Blackrift Gate Read online

  Parijat Mukherjee

  The Blackrift Gate

  Eldrich Tales from an Orphan World

  Copyright © 2021 by Parijat Mukherjee

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Book design, Cover art and Illustrations: Parijat Mukherjee

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

  Find out more at reedsy.com

  Dedicated to

  My Parents.

  For whom I feel myself the luckiest and richest person in the world. They have guided me, supported me and loved me, and did everything possible in their power to ensure I can become who I am today. I love them with all my heart.

  Contents

  Preface

  Acknowledgement

  I. THE MYSTERIOUS INCIDENT OF BLACKRIFT MANSION

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  II. THE PREHISTORIC LEGENDS I: THE CAVE HORROR

  The Cave Horror

  III. PREHISTORIC LEGENDS II: JOURNEY TO THE EASTERN MOUNDS

  Journey to the Eastern Mounds

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  IV. CETERUM SANGUIS

  Ceterum SANGUIS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  About the Author

  Also by Parijat Mukherjee

  Preface

  Dont Read Further. Eldritch Shit Happens Ahead.

  Acknowledgement

  This book would not have been written by me by this time. No, really. I have so many things going on just like you reading this right now, I never seemed to have enough time, or the mood, or both. While I love writing with a passion, I tend to spend a long time making it better, I am really, really good at procrastinating (yes, better than you at it). So, it would have not been possible for me to actually publish this book in time if it was not for the constant encouragement and support from my parents Dr. Parameswardas Mukhopadhyay, and Runu Mukherjee.

  However, the biggest push and encouragements came from Aparajita Das(Adventure Accomplice), the sweet child of my sister Dr. Paramita Mukhopadhyay(Best sister) and my cousin Dr. Aditya Adhikary(a fantasy buff, my bro, my buddy), and my beloved wife Dr. Ananya Chakraborti(a voracious and fast reader), who often encouraged me and asked me about my writing progress . They were also my first readers and their feedbacks helped immensely in the final work.

  My sister Dr Paramita Mukhopadhyay also supported me in various ways.

  I also thank any shapeless unseen entities that might have influenced me as I was sitting in darkness, churning out the deepest secrets of the void on the keyboard.

  I

  The Mysterious Incident of Blackrift Mansion

  “It was just a dastardly robbery sire! Nothing mysterious about it. ”

  - Willow Road Innkeeper.

  Chapter 1

  Thunder roared in the night sky as the rain poured down, collecting in pools and puddles all around the muddy road. A rider galloped into the boundary of the Houston Hall at Hazefall. A servant quickly ran and opened the gate for him.

  Loudy, the trusted retainer and right hand man of Sir Houston came down, walking fast into the house, leaving his horse with the servant to take away.

  Entering the house, he left his dripping cloak to Marie, a maid of Sir Houston, and went straight to the main hall, where Sir Houston was relaxing with a bottle of wine, his bloodhound Lucy lying before him.

  Loudy stood near the door, careful not to stand on the expensive carpet.

  “God, Loudy, you got totally drenched! Were not you coming tomorrow?” Sir Houston said.”What happened that you needed to come in this rain?”

  “I got some news sire.”Loudy said.”Waering mansion at Blackrift is up for sale.”

  “I am listening.”Sir Houston said.”But you must change first. Go and wear something dry.”

  “As you wish sire.”Loudy left, apparently grateful, as a puddle was still forming where he was standing even though he had been wearing a cloak over his clothes.

  Marie got busy cleaning up the mess, while Sir Houston thoughtfully sipped at the wine, thinking of the news.

  Waering mansion at Blackrift! It used to be the center of power at Blackrift Valley once, when old Lord Waering was in his prime. Sir Houston was just past his childhood back then, trying to learn the ropes of trade. He knew the mansion was a considerably huge property in itself, not to mention the village and the land it surrounded.

  Sir Houston had been planning to change his residence for a long while, and was looking forward to having a mansion of his own. He took a sip, and passed a dissatisfied gaze at the crammed furniture in the hall.

  While he had spent quite a lot of money on Houston Hall, his ancestral home at Hazefall; it was simply just too small for a man who aspired to climb the ladders of fame and riches, higher in the ranks of nobility.

  A mansion could be useful, or rather essential for being considered as a part of that society. It would work even better for something like Waering family mansion, as it came with its own weight in its past than just the building itself. This mansion could send his name around, as the new emerging star in trades. It would also help his trade, as half the goods coming into Hazefall came from the villages and towns of Wyrdhill valley, and Blackrift estate was right in the middle of it, with the rout passing through the estate village. Trade can only become better if he had another place on that road.

