The keeper of worlds

The wrought iron gates scraped against Eloise's teeth as she wedged them open enough to slip through, ripping her way through the tangle of creeper vines. The moon cast shadows through the twisted, gnarly fig trees looming overhead. Frogs croaked, and cicadas sounded in the woodlands around her. Her ears pricked, listening for anything that shouldn't be.

Eloise took off her hooded parker - flame-red curls spilled out around her face like forked tongued snakes on medusas head - and wedged it between the gates. The cool night air had turned stale anyway, and if she needed a quick exit, it would make getting out that much easier.

She shone her torch down the long narrow driveway. Thorny brambles huddled along its edges, eventually curving out of sight.

It was 10:30 pm.

Her hands trembled as she opened the little black notebook Mr Dooley, her employer, had given her. His handwritten instructions scrawled the pages. At the top, written in capitals, it said, MIDNIGHT, LAST STROKE, GET OUT. Her skin crawled. She pushed away the unanswered questions circling her mind. She needed the money, and twenty thousand dollars was more money than she'd ever seen. A grand for every year she'd been on this earth.

Her eyes trailed along with the handwritten map, up the path, past the old Manor, and to the greenhouse. Assuming he was right, the artifact was inside, hidden amongst the overgrown vegetation. Though why anyone would hide something so precious inside a dirty old glasshouse was beyond Eloise.

She tucked the book into her bag and lit the path ahead. A twig snapped behind her. Eloise spun, retracting the blade of her pocketknife in one swoop. A woman's pale face stared blankly at her. "Just a statue, you idiot," she huffed, annoyed at herself for getting caught up in fantastical hype. An earthy moss covered the statue. In one hand was a spear, in the other an orb. "There's no such thing as monsters, Eloise," she said, placing her knife in her back pocket. But just as she went to turn, she could have sworn the woman smiled at her. She froze, recalling the tales her parents had told as a young girl.

The stories of Briarwood Manor and the legendary fire that wiped it out eighty years ago had become something of a legend in her sleepy town. No one would enter the estate for fear of coming face to face with the beast said to be stalking the woods surrounding the Manor. It became an unspoken law - entry into Briarwood Estate was prohibited. Eloise had no intention of becoming a footnote in the Manors eerie tale, and if, by the last stroke of midnight, she hadn't recovered the artifact, she would abandon her search and leave with her life - money be damned.

As she got closer to the Manor, the forest thinned until eventually opening into a large clearing. Even in its ruined state, Briarwood Manor was the most beautiful thing Eloise had ever seen. Clematis vines crept their way over the mouldy, lichen-covered bricks of the intact Eastern wing, their purple flowers glowing like starlight. The rest of the Manor didn't fare as well. The domed glass roof of the atrium had shattered out completely. It's rusty metal bones hung threadlike, exposed to the elements. Black soot covered the collapsed walls, and rubble from the facade scattered outward over the grounds.

Outwards? Would a fire do that? She wondered.

Eloise took a step closer. A wave of silence ripple towards her, as if every cicada, every animal hiding in the brush watched, waiting to see where this next move would land her. Knee deep in trouble was most likely, but curiosity got the better of her.

She stepped over the broken pieces of marble and stone until she was standing inside the grand entranceway. Birds nested in the torn paintings still hanging on the hallway walls, leading to deserted rooms in the Eastern wing. Shredded curtains rippled on a ghost wind - almost like the house was breathing.

She knelt, examining the fissures cracking their way through the marble flooring. A large circle, clear of charcoal and debris, stamped the floor. Eloise swiped a line in the residue surrounding it and brought it to her nose. It smelt of childhood days spent running through the woodlands - earthy and fresh at the same time. She peered around at the destroyed Manor. What could have made such a blast? "Not my job," she reminded herself. But somehow, she knew the object she was searching for had something to do with this explosion.

By the time she reached the greenhouse, it was 11:50. Someone or something had ripped the front door off its hinges. Glass littered the ground - it crunched under her boots as she inched closer. A film of muck covered the glass walls - the perfect place to hide something you wanted to keep hidden.

Inside, tables lined with plants of various sizes and colours. An overgrown tree had pushed through a section of the roof, its large roots erupting from the soft earth beneath. More clematis vines snaked their way up over the walls - hundreds of purple flowers glowed in the moonlight. The smell of mould and loam filled her nostrils but concealed underneath it was something sickly sweet.

Eloise sat down on one of the large roots and pressed her back safely against its trunk. She shivered. The night air had turned chilly, and she suddenly wished she hadn't left her jacket at the gate as she tried to conjure up images of warm sandy beaches.

An indecipherable susurration danced along the curves of the clematis vines - something was coming.

Her hands squeezed into fists as she recalled Mr Dooley instructions. "At the first stroke of the tower clock, the object will appear to you." "Magic?" she had scoffed at the time, unable to hide her distaste for the word. "Yes, magic, my dear. Real-life Magic. And if you can get it back to me, you'll have real money. Lots of it."

