Tranquil Grove Manor

You awake with a start, chest heaving while your mind is filled with images of the dream you just found yourself in: a full moon illuminating the crisp winter night, your foot stuck in the railways, a train approaching rapidly, horn blasting to announce the imminent collision. It felt so real, so familiar. How you are able to remember every single detail makes you uneasy. Your breathing slows down as your eyes dart across the room, realizing that there is no moonlight, no horn signaling your untimely demise. Instead, there are logs crackling away in the fireplace, casting a warm light over the emerald green walls and closed curtains. You are safe in your bed at Tranquil Grove Manor. You inhale deeply through your nose and extend your hand across the luxurios sheets to find comfort in your husband. He is not there. Your exhale becomes a sigh as you look over to where your husband should be, finding an envelope in his place. You put on a pair of slippers, take out the note within and bring it over to the fireplace to be able to [[read the message.]]

You head over to your mahogany wardrobe, grab a blood red lined silk robe, wrap it around your nightgown and place the note in one of the pockets. You exit your bedchamber and enter the lounge area where you usually paint or entertain guests with your husband. The curtains are closed in this room as well and there is no crackling fire to light up your path, but you know this place like the back of your hand and you weave your way through, enjoying the smell of oil paint as you approach the double doors. [[→]]

"Just a moment" you reply with a smirk, enthusiastically drawing the curtains to survey the snow covered grounds. Your eyes widen as you view the scene in front of you. Instead of snow, you see green grass and neatly raked gravel. The sun is visible to the northeast and the lavender bushes outside the window are in full bloom, a phenomenon that only occurs in the summer. "Mez..." you hear right behind you as a hand softly squeezes your shoulder, "What's wrong? You've been standing here paralyzed for more than a minute." [["How... The sun is shining. And there is no snow. Why is there no snow?"]]

You nod and let your husband take your hand and lead you to the table where he pulls out a chair for you. You sit down and pretend to dry your eyes with a napkin as your husband takes a seat across from you. He looks worried and takes a deep breath before speaking: "You were in an accident." [[Say nothing.]]

Your husband looks at you directly. "It's been about six months." [[Remain silent.]]

Your husband's eyes quickly dart to yours and then away again. He shakes his head and looks solemn. "We have had this conversation many times before, but you won't remember that. I thought it would get easier over time, but it hasn't. It... pains me to see you traumatized over and over." [[Remain silent.]]

Your husband removes his glasses and puts his face in his hands before muttering: "I know it's a lot to take in, and I didn't plan for this to happen this morning. Every day, I have to figure out whether or not you remember your accident." He lowers his hands and looks at you. "That is why we keep the curtains closed, as to not spook you." You nod but a question is gnawing inside you: [[Was he being truthful while covering his face?]]

"I am splendid, my lady. Did you sleep well?" [["As a matter of fact, I did not, but I would rather not speak of it."]] [["I... I had a nightmare."]] [["Actually, I had a most frightening dream."]]

"Lord Sergei is indeed in the dining room. He has prepared a breakfast all by himself." [["How lovely! It has been a while since he cooked for me."]] [["You mean Yrsa let him into the kitchen?"]] [["Thank you for the warning, Horace."]]

You turn away from the butler and the ghosts of your husband's family and descend the marble staircase leading to the foyer. You tilt your head as you notice that the curtains are closed in the foyer as well. Perhaps Horace is running late with his housekeeping duties? The lamps are lit though, did he not draw the curtains at the same time? Odd. Surely the snow on this winter morning would be a lovely view. You cross the checkered floors and enter the dining room. Candles flicker over the feast on the table: eggs, cheese, jam, bread, ham and tea. It smells and looks lovely, but you are slighlty annoyed by encountering closed curtains once again. It did not bother you in your private chambers, but in the more open areas? Horace should have prepared that. You head over to the windows, reach for the curtains and hear a cheery: "Good morning!" Your husband is standing by the table, with his long blond hair in a high ponytail and a wide smile on his face. "Please", he gestures towards the table, "come sit" You decide to [[open the curtains first.]]

"Oh but lady Meztusha, your well-being is in my best interest. Please, do tell." [["You overstep your place, Horace."]] [["I was hit by a train and died. Please do not press further."]] [["I do not think it is any of your business."]]

"Would you care to share? To ease your burden." [["I... Nevermind. It was just a dream."]] [["I would prefer not to, if you don't mind."]] [["I... I was hit by a train and... died I believe. It is chilling to think about."]]

"Oh? Pray do tell." [["I experienced my own death."]] [["My foot was stuck and I could not get it loose before I was hit by a train."]] [["I was hit by a train outside in the snow. It felt very real."]]

