(This is a challenge, a Mystery in several episodes, each one finishing with a clue, a riddle or a puzzle. For you to solve.. The answer unlocks another part of the story. Are you clever enough?) “Has everything been set in motion?” A cold voice sounding from behind the granite desk, set on heavy, teak legs, polished with the greatest attention into a deep shine. The surface of the desk flawless, just lined with a phone. A small desk light lights the surfcace, revealing the intricate veins embedded in the stone, casting a shadow hiding the man sitting in the chair behind the large desk. The man standing in the cenre of the room, flanked by an enormeous marble hearth, immaculatly dressed in a black suit, his hands folded behind his back, nods his head as he confirms the question.
“Yes sir, the package has been sent. It should arrive tomorrow morning, at the break of dawn” “Very well, you may leave” The soft leather of the chair whispers almost silently as the man leans back and folds his hands under his chin, his fingers pulling slowly on a white goatee. His eyes closed, a small smile curling his lips. He ponders for a moment, before he leans forward again, the fluent movements of his body, betraying full control over it. He picks up thephone, pressing a single button.
“See to it the package is delivered on time. Exactly on time...” Without awaiting an answer, the phone is put down, the man leaning back in the chair again, eyes closed, hands folded under his chin, fingers caressing the white hairs springing from his chin.
The streets lined with fog, clouds of sharred mist washed through the streets of the early morning. A dark van stopping at the corner of a street, lights dimmed, idle for a few minutes before a door is opened. A man, dressed in an immaculate black suits gets out of the car, a small package clenched under his arm. He closes the door silently while his head turns all directions, his eyes peircing through the grey of the morning. The sun is about the break from the confinement of the horizon, the sky colouring a deep orange in the distance. It’s the break of dawn.
After convincing himself he is alone on the street, he quickly walks up the stairs towards the entrance of the large colonial mansion. His soes lined with rubber soles, his steps make no sound as he walks over the deck to the main entrance. He places the package down carefully, in front of the door, a few feet away, catching the light of the Victorian lantern that is mounted above the door. He chekcs his surroundigs again, carefully, taking his time to ensure he is alone and unsees. Then he pushes on the doorbell, waiting for a light to go on in the house. As he hears the first stumbles of people wakening up, he hastily hides in the shadows and makes his way back to the van.
Parked in the shadows of a big oak tree, he slips in unseen, watching the house from a distance. The night vision binocualrs pressed tightly to his eyes, he sees a light wash over the veranda, the package suddenly bath in light. A man steps outside, looking around carefully before he steps in and looks at the package. As he turns it from all sides, jiggling it close to his ear, he starts to retreat slowly, the light on the veranda starting to fade as the door is closed. With a soft sigh, the man places the goggles away and starts the car, leaving the spot with dimmed light. A minute later, another car is started, a black sedan, slowly moving through the street with dimmed light, only to halt at the mansion for a moment. The lights on in the front of the house, the car waits a few seconds, before almost silently pulling up, disappearing at the curve in the street.
On the granite desk, the room slowly getting lighted by the first rays of the morning sun, the phine rings. Before it can ring twice, it is picked up.
“Is it done?” The phone put down without another word, the soft whisper of the chair as the man leans back, folding his hands under his chin as his fingers caress the white hairs springing from his parched skin.
*** Dazed, my eyelashes sticking together from the sleep that collected in the corners of my eyes, I wake up and try to figure out where I am. Lost in dreams, drifting still in clouds as I met my Angel there, I look around. The room already getting lighter, the sun just breaking through the horizon, emitting it’s first rays down. I push the covers off me, search for my robe on the chair and get out of bed. Slipping into the arms, I’m not bothered with tying the strap, letting the panels float free as I walk out of the bedroom. I descend the large staircase at the centre of the house and move towards the central hall. Wondering why I bought a house this size.
Sleepy I open the door, not sure what to expect from a caller this early in the morning. The cool breeze of the morning washes over my face, freshening me up immediatly as I expectingly swing the door open. I look outside, only to find noone there. A curse in my mind, damned kids... They should be around somewhere. I turn my head in all directions, dileberately ignoring the package at my porch. As my searching eyes find no target, I direct my attention to the package. Wrapped in a newspaper, a small label attached, looking rather insignificant. I pick it up with hesitation and hold it to my ear. Noticing the label, I glance my eyes over the black letters, hand written on parchment, so delicate it almost seems to crumble as I hold it in my hands.
“In Ultimum Donum”
What the... ? In Ultimum Donum? That name... My skin collecting in deep wrinkles as I frown, trying to dig deep in my memory.. A name I once heard before.. but where... what.. What was it that calls for that eerie feeling? A shiver runs down my spine as I feel my mind cloaked with a dark sense. I step back inside, my focus on the little box and the parchment lable. I move to my study, a large room at the front of the main house, its private entrance for meeting business associates, lined with shelves, filled with books, a dark oak desk set up at the window.
I turn the switch and immediatly the study is bathing in light, making me squint my eyes as they slowly get used to the brightness. I place the box on my desk and sit in my chair, looking at it for minutes while my mind searchs for that little crossroads in my brain that opens the door to the memory.. What does that name mean... “In Ultimum Donum”... Suddenly I notice the newspaper that is wrapped around the box. It’s a single page, yesterday’s date at the top, filled with colums and colums of personal adds, from lonely souls looking for that unique connection, to prostitutes solliciting for clients. One add catches my eye. Seperated from other adds through 2 large intteruptions in the columns, 3 letters are printed.
