by L J K Cross
Alexander stood as Amanda made her entrance into the great hall. She felt exposed, almost naked, as the sheer fabric of her dress hung delicately over her muscular curves. Alexander’s eyes took in every swaying step as she sashayed across the great hall towards him. The intensity of his stare seemed to burn right through the dress as if nothing could be hidden from the omnipotence of that penetrating gaze. It was as if he was drawing her in, luring her towards where he was standing at the far end of the lengthy dining table but she was prevented. Amanda’s trance like procession towards him was frustratingly prevented by the barricading bulk of Koroviev who signaled her to sit at the nearest end of the table by pulling out a seat for her.
And that was how dinner was passed – sat at opposite ends of a long expanse of dining table in that cold vacuous room. Their distance precluded any conversation. Amanda made a few vain attempts, shouting open ended questions down the table in an effort to start a conversation but Alexander merely replied with that ambiguous, half smile of his and that piercing stare. To Amanda’s growing discomfort, he never once took his eyes off her. She didn’t know where to look. There were only the dreary but expansive looking paintings that were hung on the walls to distract her. But not only did Amanda find them dull and dismal, they were so far away that Amanda had to squint to make out any detail. They might as well have been dining after hours in one of the vast galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that Amanda had once visited in New York but even that would have had a livelier atmosphere. During the interminably long, deafening silences, Amanda found herself puzzling as to why Alexander had invited her to dine in such cold and aloof surroundings. She felt like she was the one on show. As if she was one of the exhibits, there solely to be viewed and admired by an audience of one – Alexander.
It came as a great relief to Amanda when a procession of liveried staff filed in to clear away the empty plates. They were silent, efficient, barely visible as they floated in and then retreated back into the dark shadows at the outskirts of the room from which they had emerged. Alexander stood, signaled to Amanda that he wanted her to accompany him merely by holding out his hand to her. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. She instantly obeyed his command. He led her through a door at the far side of the room that Amanda had failed to notice until now, down a small corridor and out into a library that made the hall they had just dined in seem small in comparison. Amanda’s neck strained backwards as she struggled to take in sheer number of book crammed shelves that stretched to heights too lofty to be seen from ground level. Whereas the hall had been stark and bare, this room was stuffed to the rafters with books and artifacts. Every available space was crammed full. Every wooden shelf, despite seeming to have stood since time immemorial, strained under the weight of leather bound tomes. It immediately struck Amanda as a tangible metaphor for Alexander’s mind – a seeming culmination of man’s erudition since the dawn of time. The hall had been cold and imposing. This library warmed and welcomed with its roaring fire and large leather sofas that invited you to curl up and relax, maybe even doze, dream a little and allow your mind to wander liberally through that infinite expanse of knowledge.
As if feeding off the ambience in the room, Alexander too became more affable, more loquacious. It was as if the words had seeped out of the multitude of books, imbibing him with conversation and wit, charm and allure.
“You look divine in that dress. Hypnotising,” Alexander purred. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you at all during the meal. Looking at you in that dress is more satisfying than looking upon any work of art.”
Alexander’s directness caught Amanda off guard. She hadn’t expected him to be so candid with his feelings. She definitely hadn’t been expecting him to echo her own thoughts and admit that he saw her as a piece of art. She blushed bright at the thought of him being able to see what she was thinking. She saw the burning heat of her cheeks reflected in the fiery coals of his eyes and felt her temperature soar higher still. It was all too intense for Amanda. Alexander seemed to sense her discomfort and changed the subject.
“I hope you like your accommodation and that you will feel at home here?”
“The apartment is wonderful,” enthused Amanda, grateful for the change of topic.
“It is beyond my wildest expectations and the lilies were such a thoughtful touch. You really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”
“It was no trouble at all. I am glad you like them. Lilies are my favourite flower,” and as he spoke he inhaled deeply as if detecting their intoxicating scent and moved closer to Amanda.
“You know in medieval times, Lilies were said to represent feminine sexuality but even a room blossoming with lilies could not compare to the unrestrained sensuality you possess.”
Again there was an awkward silence following such a frank revelation of feelings. Again the heat in the library seemed to increase with such an outpouring of emotions. It stifled and suffocated, sucking the very air out of the room. Amanda’s head began to spin. She looked round desperately trying to avert her eyes from Alexander’s searing stare. It stripped bare any private thoughts with the starkness of its candour.
Her eyes fell on a wooden cabinet mounted on the wall. The way in which it was gently lit from below gave it a reverential gravitas and drew your attention. Amanda peered closely, her nose inches from the glass and read out loud.
“The Origin of Species. Charles Darwin.” Up close, Amanda could see her own reflection transposed over the fragile and yellowing paper. Alexander saw her looking. His reflection joined hers in the glass and she felt the heat of his breath as he proudly elaborated on the artifact.
“It is a first edition, one of just several that are still in existence. And over here,” he eagerly prompted as he ushered Amanda to a similar wooden cabinet, “are Galileo’s original writings in which he defended his views on heliocentrism.”