"Apologies my lady, I meant no harm." You give the butler a curt nod. [["Good day, Horace."]]

"That sounds awful my lady! I apologize for prodding and causing any stress." You smile weakly at the butler. [["Good day, Horace."]]

"I apologize my lady, I will question you no further." You nod approvingly at the butler. [["Good day, Horace."]]

"And for that I am thankful. I hope you are able to forget about it shortly. Now, I must return to my duties. Good day, my lady." [["Good day, Horace."]]

"I will push it no further then. Now, I have business to attend to elsewhere. Wishing you a good day, my lady." You flash a tired smile at the butler. [["Good day, Horace."]]

"How awful! Let's not speak of it further. I wish you will find the day more cheerful than the night. I need to attend to my duties now, but do come find me if you need anything. Good day, my lady." You nod, looking at the ground. [["Good day, Horace."]]

"I pray that was no omen, my lady", Horace replies with a furrowed brow. "Now, I have a busy schedule to adhere to. I hope your day will be more pleasant." You let out a small chuckle. [["Good day, Horace."]]

"How macabre. I simply dreamt that I had overslept and missed my duties. Speaking of, I must return to them now. Good day, my lady." You smile at the butler. [["Good day, Horace."]]

"Fortunately, it was not real. Losing you would be devastating for all of us. Now, if you don't mind, I have busy schedule today. I wish you a pleasant day, my lady." [["Good day, Horace."]]

"I understand your excitement", Horace chuckles, "Is there anything else I can assist you with before you join Lord Sergei?" [["Actually, I had a most frightening dream."]] [["No, that will be all."]] [["No Horace, thank you. I will make sure to sneak you a treat from breakfast."]]

"I'm sure he bribed her somehow, she is quite territorial our beloved cook. Anything else before you depart?" [["Actually, I had a most frightening dream."]] [["No, that will be all."]] [["No Horace, thank you. I will make sure to sneak you a treat from breakfast."]]

The butler lets out a hearty laugh. "You do warm up this winter morning with your sense of humor. Can I assist you with anything else before you sadly must eat Lord Sergei's atrocious cooking?" [["Actually, I had a most frightening dream."]] [["No Horace, thank you. I will make sure to sneak you a treat from breakfast."]] [["No, that will be all."]]

"You worry me, my lady. Why frightened?" [["I had a bad dream."]] [["A nightmare, I would rather not go into details."]] [[(Lie) "I... I don't remember the details."]]

The butler gives a quick bow. "Then I shall return to my duties. Good day, my lady." [["Good day, Horace."]]

"I look forward to it. Good day, my lady." [["Good day, Horace."]]

"My love, Join me in the dining room to break fast together. -S" You smile to yourself and decide to [[go join your husband.]]

"What happened?" [["I experienced my own death."]] [["My foot was stuck and I could not get it loose before I was hit by a train."]] [["I was hit by a train outside in the snow. It felt very real."]]

Horace eyes you suspiciously. "Are you sure my lady?" [["You overstep your place, Horace."]] [["I was hit by a train and died. Please do not press further."]] [["I do not think it is any of your business."]]

Out in the hallway, the butler Horace is lighting kerosene lamps that are strategically placed to highlight the portraits of the Polinas family along the wall on your left. They all resemble your husband: the same high cheekbones, blond hair and vision impaired hazel eyes that require round spectacles. The aging butler turns toward you, exposing a wrinkled face and kind, dark eyes. All traces of ginger hues have left his water combed, neat haircut. "Lady Meztusha", he smiles, "How are you this December morning?" [["Very well, thank you. How about yourself?"]] [["I am well now, but I awoke most frightened."]] [["I am well, thank you. Is my husband in the dining room?"]]

You awake with a start, chest heaving while your mind is filled with images of the dream you just found yourself in: a full moon illuminating the crisp winter night and candles flickering over a feast, your foot stuck in the railways with your husband gripping you firmly, a train approaching rapidly, horn blasting to announce the imminent collision as your husband jabs you with a needle. Your breathing slows down as your eyes dart across the room, realizing that you are safe in your bed at Tranquil Grove Manor. You lay down again and close your eyes. "I had a dream about you" you tell your husband as you open your eyes and turn towards him. He is not there. Instead, you find an envelope is his place. Just like the dream you just had. You feel your heart race as you sit up swiftly. You put on slippers and grab the envelope with shaking hands, bringing it over to the fireplace to [[read the note within.]]

