Time stretched on, but no response came. Though her scent lingered in the air, and he knew she was there, nothing happened.

He rose from his worn leather chair, the creaking sound echoing through the dimly lit room. With deliberate movements, he poured a generous amount of amber liquid into a crystal glass, the scent of aged whisky filling the air. His eyes were fixed on the frosted window, where the unmistakable silhouette of a red-headed figure caught his attention, peering through the tangled thicket. A sly smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he shuffled back into the comforting embrace of his well-worn chair.

Lost in thought, he absentmindedly stared at the flickering screen, his fingers tightly gripping the glass. Just as he took a long, throat-burning sip, Coby’s throat convulsed, causing a wet cough to erupt. The sound filled with the struggle to breathe. Startled, he glanced down at the screen, where garbled letters formed an undeniable word beneath his name. Tilting his head from side to side, he tried to decipher the ethereal message: ‘Sine.’ Recognition sparked in his eyes, assuming she had observed him typing earlier. With a simple response, he typed, ‘Siren?’ because he believed she enjoyed the sound of it. But nothing happened.

Disappointment settled over him like a heavy cloud, causing his brow to furrow in confusion. Starting anew, he greeted her with a simple ‘hello’ and inquired about her name. This time, the dark angel’s response came swiftly, the word ‘Sine’ appearing on the screen. An urge to shout at the screen welled up within him, but he restrained himself, knowing better. Coby’s gaze intensified, fixated on the monotonous blinking cursor as he recalled every detail he had learned about these apparitions. Their numbers, hairstyles, shoes, and clothing.

Suddenly, a revelation struck him like a bolt of lightning from the heavens. He swiftly typed the word ‘Sine’ into the search engine, discovering its mathematical function. Correcting himself, he added ‘Sine, Gaelic name meaning,’ into the search bar. And there it was, right in front of him. Sine, Gaelic for Jane. Excitement coursed through his trembling fingers as he typed, ‘Hello Jane, I am so very happy to meet you.’

In a fleeting moment, Jane, the enigmatic dark angel, materialised before him, her radiant smile illuminating the room, before vanishing like a wisp of smoke.

With a triumphant smile, Coby reached into the top drawer and pulled out his sleek silver Dictaphone, its cool metallic surface glinting under the soft glow of the desk lamp. With his finger on the record button, he felt a rush of anticipation, causing his arms to break out in goosebumps. The room filled with the sound of his voice, capturing the heartfelt message. “Contact made,” he announced, excitement lacing his words. He meticulously recorded the sights, sounds, and smells around him, as well as his strategic plans to tame the ethereal trinity.