Looking at Alexander’s earnest face she knew she should be impressed. Of course she had heard of Galileo and she assumed that anything written in his hand would be extremely valuable but helio-whatever-it-was-called? Alexander obviously saw the look of uncertainty on her face.
“His argument that the Earth and other planets revolve around a relatively stationary Sun which is at the centre of the Solar System,” he clarified.
Her failure to grasp helio...she still couldn’t remember what he had called it, didn’t put Alexander off. He gestured to his left to another encased artifact.
“And over there is Newton’s Principa Mathematica. All great men with great minds but more importantly,” a dark look descended over Alexander’s features as he spoke that made Amanda pay even closer attention to his words, “but more importantly they were brave men who had courage to pursue their discoveries for the development of man.”
Alexander ran his long nailed fingers over the leather bound books on a nearby shelf as if he was able to osmotically absorb their knowledge just by touch. His hand stopped and without looking he removed a thick publication from the row. The Bible. He continued with his sermon.
“These great men used knowledge to uncover the truth rather than accept the dogma of the church. What does Genesis tell us happened on the sixth day of Creation?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He didn’t even need to look at the open Bible he was holding to seemingly quote it verbatim.
“…So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them. And God blessed them, and God said into them, Be fruitful, and multiply and replenish the Earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.” As he spoke he seemed to radiate a light, emitted from somewhere deep within him. The light suddenly dimmed and extinguished.
“But Darwin used science to show us that the Bible’s explanation is based on ignorance and blind faith. He proved that through natural selection, all life on Earth evolved from a universal common ancestor.” He now discarded
the Bible, casting it aside like the irrelevant work of fiction it was, and took both of Amanda’s hands in his. They felt cold despite the heat in the room.
“Why when Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge was it called the Original Sin? Why did God punish their rebellion? What did he have to fear?” Alexander breathed heavily as he passionately put forward his argument. Amanda had never really given the Bible much thought but she could see that Alexander had. He seemed to have considered such an enduring and timeless question with equally enduring and timeless reflection.
“There was a reason why I brought you here to this library, to this Tree of Knowledge, where you will find every classic, authoritative text that has ever been written on every topic known to man. I wanted to show you that the only truth is through knowledge. Since time began religion has placed the burden of original sin on the shoulders of Eve. The Church in its ignorance has blamed the downfall of man on the first woman to keep women subjugated and degraded. Every woman since Eve had been perceived as weak in body and mind – until now.” As he spoke Amanda proudly considered her reflection in the black whirlpools of his eyes. He was showing her that there was not one ounce of weakness in her strong, muscular woman’s body. He was telling her she was powerful. He was commanding her to blaspheme and challenge such misogynistic fabrications.
“You need to put your faith in me and let me lead you to your true potential. Let me show you the true strength and beauty of women.” He squeezed her hand tighter urging her to follow his lead and accept. Amanda watched his tongue flicker from between his teeth as he spoke with such passionate persuasion. His enticing words slithered in her ear, deafening her to a deceit more poisonous than any heinous act Claudius could have carried out. At that very moment Amanda had total blind faith in him. She was hanging on his every word.
“I will give you a team of scientists and nutritionists and trainers. You will have your own laboratory where the most advanced developments in sport science will give you the ultimate advantage over your competition and help you reach your ultimate ambition. Only through the knowledge of science can the female physique evolve to reach its true potential.”
The fire in Alexander’s eyes was burning brighter than ever. His hand, that was still firmly wrapped around Amanda’s, was trembling with excitement. His feverish zeal was infectiously tempting. Amanda’s head spun in delirium. She couldn’t be sure she had truly understood everything he had said but she knew that she believed wholeheartedly in him. She had complete faith in him.
“We start tomorrow, bright and early,” and as soon as Alexander had spoken, as soon as he was sure that he had converted her, Koroviev appeared to escort Amanda back to her room. As Alexander kissed her hand and bade her goodnight, all Amanda could think was that she couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come when the true magnificence of his plan would be revealed. It never once dawned on her what he wanted in return. It never once occurred to her that she too had just been deceived by the original temptation.
CHAPTER 17
Amanda’s heart was pounding so loud and hard it felt like it was going to explode, but still she ran. She knew she couldn’t stop, that she had to keep on running along the dark twisting corridors. God knew where she was and God knew where she was running to but she knew she had to try and run away from the devilish creature that was hounding her.
Amanda ran to a barred window that looked out onto a beautiful lush garden, bathed in golden sunlight. It was such an idyllic scene – a stark contrast to the dark dank hell that Amanda found herself in. She frantically banged on the window hoping to attract the attention of those in the garden. She was desperate to escape this infernal maze of corridors. She knew that she had to flee the sinister fiend that was pursuing her but they could not hear her. They continued to delight in their peaceful paradise, totally oblivious to the misdeeds of the outside world. The menacing hissing was getting closer with each sickening slither. Amanda’s only option was to keep on running.