"My love, Join me in the dining room to break fast together. -S" You feel faint and sit down in one of the armchairs by the fireplace to give yourself a few moments. Are you still dreaming? How do you know what is real and what is not? You decide to take action by opening the curtains in your bedroom. You cautiously walk over to the window, the note still gripped in your hand. You silently count to three and then throw open the curtains. You see the sun to the northeast, casting a soft summer glow over the grass, gravel and lavender bushes. How is this possible? As far as you're concerned, it should be late December. You glance down at the note in your hand and realize that you must speak with your husband. You don the red silk robe and go to place the note in one of the pockets, only to find that the pocket is already occupied by another note. You raise one eyebrow and bring this new piece of paper to the fireplace to read: "My love, Join me in the dining room to break fast together. -S" [[?!]]

Considering the possibility that your dream might have been real makes you feel faint once again and you lean against the fireplace to compose yourself. Why would your husband subdue you like that? You know that you must speak with him but you don't know how to approach the subject. You place the identical notes in your pocket and exit your bed chamber, slowingly traversing the darkness of the lounge area. Out in the hallway, you encounter Horace lighting the kerosene lamps. The butler turns towards you: "Lady Meztusha", he smiles, "How are you this December morning?" Why does he specify December? You try to keep your composure, acting as if nothing is wrong while not mentioning your dreams. [["I am well, thank you. How about yourself?"]] [["I am well, Horace. Is my husband waiting in the dining room?"]]

"I am splendid, my lady. Did you sleep well?" "I slept very well, and then I awoke to a lovely message from my husband who I believe is waiting for me. Good day, Horace." "Good day, my lady." You turn away from Horace and descend the staircase, [[ready to speak with your husband.]]

"Lord Sergei is indeed in the dining room. He has prepared a breakfast all by himself." "How lovely. Then I shall join him at once. Good day, Horace." "Good day, my lady." You turn away from Horace and descend the staircase, [[ready to speak with your husband.]]

You cross the foyer, enter the dining room and once again see a feast prepared on the table, flickering candles waving to greet you once more. You stand surveying the table longer this time, long enough to see your husband come through the kitchen doors on your left. He sees you and smiles. "Good morning, my dear. Let me seat you", he says while making his way to the table. "Just a moment, let me open the curtains first" you reply as you turn to the right to approach the windows. "Mez, wait!" you hear behind you, but you ignore him and [[throw the curtains wide open.]]

You stare out the windows, pretending to be stunned. A few moments later you feel your husband's hand on your shoulder. "Mez... "What's wrong? You've been standing here paralyzed for more than a minute." "Why is it summer outside?!" "Please, come sit down. I will explain." [["Okay."]]

"How long does my memory last?" you ask him. "No more than a day" he replies while gazing out the window. Another lie. You decide to... [[Confront him.]] [[Investigate the basement.]]

"Then why do I remember you stabbing me with a needle?" Your husband's eyes widen. "What... what did you say?" he stutters. "I remember you jabbing a needle into my arm. And also..." You bring out the two identical notes and place them on the table, "Explain this." Your husband surveys the pieces of paper. He looks you in the eyes. "I need to pretend that every morning is the same as to not spook you." "How does subduing me with a syringue classify as 'not spooking me'?" "It... You were being hysterical, you were at risk for a rapid decline of health" your husband answers while averting his gaze. [[A lie.]]

"I think I need some time alone. I will bring breakfast up to our chambers. Let us speak more later." "Of course my love, take your time." The nearest path to the basement is through the kitchen doors your husband exited from. You decide to [[ask your husband to leave while you "gather breakfast".]]

Your mouth feels dry as you answer your husband. Your breaths become shorter and the time between them decreases as tears start forming in your eyes. Your husband turns you around and steadily places his hands on your shoulders: "Please, come sit down. I will explain." [["Why is there no snow?!"]] [["NO! Why did Horace specifically ask how I was this DECEMBER morning?"]]

"Please, Mez, calm down." [["Answer my damn questions, then I might consider calming down."]]

Your husband sighs deeply. "Mez, it is imperative that you are calm and collected before I explain anything." "Don't patronize me, I will NOT calm down." Your husband hangs his head. "Then I am very sorry for this." In the corner of your eye you see your husband swiftly pull up your sleeves and then you feel a sharp pain. You look down to your left and see your husband gripping a syringe that has been injected into your arm. The last thing you see before your vision fades is tears streaming down your husband's face. [[And then...]]

"If you'll just calm down, I will explain everything." [["Answer my damn questions, then I might consider calming down."]]