  Sir Houston sighed, and stopped daydreaming. It would be far too early to be excited yet. Christ knows what state the mansion was in! It was not in use for long years, so there would be considerable repairworks ahead. He can proceed only if the price was justified.

  “Sire, may I come in?”

  Sir Houston looked up. Loudy had returned. Sir Houston offered a chair to him, and gestured the maid and servant to go away. Then they talked in hushed tone at length, as the fireplace crackled, mixing with the tireless rainfall outside.

  According to Loudy’s information, it was likely to be a good deal. Houston knew that old Lord Waering, the head of one of the richest great houses, had been sick for long, and had lost his mind in his age. Very recently he had died at the lakeside mansion of the Waering family. Loudy brought news that the only son and heir of late Lord Waering was planning to move to France with his French wife, so they were in a hurry to sell off their British Properties now they got the inheritance. Loudy got in touch with the agent trying to sell the Blackrift Mansion. The agent of Waering family was supposed to be waiting for them till mid noon tomorrow. Loudy bribed him a shilling, so that his master would not miss on this opportunity.

  Sir Houston passed a few shillings to Loudy, chuckling; and rang
a bell resting on the table beside him. The maid came in. Houston asked her to bring another glass for Loudy. It was good work, and good work should be rewarded.

  The next day, Sir Houston and Loudy set off for Blackrift before the break of dawn to meet the agent of Waerings. Blackrift was in the middle of the Wyrdhills, a valley of rolling uplands and hilly terrain, with flat topped highlands surrounding it like a wall, roads going in and out through the canyons that cut through the highlands, often accompanying small brooks or dry riverbeds that only flood during monsoons.

  They took the main road that cut through the highlands at Ravenpass, treacherous at nights due to fog. Fog was common in the entire Wyrdhill valley, rising from the many lakes and rivers as sun sets, staying within the basin like valley surrounded by wall like highlands excepting the canyons. Naturally, thick fog rolls out like walls through canyons and roads that pass through them as night falls in the valley. But in the morning, there was no sign of fog. Other than a bit of mud here and there, and the river by the road being fuller than usual due to recent rains, they had no problem through the pass.

  The journey was more pleasant through the valley, through the winding roads, going along the fertile uplands, coursing around the many gently sloped knolls, sometimes crossing small streams here and there.

  When they reached Blackrift estate, it was still early morning. The main road passed towards the village, connecting it and the estate to other settlements in the valley and westwards beyond Wyrdhills. The other, thinner road, went to the Blackrift Mansion. There was a small inn at the fork of the road, hoping to catch any travelers coming down either of the roads. The agent of Waering family was supposed to meet them here.

  They got down and walked to the inn, leaving the horses to the inn boy, who ran to greet them. The inn looked beat down and old, paint flaking away from the planks, floors creaking as they stepped, and the sign so rusty and worn that the name was barely readable; ‘The Willow Road’. A clear sign of the dwindling trade over last few years, as while a lot of traders still travel by this road, few now stop at Blackrift, since the ill health and eventual shifting of old Lord Waering.

  Inside, the agent, a tall man wearing all black cloth and the golden insignia of the Waering family, greeted them courteously.

  After a light breakfast with ham and cheese sandwich and little wine, Sir Houston asked the agent to take them straight to the mansion. Houston had no interest in seeing the most ordinary looking village which he had visited many times before for his business matters, though the village was going to be included in the estate he would require to purchase the mansion.

  The agent nodded, and took them through the fork of the road that lead to the mansion, going through the fields for a long distance. Lord Waering had built this mansion away from the villagers, almost to the edge of the land. Old Lord Waering did not like visitors. Sir Houston remembered a lot of infamous and mysterious rumors around him circulating in the locality, many scandals and allegations, but such is the way of the wealthy and powerful people. Once Sir Houston would buy the mansion and establish his name, maybe there would be rumors around him too!

  “Here, Sire.” Loudy said, as the horses stopped before the mansion gates.

  Houston liked what he saw. The mansion was built over even a larger area than he thought. The mansion itself had high stone walls, making it quite secure from outside antisocial elements; even though everything was covered in moss. The mansion was on the side of a great mound, that was rising up from the back of the house.

  From the west side of the mound, a small stream of water flowed along the wavy valley with a country road following it, far towards the western horizon where the outline of the bordering highlands could be seen, rising above a line of dense woods.

  The mansion had a stone base, that went into the mound itself. Almost a castle, and a novel design.

  But the price was a bit too high for the liking of Houston, especially considering the run down condition of the property. The large garden within the stone wall was a mess, completely impenetrable bunch of thickets and brambles, bushes and trees made this into a jungle. The mansion only stood out as it was on a raised ground, showing the lost tiles, windows and doors, and the remnants of paints that darkened over years of neglect, ever since Old Lord Waering was taken away from this mansion to Lakeside.

