Brahms: Unmasked

Coming Home- Mental Breakdown

These past few days spent with my family were very much needed, but I was ecstatic that I was going to see Brahms again.

I managed to catch the first plane home at 3 in the morning. The amount of time spent travelling wasn't exactly ideal, but it's all for the sake of seeing Brahms. I hopped into a taxi, told the driver my destination and he started driving through the city, eventually reaching the countryside. After all of the Hussle and bustle of life in America, it was quite enjoyable to experience some peace and quiet.

I stared out of the window and looked at the deep green fields filled with exotic plants and flowers. Each one has taken time to grow and mature, but with help of another source. It isn't able to live without the sun and water. Could I really live without Brahms?

The taxi pulled up outside the Heelshire mansion, as I paid the driver, and placed all of my belongings inside the estate. The atmosphere felt so desolate and... empty.

I walked into the book filled library to discover something shocking. Every book was misplaced around the room or thrown onto the floor. Tables and chairs were broken or destroyed. The expensive chandelier was shattered into a million pieces onto the rug in front of my feet. Luckily, I was wearing shoes, so no shards of glass would be impaled into my feet! 'Please don't tell me every single room in the house is like this'.

In the corner of my eye, I can see a sobbing and heartbroken Brahms, rocking back and forth in a corner. He's mumbling something to himself, which I cant quite make out.

"Brahms?" I muttered out.

His eyes shot towards mine, almost as if he wasn't expecting me. I approached him closer and bent down to my knees and to his level. I rubbed his back and told him that everything is okay.

"It's her.. all her. She made me do this. I'm sorry you had to see me like this." Brahms apologised.

This was not the 'welcome home' I was expecting.

"Who made you do this Brahms? There is no one here." I asked confused and curious.

"She is here." Brahms stated.

"Where and who?!" I demanded, becoming a little more agitated by Brahms' choice of words.

Suddenly, I started putting the pieces together. He is talking about a girl. The only girls he has ever had contact with are myself, his mother and..... the young girl he supposedly 'murdered' when he was younger. Emily Cribbs! The girl who Malcolm talked to me about, before I found out that Brahms Heelshire was actually alive, and probably listening in on our conversation, despising Malcolm even more every second, as each word came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Brahms. Are you talking about Emily?" I asked quietly.

Before he could respond, he had me pinned up against the book shelf, with his skeletal hands gripping to my shoulders.
"DONT SAY HER NAME" he yelled from under his mask.
Not even a sound escaped from my lips as my heart was pounding from adrenaline.
He released his grip and ran off into the walls, causing me to fall to the floor, sobbing.

She's been.. possessing him? Haunting? Is this her revenge? If so, how long has this been going on for? Is her spirit in this house?

I hate him. I hate that monster of a man. He shows no emotion. He doesn't care who he hurts, as long as he gets his own way. And now, he expects me to clean his mess?!
My vulnerability to him was crystal clear. What am I expected to do? Act like this dreadful torment isn't true? Here's me.. naive little Greta thinking that me and him could ever work. Never.

How am I supposed to clean up this mess? How can one person do this? If he's capable of this, what is he capable of doing to an actual human? I saw what he did to Cole but could he do worse? I never thought a fearless and mysterious lost soul could have a breakdown.

To be continued...