As she ran grotesquely muscular statues seemed to loom out of the dark recesses. The more Amanda recoiled from their mutilated freakishness the more they seemed to jeer and mock her. Amanda was desperate to escape their grasping clutches but all she could do was carry on running. She was running blind, not knowing where the path would lead. But all the time she was running down the corridor that seemed to spiral further and further down, the statues became more hideous, more derisory in their taunting. The corridor got darker, more suffocating. The vile odious breath behind her seemed to breath hotter on her neck. It was a torture from which she could see no escape. Her muscles burnt with fatigue. Her lungs were crushing under the suffocating heat. Gruesomely repulsive statutes ridiculed her at every turning but still she had to try and escape from her eternally punishing pursuant.
She came to a stop. Everything stopped. The slithering. The pounding. The running. Everything was bathed in gleaming whiteness. Amanda had a sense that she had arrived, that she had found what she was trying to reach. In the centre of the white room, a room so white and sterile it could have only been a lab, Amanda found herself gazing upon a white marble statue. It was a vision of the perfect woman, so white, so perfectly smooth. Amanda beheld a vision so pure the room looked sullied in comparison.
Her ethereal beauty was captivating. Amanda couldn’t help but stare. Before her eyes Amanda saw the statue begin to pulsate. The once perfectly proportioned limbs began to throb and swell. The once beautifully carved figure began to contort and twist as it grew to hideous proportions. Amanda wanted to look away from the repulsive transformation but still she carried on staring, fixated, as the statute almost bent over double under its bulky load. The statue’s sad disfigured face turned to face Amanda and even before it spoke Amanda knew what it was about to say.
“Rukopisi ne goryat,” it snarled, baring its razor sharp fangs. Amanda shielded her eyes as if the words flung at her had been acid. When she looked back at where the statue had been stood all she could see was a pile of grey dust waiting to be carried off on the breeze.
CHAPTER 18
Amanda woke with a violent start. The bed sheets were twisted around her, trapping her as if she was still in the maze of corridors. Amanda put her hands up to her sweat-drenched forehead to try and stop the words that rang over and over in her head – Rukopisi ne goryat. Just what did it mean, wondered Amanda to herself and why did she keep hearing it? Amanda slumped back into her damp pillows hoping that the stabbing pain in her head would subside but the more she thought about those haunting words and the troubling hazy recollection of her dream, the more piercing the pain became.
“None of it makes any sense,” she sighed out loud as her eyes fell on the copy of the Master and Margarita that Alexander had given her that fateful fantastical night they had met. Amanda stared at it confusedly. The stabbing pain in her head cut deeper, seeming to derive sadistic pleasure from her pain. She didn’t recall leaving the book on her bedside table last night. She didn’t even recall unpacking it and looking at it since she had been here but given the maelstrom of pain that was whirling round inside her head it was no surprise that she couldn’t remember much.
Amanda heard a clattering of plates and knew that this time the banging was not coming from inside her head but from downstairs. Peering over the mezzanine balcony Amanda was shocked to find Koroviev setting out breakfast. It couldn’t exactly be called service with a smile though. Koroviev realised that Amanda was up and called up to her.
“I bring breakfast. Eat and be ready in half hour. I come back and get you.”
By the time Amanda had wrapped a robe round herself and descended the stairs Koroviev was nowhere to be seen – more swirling and spectral than the morning mist that floated low over the gardens. The view from the apartment was surreal. Amanda felt like she was in a castle suspended in the clouds. Detached limbs seemed to flail in the nebulous moat, floating into view and then fading away as the mist swirled around the gardens statues. It felt lik
e Amanda’s unnerving dream had just taken another bizarre and inexplicable digression.
The growing disquiet that gripped Amanda did not subside when Koroviev returned. Having frog marched her in silence along a labyrinth of corridors alarmingly reminiscent of those she had run through in her mind last night, they arrived at a room more blindingly white and sterile than the one in her dream, if such a room was even conceivable. Terrified that last night’s dream had been some kind of premonition that was about to come true, Amanda hastily scanned the room for the repellent statue that had haunted her sleep but instead found four attendants stood to attention in starch white uniforms with brilliant blonde hair scrapped back from their faces giving them an austere air. They could have easily been mistaken for statues as they stood there, still and silent with stony unflinching expressions. Just then there was a gush of air signaling Alexander’s arrival as he stepped through the white sliding doors situated behind his minions. Still they did not flinch. Nothing in their composure acknowledged his arrival and yet it was impossible to ignore. The cool tranquility of the room was instantly destroyed as the temperature soared and the atmosphere bubbled, threatening to boil over. Again upon Alexander’s appearance, Amanda’s head began to spin as her limbs went limp and powerless. Her inner frenzy surged as Alexander silently sauntered over to her. Dressed in his mandatory, black, bespoke suit he cut a dark swathe as he crossed the room: a shadowy blemish on the untainted purity of the room.
“Dobroe utro,” breezed Alexander as if he was greeting the entire room.
“Dobroe utro,” replied the lifeless figures in monotonous unity with just the slightest, but perfectly synchronised, bending at the waist.
