Argyris, the name of the house, town, and family. The Argyris family has a long lineage, dating back to the Dark Age. They haven't stayed in one place. They are Greek, but moved to the Americas during the late nineteenth century. They arrived to Ellis Island, rich and snobbish. They traveled west to San Francisco where they created a business and owned 1740 acres. After two generations, they sold a lot of the land to people who built houses. Enough people moved there; they created a town. The family who was still in control of everything called the town Argyris, after them.
The family has always had sons. Even during the 1950's when it wasn't such a big deal to pass on the family, they always kept that tradition. The eldest son would marry and inherit the house. Once he was married, the father would move into the west wing, where they were shut off from the rest of the family. If they were still living by the time the grandson married, the father/son would join the grandfather. This way, the house remained intact and a historical sight, with additions frequently.
By the time the 1990's rolled around, the house went from its' original mansion to having expanded with another wing almost ten to twenty years. Each wing marked a different time period, or style. There was Edwardian, Victorian, French, Greek, the most prominent, the fifties, rooms with record players, the 60's, Italian, the 70's, with a disco ball, the 80's, and the 90's. There was also a technology room that had twenty computers, each also being bought as time went by, showing progress of the computer. The outside of the house was white, and had a Parthenon look to it. There were columns and Greek gods all around the front porch and the grounds.
The grounds were still very large, but not 1740 acres. There were about 100 acres and trees lining gravel ways, and rose bushes, and gardens. The house and land was spectacular. The servants attending the grounds were experts at their jobs.
The house, land, family were all a monument for the town. Across the country, people knew of the Argyris family. Since the family was famous, the town was famous. The town had a similar famous air to it not unlike the Wall Drug store and the town surrounding it.
During the new century, there was a tragic tale. A tale about love and magic. A tale full of despair.
Lysander Argyris was a rude arrogant man. He was snobbish, like his family before him. As a young boy, Lysander bullied other kids. He was an only child. With his rich father, he had all the rich clothes, the latest toys. As he grew, he stayed immature and had a horrible temper. He demanded for the servants to practically worship him. He was close-minded. In his adolescence years, he was handsome, and loved by all the girls. When he was in his senior year, at the age of 18, his father and mother were coming home from a meeting and found themselves in a car crash. His mother died immediately and his father was in critical condition. Two weeks after the crash, he died. Lysander missed them. He cried at their funeral. Since he was of age, he wasn't considered an orphan by law. Many family members saw him as one though. Because of his pride, he refused to let anybody stay in the house. He wanted to mourn lone somely and with out interruption of others. The only people allowed to stay were the servants.
One night, during winter, an old haggard woman came upon the House of Arguers. She was cold, tired and wet. She was clothed in clothes that came from a thrift shop. In her left hand, was a beautiful rose, healthy and alive? So beautiful, it surely contained magic.
She found the door and raised a weathered hand, grasped the knocker, and knocked. She could hear the reverberation of the boom echo throughout the house. A few moments later, a crisp clean butler came to the door. His name was Smith.
"How may I be of assistance, ma'am?" he asked, staring down his nose.
"Please sir," she croaked. " I need a place to stay for the night. It is cold, and windy and wet. I have been traveling for a long time. Please. For one night. I offer this rose in exchange for a place to stay."
He thought about her claim. Yet, as much as he wished to give her a place, he knew the master of the house would object.
"No!" came a brusque reply.
The woman focused her attention on the young master of the house. "She will not stay here. Turn her out." and he turned to leave.
"Please, sir. It is cold. I'm tired."
"Stop your complaining at once, old woman! Should you continue to speak, I shall cut off your tongue. Now, be off!" and he dismissed her again.
"Do not be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within."
"What is all this jabber? Leave I tell you! You old, haggard, woman. Leave!" And he started walking to her, ready to literally throw her out.
"Stop." She said, her voice no longer crackled. Her voice was beautiful, youthful. Although she no more than uttered the word, the emotion behind it was powerful enough to be heard in a noisy room. She stood straighter and from her short hideous form, grew a tall beautiful lady. She was full of magic; you could sense it off her. She was light skinned, and had brown hair, falling off her shoulders in ringlets. Her eyes were a bright blue and piercing. She had a dress on. It was green and sparkled in the dim light. It hugged her body to her knees where it fell loose and flew out if she spun. The rose was beautiful before, but now it was stunning and hard to look at, with all the beauty it consumed. In a shower of sparkles and flames, her voice cried out, bellowing, "THERE IS NO LOVE IN YOUR HEART. YOU HAVE TORMENTED PEOPLE AND ARE CRUEL. YOU WILL BE PUNISHED. YOU ARE HANDSOME. BUT, YOU WILL BE TRANSFORMED INTO SOMETHING SO HIDEOUS NO ONE WILL BE BRAVE ENOUGH TO LOOK AT YOU. YOU SHALL BE CONFINED TO YOUR HOUSE AND ITS GROUNDS. THE SERVANTS WILL STAY WITH YOU. YOU SHAL HAVE ENDLESS SUPPLY OF FOOD.
ON YOUR TWENTYITH YEAR, YOU SHALL ANNOUNCE YOUR LOVE TO ANOTHER, AND SHOULD YOU EARN HER LOVE IN RETURN, THE SPELL WILL BE BROKEN. BUT, IF NOT, YOU WILL BE DOOMED TO REMAIN A BEAST FOR ALL TIMES." She handed the rose to a begging Lysander who took regretfully.