He falls silent and your thoughts flash back to your dream of the train, giving you an instant headache which is not helped by the ticking of the nearby grandfather clock. You motion for him to continue. He takes another deep breath: "It was Christmas Eve and we were visting your family. You and your sister had been drinking and decided to have a snowball fight in the fields close to the train tracks. Your sister ran to the other side of the tracks and you followed, but you got stuck in the railway. I managed to pull you loose but we both tumbled down the hill and you hit your head. You had a bad concussion and... it has affected your memory." He smiles weakly and and doesn't look you in the eyes. You know what that means: He is lying. [["There is something you're not telling me, Sergei."]] [["How long has it been?"]] [[Remain silent.]]

"You're LYING" you yell as you stand up, knocking over your chair. You stare at your husband and he doesn't meet your eyes, none of you say anything. For a few moments only the grandfather clock can be heard, then, you hear rapidly approaching footsteps coming from the foyer. Your husband lifts his gaze and you turn around too [[see who's coming.]]

You and your husband met as young adults. He was Sergei Polinas: an assistant scientist. You were Meztusha Orlova: an up and coming socialite famed for your artistic talents and brilliant mind, always outwitting the men in discussions of politics or inventions. That was how you caught your husband's eye: he found it fascinating and entertaining how you could explain in great detail to a renowned engineer how he was wrong about the development of the new locomotives. You and your future husband spent the rest of the evening only talking to each other, and a few too many glasses of wine in he confessed that yes, he found you incredibly witty and entertaining, but he had also noticed how well your red dress complimented your tanned skin and dark eyes and hair. Ten years later, it has been a happy marriage. You and your husband have assisted each other in numerous inventions in the basement of his family's estate: [[Tranquil Grove Manor.]]

"Could I be left alone now please? I can join you in your study when I'm ready." Your husband nods. "Whenever you're ready." You watch him exit through the doors leading to the foyer and then wait until you hear his footsteps further and further away. You walk towards the other pair of doors in the dining room, open them and [[enter the kitchen.]]

"Lord Sergei!" you hear Horace yell through the doors just before he throws them open, "She has..." The butler stops dead in his tracks, taking in the view of your furious expression, the knocked over chair and the drawn curtains. "...opened the curtains." "I am well aware" your husband replies quietly. You point directly at Horace and ask: "Do YOU know what's going on here? What my husband is keeping from me?" The butler quickly looks back and forth between you and your husband, but says nothing. You've had enough and [[decide to leave.]]

"That's it, I'm going directly to Gerald to ask him to prepare a horse and buggy for my departure. I seemingly cannot trust the people closest to me here, I will stay with my sister indefinitely. Good day." You pass Horace and through the doors to the foyer and hear your husband behind you: "Horace, restrain her." You feel strong arms turn you around and then hold you tightly. You squirm and yell: "What is the meaning of this?!" "You are being hysterical again, I can't let you leave" your husband replies as he stands up from his chair. You decide to [[make a run for it.]]

You manage to twist Horace's arms in unnatural directions and then push him forcefully, making him stagger. You start running for the doors in the foyer. "MEZ" your husband yells behind you, "You won't make it past the doors." You... [[Decide to ignore him and continue running.]] [[Remember the basement and decide to see if you can find any answers there.]]

"Horace, mark Clone J2 as a failure."

You make it to the doors, throw them wide open, run outside and then... ZAP. You collapse to the ground, shaking from pain and muscle spasms. You vaguely hear approaching footsteps through the buzzing in your eyes, but you barely register it. The footsteps stop and your husband speaks: [["Horace, do it."]]

You shift your body to aim for the ballroom doors straight across the foyer instead. You make it inside, make a right turn and run as fast as you can, not inspecting and enjoying the painted vines on the walls and the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling as you would normally do as you way too away of your pursuers. You pass through another set of doors, these ones leading to the servant's quarters. You reach a staircase and dash down, finally finding yourself in the basement, in front of the doors leading to you and your husband's laboratory. You stop dead in your tracks right in from of it: [[There is a huge padlock preventing you from entering.]]

You feel your sleeves being lifted and then you experience that sharp pain once again. This time when you look at your arm, you see Horace gripping the syringue. Your vision turns black and the last thing you hear before the world is no more is [[your husband's voice.]]

You feel yourself starting to panic as you inspect the padlock and realize that it requires the correct number combination to open. Four numbers, it could be a day and a month, or it could be anything. You decide to... [[Enter your anniversary.]] [[Enter your birthday.]] [[Enter your husband's birthday.]]

Your fingers fumble and... It remains locked. Your palms start to sweat and you hear footsteps coming down the stairs as you make another attempt at the padlock, but before you can finish you hear your husband's command: [["Restrain her."]]

