8 1 0 0 d r 0 s 3

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: November 05, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 05, 2016



I crouched down, eyes set on the safe. I tried to steady my breathing, my heart racing. My adrenaline kicked in, my skin grew hot and and I felt dizzy. I had to crack this combination. It was the only way I would be able to access the letters, the records, the secrets of this ancient mansion. I glanced down at the number sequence.

It appears to make no sense, just a block of numbers on a yellowed scrap of paper. But I knew the answer had to be inside this numerical maze. I had tried almost every combination, every third number, every other number, reversing them, you name it I tried it. I moved closer to the lock, and upon further inspection I noticed another column. Faded letters? Yes. 

'Wait' I thought. 'Not all of these numbers are numbers. Some of them must be letters'

My eyes widened, I finally had a breakthrough. I scrambled, turning the paper around every which way straining to see the letter hidden inside the mess. Combinations swirled in my head, I focused as much as one can when their heart is beating so loud it fills their ears, deafening them to even personal thoughts. 

My vision blurred, the characters on the paper seemed to be floating in front of my eyes. 

'Dammit Hélène, concentrate!' I scolded myself, I was running out of time. 

'Nine. Nine bold characters, that has got to mean something.' I entered each of the characters that stood out into the safe lock. 

8 1 00 d r 0 s 3

'This has to work, it simply has to. I can not leave here without-'


I gasped and fell to my knees. 

'It worked. Oh my Lord, it worked.' 

I swung open the safe door and was met with a face full of dust. They have been hiding this for longer than I thought. I reached into the back of the safe and pulled out the stacks of letters and documents, all sealed with a crimson red stamp. I felt a single paper fall into my lap. I set aside the stacks of secrets and opened the lone paper. 

'What in heaven's name is this?' I wondered, my eyes narrowing to see the dingy drawing.

It finally dawned on me that the paper I was looking at was a map. There were lines and arrows pointing to different circles that sat in the four corners of the sheet of paper. Each circle was labeled with different names. 

West Garden, Black Hill Garden, Holy Light Garden, Blood Rose Garden.

My gaze lingered on the last name. 'Blood Rose.... Blood Rose....why does that look so familiar' 

I froze, my eyes lifting to view the safe lock. 

8 1 0 0 d r 0 s 3

B l o o d R o s e

My fingers brushed against something stuck to the back of the map. A sepia tone polaroid photo was taped to it. A woman, no older that 25 lay on her back, her arms folded across her chest with her feet bound, blood surrounding her. She was dead. But the serene look on her face was what disturbed me most of all. 

The cursive writing just below it read:

"My best gal. Blood Rose Garden, 1942. 

#127 : 3rd rose bush"

It took me minutes before it hit me. This was a murder house. I gathered as many papers as I could carry and and shut the safe. I knew this house had secrets, I knew the family I had worked with for more than a year was hiding something. From the strange looks Mr. Mercier gave me when I tidied the house, to the questionable whispers and voices I heard in the basement every night... I just could not bring myself to believe it was something this sinister. I knew I had to tell someone, anyone. A tear rolled down my cheek as I mustered up the courage to take the rest of the papers and boxes that took refuge in the safe.  

As I stood up, a shadow encompassed me. I turned only to see Mr. Mercier's son towering over me. 

"Oh, gosh! Leo, Im sorry I was just-"

Before I could finish Leo raised his hand, and everything went black...

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