"THIS ROSE WILL SHOW YOU THE PASSAGE OF TIME. IT WILL BE KEPT UN DER A GLASS AT ALL TIMES. THERE IS A WINDOW IN THE WEST WING THAT SHOWS YOU THE OUTSIDE WORLD. YOUR HOUSE AND THOSE WHO SERVE YOU ARE PUNISHED. LIVE YOUR LIFE THINKING ABOUT HOW ONE RUDE MISTAKE MADE YOUR LIFE HELL. HAVE A HAPPY LIFE AS A BEAST. NO WOMAN SHALL NOW WANT YOU." And she turned to the stairs behind him. "VASTRA OMI VENT-ANA COR LIAE WEHNLA" and fiery silver sparks shot out of her staff. She turned on him.
"No! Please! I beg of you!"
"TOO LATE! YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOUWERE RUDE TO ME." And she uttered a powerful curse towards him. He was kneeling, begging. A sharp pain pierced through his feet. He glanced down, choking back a cry. What he saw made him scream- His feet were enlarging. He whipped off his sneakers and saw his nails growing into claws. Hair grew, growing in clumps, creating fur.
"Please! Stop! I'm sorry! NO! Stop this! PLEASE!" But the enchantress didn't stop. She kept her staff pointed at him, repeating a cantation louder and louder each time, and her eyes were glazing over since she was getting lost in the magic.
The spell soared through his body reaching his knees, creating new bones, getting rid of some making new tendons or muscle. His ankle shaped, growing larger, making it appear as a dog's leg.
The spell reached his hips, sprouting for everywhere when it reached his tailbone. A tail souring forth and he cried out in pain and shock. He looked at his torso, saw his chest expanding. Fur grew everywhere.
Lysander was sitting back now, on his feet. He roared out in pain as the magic reached his back. The magic twisted and bent his human back out shape, curving it, enlarging it making him hunched. Fry grew.
When the magic reached his neck, fur grew in excess clumps. His scalp in the back grew and then his ears moved to the top of his, growing letting his hearing ability soar to inhuman status. His nose grew into a snout, and his smell ability grew too. His jaw grew, and connected to his nose giving his body another canine quality. Fangs sharp strong grew.
Upon his head, two nubs of bone appeared. Lysander roared from the pain, and his voice changed. His roar also. Going from a human bellow to a beastly roar became deeper, so massive and threatening, had the butler not been bound by magic, he would have fled.
Horns popped out of his skull. They were short, about four inches. Pain coursed through his body, and he, again, roared. His arms were now muscular, and hairy. Ending in paws, with long sharp claws, as big as dinner plates. His clothes ripped on him, being as they were to small for the new monstrous form.
Once he was done, the magic took hold of the House of Argyris All the white pillars and marble had turned black. All the statues of the pleasant Greek gods, became evil demons and imps. Dark angels. The paintings of soft people turned harsh. The openness, purity of the house became enclosed, dreary, and sad.
The magic reached the servants now. Whatever your position was the object you were. The cooks became stoves. The pool men became pool instruments. The electricians became lamps. The butler became a coat rack. The rest of the house was enchanted. The House of Argyris was now an enchanted mansion.
While her work was done, the enchantress said, " Live your life regretting remembering how you are spoiled rich and unkind. Maybe you can learn to be the opposite. Maybe. Good-bye Lysander Argyris. Maybe you shall feel my presence later, if you get changed back. Maybe." And she left him.
There are three Bollak sisters. But two of them, and most everybody else, agrees in saying the third is unimportant and bad.
When the eldest was 14, and the middle was 11, they had a younger sister. In childbirth, their beloved vain mother died. The child was beautiful, like her sisters and all three received beautiful names. Mirabelle, the eldest, Michelle, the middle, and now, Kaelyn the youngest. Both the oldest and middle were vain and beautiful. They had blue eyes, that were gorgeous, walnut shaped eyes, and their lips were thin and small, with teeth glowing white and perfectly straight.
After graduating high school, Mirabelle went on to be a model, and Michelle went on to be a fashion designer. Both married, richly, yet unfaithfully. The last their younger, wiser sister heard of them, was seeing their faces in a magazine for fashion.
Kaelyn Bollak was the youngest. She was beautiful, and one of the nicest, smartest, kindest girl one could ever know. She grew up very close to her father, since she had no mother, while her sisters ignored him completely.
When she was about 16, her father changed his will because he had cancer. He included his youngest, most precious daughter the most, and his eldest daughters the least. A while later, and many doctor appointments later, he fell victim to a liver cancer. Within two years, he died. Kaelyn was heartbroken. Her sisters sent cards with their condolences. They each received $4,000. Kaelyn inherited everything. She sold the house for a smaller one, sold three of the four cars, and sold much of the furniture. This way, she had over $130,000 in savings. $70,000 went to her college.
During college she excelled in her classes, and soon, became a teacher. She accepted a job shortly after she graduated at the South Western Elementary School. She taught third grade, and loved her job.
Every year, in the last three days of August, Kaelyn would visit her grandmother. She was old, and nearing death, and loved her granddaughter. She would come back after the vacation and get ready for school, and await the new arrivals.