The Janitor's Requiem

The Revelation

The streets were slippery and glittering in the dim light of the lamps, and the rain had ceased. Thomas strolled with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets and his head a whirlpool of conflicting feelings. He was eager to leave. He wanted his feet to take him far from his mistakes, but he had no clear destination. The rawness in his chest was more intense than the dull aching in his legs.

The calm night was broken by the sound of an approaching motor. A sleek line of black cars pulled to a halt in front of Thomas, who hardly looked up. The door of the lead automobile opened, and an old lady, despite her advanced age, came out with a calm and straight stance. Her silver hair was put back into a tidy bun, and she wore a fitted coat that exuded money and power.

Her voice was stern but strangely warm as she continued, "Thomas Ward."

He paused and scowled at her. "Do I know you?"

With a hint of humor in her piercing gray eyes, the lady gave a little grin. “Young master, not yet. However, I have known you since birth.

Thomas shook his head and laughed dryly. "Young master? You have the wrong man, lady. I am not the master of anybody. His steps were quick as he turned to go.

"Hold on." He stopped in his tracks as he heard the power in her voice. "You must accompany me. It's time you discovered the truth and open your eyes to the world you live in now to many things, young master.

His face was marked with skepticism as he looked back at her. "What is the truth?"

"Who you are," she stated plainly.

Another hollow chuckle escaped Thomas's lips. "Who am I? Thank you; I believe I know who I am.

“Do you?” she shot back, her eyes fixed on his. "At least make me laugh. Let's have a conversation in a peaceful place. You are free to leave without asking any questions if nothing I say piques your curiosity.

He paused at the earnestness in her words. There was something about her demeanor and presence that called for notice. Curiosity flickered in the back of his thoughts as he paused.

"All right," he responded in a reluctant tone. "But hurry up."

The lady pointed to the open vehicle door and nodded. The inside was as opulent as he had anticipated as he got into the backseat. The room smelt like leather and something somewhat flowery. As the convoy started to move, the lady sat down opposite him, her hands neatly resting on her lap.

Aside from the engine's hum, the journey was quiet. Thomas gazed out the window, taking in the hazy city lights. Part of him was certain that this was some kind of complex joke, while the other part was strangely intrigued by the idea that she may not be lying.

Thomas's breath caught when they finally got there. With its expansive grounds surrounded by tall walls and elaborate gates, the estate in front of him resembled a fortress. Although he had previously seen images of this location in periodicals and on TV, he never thought he would ever get close to it.

"This is." Unable to complete the statement, he drifted off.

The lady added, "The Blackthorne family's estate," as she got out of the vehicle.

With his pulse racing, Thomas trailed after, admiring the property's splendor. With its windows gently shining against the darkness, the mansion's imposing structure towered above him.

The smell of freshly polished wood and subtle spices blended with the warm, pleasant air within. Employees walked by him with accuracy, their eyes polite yet interested.

The lady led him through the lavish corridors and said, "You are a guest here." "You don't have to feel uncomfortable."

"It's too late for that," Thomas whispered to himself.

They walked into a sitting area with bookcases that appeared to go on forever and walls covered in elaborate tapestries. Warm light filled the room as a fire blazed in the hearth.

The lady indicated a side door and said, "Freshen up." "After dinner is ready, we'll have a conversation."

Thomas firmly shook his head and stated, "No." "Dinner is not necessary. I need answers. Right now.

After examining him for a while, the lady nodded. Excellent. Come with me.

They descended a spiral staircase, and she led him along a tiny corridor, the shiny flooring turning to stone. As the temperature dropped, flames set into iron sconces and illuminated the walls.

They came to a thick wooden door at the bottom. When the lady pushed it open, a seemingly unaltered room was revealed. The room was packed with shelves with antiquated books and artefacts, and in the middle was a table piled high with records and old photos.

"Welcome to the center of your family's history," she stated in a respectful tone.

Thomas entered, his eyes captivated by the pictures. He saw faces staring back at him, some familiar, some unfamiliar, all caught in sad and triumphant moments.

The lady took a picture and gave it to him, saying, "This is your bloodline."

Thomas's gut twisted as he inspected it. Even down to the strong jawline and piercing eyes, the guy in the photo looked just like him.

His voice was hardly audible above a whisper as he inquired, "Who is this?"

The lady referred to him as her grandpa. "One of the most significant men in the history of this world."

Thomas shook his head, his mind hazy with incredulity. "It's not possible. My granddad worked at a manufacturing company. I had nothing growing up.

The woman's face became softer. "Because that's how they wanted it." Thomas, your parents kept you hidden to keep you safe from anyone who could have taken advantage of your history. However, it's time for you to step in now.

In a hollow voice, he repeated, "My place?"

She took a step closer and stated, "As the heir to the Blackthorne legacy." "And as the legitimate owner of all that you see here."

Thomas's thoughts were racing as he gazed at her. He wanted to laugh, to think she was making all of this up. But it was difficult because of the certainty in her eyes and the weight in her voice.

The sound of rushing footsteps reverberated from the corridor before he could reply. The lady stiffened, looking quickly at the door.

With an anxious tone, she said, "We're out of time."

A black-clad man entered the room as the door sprang open. Although a cowl covered their faces, it was clear that they were holding a weapon.

“Get down!” As the first shot echoed, the lady grabbed Thomas and pulled him behind a shelf.