  “You must want to check it out from inside my Lord.”The agent said, taking out a bunch of brass keys.

  “Yes, yes, of course.”

  The agent unlocked the iron door, which opened in a shrill screech as Loudy and the agent pushed against the heavy doors.

  They walked through the narrow leafy road, treading carefully on the pebbled path now littered with a ton of rotting leaves that soaked up the rainwater from last night.

  “The price is too high for a wet mess like this.”Sir Houston grumbled, feeling it is the right moment to haggle as they walked through it. “I shall have to spend a fortune to make this liveworthy.”

  “You are getting a great property for the price, my Lord. This mansion is a part of history of this land.”The agent kept walking through the mud and leaves with ease.”The mansion is built upon a historical structure as old as the valley. It would be wrong to put a price on it!”

  “I do not want to put a price on it.”Sir Houston said, struggling to put aside the branches from his face with his hands.”I want to pay for things that I can use.”

  “My Lord, then you should know that there are things that you can use too, apart from the structure that you see.”The agent said.”Normally these were not to be disclosed to the outsiders, but now since Lord Waering had left us all, and you wish to become the owner of this stately mansion, I am compelled to tell you everything that makes this mansion worth your attention and time.”

  “What is so special about this mansion?” Lord Houston said in disgust, desperately trying to brush away a centipede that had landed on him, seriously contemplating if coming here was worth it.

  “There are passages that are going from the back of the house into the mound, giving way to secure inner keeps and strongrooms in case of raiders , and cellars and storerooms for supplies.”The agent said.

  This actually interested Sir Houston. Strongrooms and inner keeps are a good thing to have in a mansion in the middle of nowhere. No wonder this mansion felt almost like a castle at the base.

  As they walked upto the house, Sir Houston felt much better about it. The mansion was built with quality oak, that did not care how many centuries are passed over them. With time, money, and efforts of the serf labors, this could be a mansion worthy of jealous attention among his peers. With the price the agent was asking, this was truly a great deal. Of course, as a seasoned businessman, Houston did not show any of these in his words. He appeared most disappointed and pointed out the run down state of the structure,and repairs needed to be done to make it worthy of use, even a tree frog stuck to the pillar and tried to haggle the price down a few notches, in a most unlordly manner typical of his business side.

  The agent did not budge too much, and Sir Houston did not press it. Waerings were wealthy enough, and certainly could not be in dire need of funds by selling this mansion.

  Any other noble may nab this away from his clutch if the agent talks with them, he thought. He agreed upon the advance payments, and passed a shilling to the agent as a tip. Who bowed and accepted it, with a pleasant smile, for the first time.

  It had been a few months after the purchase, and Sir Houston was quite happy about it. However, the mansion needed a lot of work and repairs to be homeworthy, and a lot more to use it for leverage among other nobles. Houston employed the best mason for the job. It would cost him almost half the price of the mansion to make it worth living, but it was a necessity; and even an investment. Houston had been planning to marry into a great house of the land to improve his social stature, which was again, a necessity to further his businesses. Most of the trade were controlled by the high nobility, and people with tie
s with the great houses. Houston needed to get in there to mingle and grab the deals. But the great houses know the importance of themselves, and had been picky about whom to send their daughters to. Wealth, fame, connections with high noble bloodlines; if one is not from the great houses, one has to be exceptional in at least one of the three to ask for the hand of their daughters and be successful at it. The one thing Houston was exceptionally good at was business and making money; but one must have something to show for it. And, nothing could show for it better than your residence, moreso if it is some residence of a deceased master of a great house.

  He was thinking these as he was riding to Blackrift mansion with Loudy, to inspect the works he had put the men to.

  It was a cold winter morning. A grim, silent sky, slightly cloudy but not about to rain; not a particularly cheerful weather. The laborers were already busy at work, painting the walls and the fences of the weathered mansion for the new lord, taking off the dark patches of dried moss, and raking the lawn. The master mason was examining the work from a corner of the garden, extra careful today as Sir Houston was coming to inspect the work that was going on.

  “What are these things?” The apprentice asked the master mason from his back.”There are eight of them in total all around the boundary.”

  “Dont know, dont care.”Master Mason watched at the mansion they were fixing up for the new owner, turning his back on the curious apprentice and his object of query. It was a pillar like stone structure, weathered and half buried in the earth, moss growing on top.

  “But what to do with these?”The apprentice asked.

  “Lord would be coming this way today. We have a lot other things to deal with. We ask him if he wants to keep them.”The master mason watched the road as some laborers were taking a bunch of tiles on the roof.