11:55 pm – too early. Something was off. "Is someone there?" She stammered.

"Adsum," a breathy voice replied.

Eloise dived over the tree root and dropped to the ground—heart pounding like a war drum.

"Adsum," it said again.

What had she gotten herself into? She crossed her chest and gave a prayer to whatever God would listen.

The susurration quietened as the voice spoke. "Some search but never find, Some find, but death is nigh. And in the end, it always comes. A flame-haired girl is the chosen one."

Eloise wasn't sure she was breathing. Was she the flame-haired girl? Was that the reason Mr Dooley had chosen her? That Prick!

"Why do you hide," its voice was like melting honey.

Her eyes widened in surprise - the sweet smell hidden beneath the loam and mould - it was this thing. It had been watching when she entered the glasshouse, hidden amongst the vegetation.

Eloise inhaled deeply. "I'm not afraid," she whispered to herself.

"There are many things to be afraid of, girl, but I am not one of them - for the right person." It let out a low laugh that made the hairs on her arm stand up.

Her fingers gripped the tree root as she peered furtively at the thing. At first glance, it could have been an old monk covered in a moth-eaten robe, but then it glided across the room with preternatural ease, reaching out to pluck one of the purple flowers with its decayed hand.

"What are you?" she quavered.

It turned to her. Its lipless mouth curved into a smile. "I am the keeper of the orb."

"Are you going to eat me?"

"No," it said, clicking its nails together, "but other things are crawling in this wood that will. They seek the Orb, too."

Eloise swallowed hard, "why?"

"A gateway to other worlds. And for others to travel through - if you let them."

Eloise's brows knitted in confusion. "Other creatures?

"Yes."

Her body went cold with dread. "The beast. It's real?"

"Yes.' Its head tilted to the side, observing her.

Why would Mr Dooley be interested in otherworld creatures?

As if reading her mind, it said, "It was an accident. But now it wants to stay. Wants to bring others of its kind."

"What about you?"

"I am only a vessel. I hoped she would be the one, but fear claimed her."

Eloise watched as it sucked the flower into its gaping hole of a mouth, its blackened toothless gums smacking together as it gnawed on the violet petals. Her stomach curdled. Soon, purple light began to emit from its mouth - the petals were glowing. Swirling around until the light was so bright, she had to cover her eyes.

The thing burped, and then the light dimmed. Eloise looked up. Something circular radiated from within the thing's stomach. An orb! "Take it," it said, pointing a clawed hand. Her eyes went wide. "How?"

The clocktower struck twelve. Once, twice. In the distance, a wailing started.

"Take it," it screeched.

Eloise sucked in a lungful of air and then plunged her hand through its paper-thin skin. Her hair whipped out like fire as her hand connected with the smooth sphere. Remembering its words, she pushed back her fear and thought of nothing but the Orb. Waves of power pulsated through her, and she saw everything from beginning to end. She saw them calling him when it was still a man, saw the woman with flame-red hair, the explosion of power that tore through the Manor, and Mr Dooley? Was that even possible?

Eloise gripped the Orb and pulled. The force of it launched her backwards. She coughed and spluttered, trying to catch her breath. Her arm was covered from the shoulder down in a glowing purple ooze. It dripped with the same sickly smell of the cloaked thing. She tried not to gag.

"It is not safe here for you anymore."

The light from the Orb reflected in her eyes, "What am I meant to do with it?"

"Keep it hidden. keep it safe."

"What will happen to you?"

"That is not important. You are the guardian now. But remember, not all monstrous things are evil, nor is evil always monstrous."

Mr Dooley's face flashed in her thoughts.

The walls of the glasshouse trembled. "It is coming. Run!" So, she did. And when she heard the beast tear through the glasshouse, when she heard the keepers screams as it shredded him to ribbons, she kept running.

When the gates were in sight, a plan formed in her mind. Eloise grinned, swerving off course as she sprinted towards the statue.

The ground shook as the beast tore through the woodlands - closer, closer still, but it was too late. Gasping for air, Eloise pushed her way through the gates and collapsed onto the bitumen road, where Mr Dooley was already waiting.

He dropped a duffle bag beside her without saying a word and seized the Orb from her hand. The beast wailed as he placed the glowing Orb into a metal case - its mouth dripping with the same purple ooze. "Spend it wisely," he said before driving off.

Eloise began laughing hysterically. She pulled the bag of money to her chest, wrapping her arms around it - the ooze from the keeper all but gone. By the time Mr Dooley realised the Orb she had given him was nothing but slime-covered stone, she would be long gone.

Inside her bag, the real Orb thrummed. She placed a hand on top of it, calming the energy. She was the keeper now - even if she didn't entirely know what that involved - and she would protect it with her life, just as the one before her had.