Art Entwined in Blood, Pt. 5

    "Frank, I'm glad that you've been staying home these past two weeks, but why are you so uneasy?"

    Jamia had gotten home early from work and was preparing dinner for her husband and herself. She placed a ceramic plate in front of Frank and dished out vegetables, potatoes, and, for the sake of Frank's vegetarianism, a tofu steak. She continued with the same contents on her own plate, instead with a real meat steak.

    "Thanks," Frank mumbled, ignoring the question.

    "Are you upset? Are you constipated?"

    Frank gave her a confused look, and began to pick at his food. Realization dawned on Jamia as she moved all of the plates and food away from herself and Frank.

    "The fuck, Jamia?"

    "It was that guy."

    "Gerard."

    "Yeah, Gerard. You haven't been going to see him."

    "I know," Frank droned, reaching for his dinner plate. Jamia pushed it away.

    "What did you do?"

    Frank frowned at his hands resting on the table and turned to glare at Jamia.

    "Why do you always assume I did something? He could have done something just as easily as I could. I always seem to be blamed for every robbery, every murder, every broken heart, and all I do is go to work and try to spend quality time with my wife!" Frank stood up, grabbed his plate, and stormed into the bathroom; virtually the only room in the house with a lock.

    "Frank, it's not like that," she followed behind him only to get the door slammed in her face.

    "Frank, please. Don't be like this. You know I love you; I didn't mean to blame you for anything, I just..." she trailed, ending with a sigh. She leaned her back on the door and slid down so she was sitting on the hard-wood floor.

    "I'm sorry, Frank."

    Frank sat in the bathtub, no longer touching his food. He knew he had overreacted, but he didn't want to face the conflict while it was still simmering. He laid down in the tub and thought through every mistake he's ever made, as far back as he could remember. When he reviewed the day two weeks ago at Gerard's mansion, he analyzed what was going on; in fact everything that was going on since he met Gerard. He didn't like when Frank talked to Jamia; he was so excited to read to him; he always gives him a heart-warming smile, even if he just woke up.

    He was disappointed and angry when he found out that Frank was married.

    Frank snapped out of his thoughts and groggily climbed out of the bathtub. He checked the clock, which read 9:23 PM, and he unlocked the bathroom door, momentarily forgetting about Jamia. He paused and slowly opened the door to find Jamia curled up in a ball on the floor outside of the doorframe. He carefully stepped over her and pulled a blanket out of the closet. He kneeled down by Jamia, covered her with the blanket, and gave her a light kiss on her forehead.

    "I'll be right back."

   ----------

    Frank pranced up to the front steps of Way Manor, only to be greeted with an empty house. He walked inside, closing the door, of course, and managed to look about a majority of the house, not finding anyone except Esmerelda. Confused, he stepped into Gerard's library office and took a seat in the giant luxury chair. It wasn't very comfortable, he didn't understand what Gerard loved about it so much. He shut his eyes, just hoping to get a little rest until he started searching again; Way Manor is bigger than it looks, and it looks enormous. His fingers trailed the etching on the arms of the chair until he felt a crude etch, something that didn't seem to belong. He opened his eyes to see where his fingers were and found a word scratched into the wooden arm. He lifted his fingers to, surprisingly, see his own name; well, at least, the name that Gerard had given him.

    "Frances..."

    Frank ran his fingers over the scratch over and over again, hoping he could find some meaning in it, perhaps through osmosis. Breaking his thoughts, however, was a blood-curdling shriek resounding through the empty halls.

    "Gerard?" Frank immediately shot his head up in an attempt to find the mysterious mansion owner. Without hearing an answer, he decided to explore the extended corridors himself to see what was going on. He stood up quickly from the large chair, coming face to face with Esmerelda causing Frank to squeal uncontrollably.

    "Geez, you just like to freak me out don't you?"

    The spider remained still, just staring at Frank. He relaxed a bit while adding, "Great, now I'm talking to a spider..." He left the security of the warm study to be met with a cold chill in the hallway. A shiver ran up his spine, but he ventured down the hallway regardless. He realized he had never been in any part of this mansion besides the main Great Room and Gerard's study; he had no idea where he was going. As the hallway progressed, the more lost Frank became. There were doors after doors on either side of him, but he had no idea what they were. They could all be filled with that furniture you see in movies covered in white sheets. He didn't really want to prove himself right. That is, until he came upon a room that was spewing light from the bottom crack. It looked almost like a lamp light, but he knew how much Gerard hated electricity...

    "Gerard...?" Frank quietly persued, opening the door slightly.

    Instead of finding the dark-clothing clad man, a red hue penetrated his retinas. His eyes scanned the small room, inevitably landing on a mangled figure sprawled on the floor. It was covered in a deep red color, most likely blood, but Frank wasn't sure. He knelt down to the figure close enough to see that it was a female and was definitely covered in blood. He'd seen blood before, so that isn't what made Frank feel uneasy. It was the entire thought of, "Who or what did this?" because the only person here was Frank, and maybe Gerard, but he couldn't have done this.

   Could he?

----------

    "Where in the world are you, Frances?"

    Gerard stood outside Frank's front door, constantly ringing the doorbell. He gave up for a moment, resting his body weight on the cane he seemed to always carry around when he was out. He started to impatiently tap his foot along to a boroque piece that seemed to inflate his eardrums. He stopped abruptly when he heard footsteps approaching the door. He regained his posture and doubtfully glanced at the door; the footsteps were lighter than Frank's own.

    "Who the hell-- Oh...are...are you Master Way?" Jamia asked, groggily rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

    "Ah, you must be the woman in Frances' life. I presume he's mentioned me at least once, considering your first guess was correct."

    "Uh...yeah, he's...he's mentioned you a few times. Do you wanna come in, or...?"

    "I'm actually looking to speak with Frances. Would you happen to know where he is?"

    Jamia rubbed her eyes again and let out a sigh she had been holding in.

    "I haven't seen him since eight. I thought maybe he had gone to see you."

    A strike of panic suddenly flashed in Gerard's eyes as his cane slipped from his grasp and hit the stone pathway. He slowly started to shake his head and mouth "No" over and over again, picking up his cane and flawlessly sprinting to his hearse and starting the engine.

    "Wait!", Jamia yelled over the lulled engine, running over to Gerard's window. "What's going on?!"

    "Your husband is in a bit of a dilemma, but don't you worry, I'll bring him home safe."

    He sped off, nearly running over Jamia's bare feet. She ran back inside, still partly watching where Gerard was driving off to. She shook her head and walked back into the house, still not fully understanding what was going on. Gerard, on the other hand, knew more than he cared to tell. He rushed into his intruded abode and followed the stench of bodily fluid seeping into the carpet.

    "Frances?"

    Frank had been sitting on the floor next to the mutilated woman and whipped his gaze to Gerard when he heard his name.

    "Frances, w-what are you doing in my manor unoccompanied?" Gerard squeaked. This was the first time Frank had seen Gerard look uneasy in his presence.

    Frank should have been screaming bloody murder at the fact that Gerard wasn't phased by the body, meaning he knew it was there. But he had drained all of the shock out of his system in the past ten minutes.

    "Why is the body of Mary Haulie decomposing on your floor?"