Chapter Five - Haunted

Despite Franco's protests, Elizabeth insisted that she must see what the mysterious attic contained. "I told you; it's just a bunch of old paintings, some sculptures and a few other works of art. Nothing more," Franco said.

Elizabeth spoke to the boys, "Cameron, Aiden, and Jake, it's past your bedtime. You need to go to bed."

"I promise to tuck them in, Mrs. Baldwin," offered the sitter.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, then she headed toward the staircase with the intention of checking out the attic. Franco reluctantly followed her.

Elizabeth was out of breath when she finally reached the attic door. Before she could touch it, Franco moved ahead of her, twisting the knob and opening the door. They stepped into a room which consisted of complete darkness.

"It there not a light up here?" Elizabeth asked as they stood in the inky blackness. It was in that moment, Elizabeth saw something that appeared haunting. It was as if a hundred tiny stars were glowing in the near distance directly in front of her.

"Franco?" Elizabeth called out as she felt suddenly all alone in such a dark and gloomy place.

Franco switched on a light so that the room was bathed in a soft glow. As she looked around, she did indeed see the many unfinished paintings that Franco had spoken of as well as the various sculptures and other works of art. But as she turned to her left, she found the table and upon it was the large book her son had mentioned.

"Franco, what is this book?" Elizabeth asked as she approached the table. There was no sign of the skull that Jake had claimed he had seen upon the table next to the book.

"Don't touch it, Elizabeth," Franco warned. "Please."

"But what is...?" she began to ask, but her words stopped abruptly as she turned to look at her husband.

He seemed greatly agitated, but Elizabeth did not notice. She was transfixed by the photographs that lined the walls directly behind him. Those pictures were terrifying! She saw dozens of old-fashioned photographs of people, all of them in black and white. Their eyes! They were stranger than anything Elizabeth had ever laid eyes on. It was as if they were staring oddly into her very soul. The photographs definitely had to be the ones that had frightened her little Jake.

"Franco, who are the people in all these pictures?"

"They are my ancestors," he said as he stared ahead as if he were lost in some sort of trance. "I am their last descendant. There will be no others after me. The darkness I have carried inside me; it will die with me."

"You don't know that," Elizabeth disagreed.

"Ohhh I do know that," he insisted. "I do not want a child. I've committed terrible crimes and I would not wish that darkness upon a child of my flesh."

Elizabeth shook her head, disagreeing with him. After his brain tumor had been removed, Franco had changed. He was no longer that frightening and sinister man.

"That's all in the past. You're a good man now; the man I came to love," she said as she approached him and settled herself into the strength of his arms.

She could feel every muscle in his body tensed up as she held him close. Very gradually, he relaxed. He wrapped his arms around her. "I love you, Elizabeth, so much. I am sorry, but I am far too selfish to let you go."

"I love you, too," she said as his lips settled over hers. She closed her eyes, getting lost in the passion of his kiss.

As their lips melded, the eyes in those portraits began to glow like stars. Elizabeth's eyes were closed; she did not witness the haunting sight of those watchful eyes.

Franco swept Elizabeth away as he took her from the attic. Franco firmly closed the door behind them and said, "I want to make love to you." She did not protest as they made their way down the staircase and to their bedroom on the second floor.

He carried Elizabeth in his arms and lay her tenderly upon their bed. As their lips and bodies melded, Elizabeth thought of Franco's words he had uttered in the attic. He was wrong - ever so wrong!

He didn't know it yet, but she was three months pregnant with his child.