Your fingers fumble but then you hear a satisfying click. You let out a laugh as you throw the padlock to the side, enter the laboratory and then bolt the door from the inside. Just a few moments later you hear pounding on the door and your husband and Horace yelling your name. That was a close call. You let yourself take a few deep breaths and then you [[turn around.]]

Your eyes widen. You see about 20 cylindrical water tanks throughout the room emitting a creepy, green light. And they all contain the same thing: [[You.]]

Your head is spinning. What on earth is going on? You try to compose yourself but the "other yous" are making you uncomfortable and you cannot bring yourself to approach them. Instead, you look over to your husband's desk further in. You see several papers strewn across the surface illuminated by a kerosene lamp. You make your way over and pick up the first thing that catches your eye: [[a piece cut out of a newspaper.]]

''MEZTUSHA POLINAS May 19th 1823 - December 24th 1856'' //It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of our beloved daughter, sister and wife Meztusha Polinas, née Orlova. A vigil will be held at Tranquil Grove Manor on December 30th.// Your thoughts flash back to your dream of the train, only now you realize it was never a dream. Your husband never pulled you loose from those train tracks: you died that night. You have to fight back tears as you inspect the rest of the contents on the desk. You find some scientific papers but mostly your husband's own notes. Regardless of the author, the subject remains the same: [[Cloning.]]

You read your husband's notes, puzzling together his achievements and setbacks. You can easily understand the process and you come to the realization that you were always smarter than him: You can do a better job.

You feel a pair of strong arms turn you around and then grip you steadily. "What are you DOING?!" you plea as tears form in your eyes. Your husband approaches and you see tears forming in his eyes as well. "Trust me Mez" he chokes "This is the last thing I want." He shakingly inhales before speaking again: [["Horace, do it."]]

Copper pots and pans line the shelves along the walls and you smell thyme and rosemary. A huge pot is on the stove, being stirred by the cook Yrsa. She is short and heavyset with muscular arms and long black hair in a bun. Yrsa turns toward you and smiles, exposing her laugh lines. "Lady Meztusha! What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?" [["My husband asked me to bring something."]] [["I'm simply here to thank you for helping to prepare breakfast, it was delicious."]]

"Oh? What exactly did he ask for?" [["Umm..."]] [["Salt and pepper."]]

"You ate it fast enough" the cook laughs. You realize that you probably didn't spend enough time in the dining room to "eat the whole feast". [["You are correct, it was simply impossible to not just shove it down."]] [["Oh we haven't finished it yet, I will return to the dining room shortly but I wanted to thank you while it was on my mind."]]

"Well I am glad that you had time to enjoy it, even though the meal was over quickly." "Oh absolutely! Please could you tell me which spices you used?" "Just simple ones like..." The cook's answer is interrupted as you start to [[hear commotion from the dining room.]]

Yrsa raises an eyebrow and chuckles a bit. "That is quite odd, but I appreciate the compliment." "I just felt like... trying something new" you reply with a nervous laughter. "Well, tell Lord Sergei that he is welcome in the kitchen more often from now on." "I will certainly do that. Thank you, Yrsa." Before you can figure out what to do next, you start to [[hear commotion from the dining room.]]

Yrsa looks at you quizzingly while you frantically try to come up with an answer. "Yeees..?" the cook urges you on. "Oh, he just wanted some water" you chuckle nervously. The awkward exchange is however interrupted, as you [[hear commotion from the dining room.]]

"Oh! I will bring those right away." "No need to bring them out, I can just take them right now." "Absolutely my lady, let me get that for you." The cook turns away from the stove, grabs one salt and one peppar mill from her working bench which she then brings over to you. "Here you go, lady Meztusha." "Thank you, Yrsa." As you reach to grab the salt and peppar mills, you [[hear commotion from the dining room.]]

"Are you SURE you saw that the curtains were open?" you hear your husband's voice through the doors leading to the dining room. "Yes, absolutley sure my lord" Horace replies. The doors to the kitchen open and in walk Sergei and Horace. They stop abruptly in the doorway when they see you. Your gaze quickly goes from Yrsa, then to Horace and then lastly to your husband. You stare at each other for a few seconds, both realizing that you haven't been truthful with one another. [[You make a run for the basement.]]

You dash for the other pair of doors in the kitchen leading to the servant's quarters. After passing through them, you quickly turn to the left to head down the stairs leading to the basement. You are very well aware of the footsteps pursuing you, but you hope that you have enough of a head start. You reach the end of the staircase and find yourself in the basement. You are right in front of the doors leading to you and your husband's laboratory, but you quickly realize something horrible: [[There is a huge padlock preventing you from entering.]]