My eyes shoot from the paper to the label and back, a suspicion growing in the back of my mind, a tingling sensation creeping up my spine as I let the notion sink in... This isn’t a coincidence... Certain of my suspicions, I start to open the paper, careful not to tear it. Somehow the paper seems to let loose as soon as my finger pries underneath and soon I can let my hands rub over it, smoothening it out on my desk. I study the single message again, but without finding a resolution.
I shift my focus to the box, the cardboard discoloured, a thin hemp tie keeping the lid on the bottom. I take the box in my hand and shake it near my ear, hearing something rattling inside, something metal maybe, but wrapped? I slowly start to pull on the loose ends of the tie and release the knot, slowly taking the lid off the box. The box is practically empty, just a zip-lock bag with a small steel key, engraved with a code. In black marker, 3 letters are written on both sides of the bag: GCS
I raise my eyebrows. Of all the mystery wrapping around this morning, this riddle is too easy to solve. Being in New York, there can be only one meaning to those 3 letters. Grand Central Station. The key must be a locker key. This seems to contradict everything I have felt since I saw the three letters on the little label. Maybe someone is playing a prank on me and something will explode in my face when I open the locker at GCS. If that is really what it is. I open the bag carefully and take out the key. I look at the code, but no lights suddenly switch on above my head.
As I push the small box to the side, I accidentally hit the mouse of my laptop and find it turned on. I decide to satisfie my curiosity and type in: IUD. The screen fills with pages about spirals, birthcontrol, medical transcripts and reports. No reference towards the eerie feeling I had before. But then I follow a hunch, an idea that jumped up in my mind and I enter the code of the key. Suddenly the screen goes black, all leds on my laptop start to blink and the fan stops running. In completely silence, the atmosphere in the room suddenly heavy, pressing down on my shoudlers as a heavy burden, golden letters start to fade in on the screen and as soon as they are loaded, the fan starts working again and the leds return to normal. Slowly the letters start to scroll, a message displayed line by line..
“In Ultimum Donum”
Congratulations, you have proven your worthiness
Great surprises await you, be vigilant always until the final night
Look for the hints, solve the puzzles
Make your benificiary proud and collect your prize
Be on time, at the right place...
Cold sweat starts to bead on my forehead as my eyes read line by line, my pen scribbling on a note pad, before the text disappears in black again. Before I can really let the words sink in, the screen flashes and suddenly a feed from a camera is shown, a bed, silk sheets curved around the long, slender legs of undoubtedly a woman. The camera zooms out, revealing more of her body, her lower body slides into the frame, uncovered from sheets, out of sight by a slender hand that cups her sex, fingers moving vividly. My eyes flare open as I see the body moving on screen, the hips of the woman circling, grinding against her hand. Her thumb is circling her clit, her fingers moving over her button in swift motions, clearly leaving a film of moisture behind before the thumb resumes the soft swirl.
The speed of her bronzed fingers quickens, her digits disappearing between her legs, the silence suddenly broken by a whimper of pleasure. My eyes wide open, captured by the elegance of the woman, her selfpleasuring not distracting me from the beauty of her body, as far as the camera allows me to see. The silk sheets are of a high quality, the edge of the matress disclosing an expensive brand, by sheer appearance alone. Someone has gone through a lot of trouble for this scene and it is definitly meant for me. Excited by the sight, the soft, coarse voice of the woman now sounding deeper and more frequent, her pleasure rising with each move of her fingers.
My member showing a clear response to the scene on my laptop, growing quickly to a full erection. As if my mind is read, my hand touching myself, the woman opens her legs, slides her fingers out and shows her dripping sex to the camera. She holds her position for a few seconds while soft sucking and slurping sounds are heard, then her fingers reappear, pinching her clit before they are pressed into her wetness again. Her soft moans become louder as she finds her rythm, my hand moving unnoticebly in the same speed, precum collecting at the head as I slide the foreskin up and over it, over and over again. My moans start to mix in with hers and I have the feeling as if she is tuning into me, as if she can hear and see me as clearly as I her. ..
But the desire washes all thoughts away, my dream had stimulated me already and the scene of this beauty masturbating for me, closing in on her own climax, is too arousing to ignore. I let all reservations go and concentrate on the screen, where the woman’s hand is now plunging in and out of her sex, her inner thighs and pelivs coated with her own juices, her body pushing into her own fingers. I gasp, grab my chair with my free hand and scream a silent scream of pleasure as I erupt, my semen jetting up, covering my abdomen, forming a little pool in my belly button as it drizzles down. At the same time, the moans of the woman turn into a long stretched scream as her legs clench, her hand folds and her juices start to squirt from her lips, her body trembling with the force of her release. And then the screen goes blank, my laptop shutting down without warning.
I blink, my hand and stomach covered in semen, then look aorund to find myself in my study, the evidence of the mystery all around me. The box, the newspaper page, my body still trembling from the scene, the scribbled text of the opening message. I look around and find some hankerchiefs, cleaning myself quickly before restrarting my laptop again. Quickly I open my browser and type in the key-code again, only to find an empty page, a mislocation message blinking in the screen. I lean back, the thoughts in my mind tumbling over eachother when suddenly the laptop blinks again, brightly enough to permanently burn a message into the screen:
“a circling light, cast out at night
a warning for the shore
Unconnected, unprotected
Battered by the sea
A stand alone, Uncomfort zone
Stoney roots beneath the merky waves”
***
AChat Forum
