Ohborn Castle Pt. Nine

The castle remained unchanged. The rough ground still rolled. The pitch coated rock walls still felt colder than ice, and the light from the scattered openings did not shed deeply. OhBorn is very small. There is the entry chamber with the hole, and the ante chamber. As Eric walked through the entry way he made sure not to look at the hole. He avoided all of it. He steered far clear of the velvet rope blocking its entrance. In the ante chamber, the stairway to the ramparts was blocked off by a metal gate, and that was it. That is the whole of Ohborn. If he dared hop the metal gate and climb the crumbling stair he'd find nothing but a view of the surrounding area. Instead, he re-entered the main chamber. He didn't mean to but he did glance. An accidental glance, but a glance just the same. The hole was there. It's smooth descent into the wall still had its ever alluring pull. Eric's mind filled with memories. Even of memories he could not remember. His parents often told him of his first outer uterus trip to the castle. People asked his parents if they were going to show him the image to which they replied. “We don't do that. It will be his choice.” Eric did eventually view the image when he 12 years old. Did he have a choice even then? Was he pulled by an irresistible call? Or did societal pressure make it impossible for him not to look, or human curiosity? Even now, a devoted skeptic, the pull to look remains. “It is not even that beautiful.” He thought. He could prove that thought to be true too. He could look upon its face and scorn it. He could do it surely. He edged closer. At the line of the velvet rope one can leer in such a way as to see it from afar. (No true need to do it proper.) He inched closer. His hand reached out toward the wall to steady himself.

“No touching at Ohborn!”

Eric couldn't help but to lurch and reel. He spun round to see the worn brown robes of Ohborn's overseer. Yet his voice had not matched him. He shouted like the overseer of his internship days. Of course he would know. He knew his predecessor well.

“Bernard, you nailed him. That was.” He catches his breath. “Superb.”

“And it did the job too. He always scared the bejeebees out of you.”

“Anyone would have been startled. I was told I had free reign to scope out this place.”

“Within reason.”

“Oh is reason a thing here?”

“Funny. Doubly so if they think they can film here. They use digital cameras now correct?”

“They think that will help.”

“Do you think they're right?”

“....”

“I suppose they have to try don't they?”

“You didn't have to give them the go ahead. It wasn't my idea to shoot the interior.”

“I know it wasn't.”

“You knew? But I thought...”

“No. And.. yes. Besides it is good that they are doing this documentary. Ohborn needs to be preserved before the end.”

“Ever the doomsayer! I thought of you last year when the crack pot predicted the world's end for what is it the fourth time? I imagined you in here. Huddled by the wall hoping that the tar would fall.”

Bernard's eyes shift within their settings.

“I knew it. I know you.”

“And I you.”