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Episode summary:
"A
mysterious large crate is delivered to the lighthouse for Alexandra and when
opened, reveals a stunning Edwardian Doll's House complete with ornate gardens
and stables. But the little dolls it contains are something else; it's Temporal
Team 74 minus Alexandra herself! But what's in the dining room sends a shiver
up Alexandra's back; it's a coffin laid on a table. Who has sent the doll’s
house and more importantly; why?"
Alcohol – Strong language – Violence[including paranormal and supernatural] – Some sexual references – Demonic references & Strong horror – Supernatural happenings.
Author’s notes about this episode:
[1]
This episode is set entirely at the Lighthouse so it has no Human time
references!
[2]
The original Title for this episode was: ‘A MINIATURE HELL.’
[3]
A ‘Temporal Detectives’ original story.
[4] The photograph of the Doll's House was found in the Public Domain - it was being sold on a site! - with NO copyright details or ownership. If you know anything about this please contact the author via his website: https://stephenjohnwilliams.blogspot.com
[5]
There is NO Alexandra version
available.
Episode details:
Concept
date: 1st August, 2020
First
published: 28th February 2021
Status: COMPLETED & PUBLISHED.
Location: BOOK SERIES 4 – EPISODE 6.
Revisions: 6 [Last revised
January 2021]
Version:
Final.
Published Episode No. 041
Previous
episode: “David Glover falls in love a
century too late.”
Next
episode: “Youngblood and the Buffalo
soldiers.”
Age
recommendation: 15+
Average
reading time: Approx. 30 Minutes.
Angel-in-charge: Margret
Team
Assigned: Team 74
Human
Time: 0000AD-0000AH
Mission: 4
- 228630 - 8 – 0000
Episode preview:
Mr. Harris rubbed his chin
and stared at the crate, then took the clipboard from old Oliver, the Supplies
delivery man and signed for it. Oliver chuckled and wiped his face with a
shabby hankie; “Don’t often deliver personal stuff to temporal offices.
Normally, it’s just bloody shopping or new furniture and such. Whoever sent it
must have pulled a few strings. Is it her birthday or something?” He asked and
gestured to his burly assistants to go. He tipped his hat and the three lads
from the Supplies Department vanished.
Mr. Harris pulled off the plastic envelope, attached to a side of the crate and saw it was addressed to ‘Lady Alexandra Cappanni’. He grunted and made his way back into the lighthouse and then the study. Everyone looked up from their books or chess and Mr. Harris held up the envelope; “It’s for you my lady, all the paperwork says; it’s from an admirer.” Owen chuckled; "Well, that narrows it down to only several thousand poor saps."
“That an extract from a famous poem, but what the hell does it mean and what’s
in the bloody big crate?” Owen muttered and stared out the window at the large
grey box standing on the gravel. Alex shrugged her shoulders and walked to the
door; “Come on boy’s, let’s open the damn thing and find out.” Jericho rose
slowly from his chair and smiled a little, pulling his mirror from his pocket
and followed Alex and Owen out into the sunshine. “We’ll run an orb and my
mirror over it first,” He told them, as Wilson appeared at the foot of the stairs,
clutching his paperback novel.
“Who would send our Alex, a present in a huge bloody crate?” He asked and
followed the others out. They all stood around the crate and Jericho held up
his orb. Nothing appeared on its circumference. “Well, no nasty demons are
going to pop out.” He replaced his orb and operated his mirror and chuckled,
adding;” What the hell, it’s a bloody old Edwardian Doll’s house!” Alex
actually slapped her hands together; a little excited; “Do you know, I always
wanted a Doll’s House, but never did get one for Christmas or a birthday. Then
I was suddenly too old to play with one.”
“Well, you have one now apparently.” An amused Wilson tapped the crate and
spoke to Mr. Harris; “How do we open it, without bloody crowbars?” Mr. Harris
sighed; “There are various tools in the old boathouse Mr. Wilson. I’m sure they
can be of assistance. But once opened; where will we place such an object? It
won’t fit through the lighthouse doors.” Everyone agreed with that; where the
hell were they going to put the damn thing? Jericho gestured to the old
boathouse; “Open the double doors and we can slide it in. It should fit, next
to the old lifeboat and we can open the damn thing under cover.”
That was the agreed plan, and it took some minutes to manhandle the crate into
the gloomy interior of the old boathouse. Wilson and Owen set about opening the
box; very carefully as Alex, now quite excited, repeatedly told the pair to be
careful and gentle. She didn’t want it damaged and really couldn’t wait to see
her unexpected present. Finally, the lid and sides were removed from the crate
and the packing plastic pulled out. Everyone stood back and simply stared. It
was magnificent, a scale model of a Victorian or Edwardian Villa, complete with
rear gardens and stable block.
There was a little silence and Alex brushed a couple of tears away. Owen patted
her shoulder; “We all can now, play with a little house. I wonder if there’s
any wonderful doll’s inside. It’s what four grownups always really wanted.”
Alex noted the sarcasm in his voice and just ignored him. “I think it’s
absolutely beautiful.” She whispered, there was something wonderfully familiar
about the house.
“Well, it’s not a bloody bomb or the mirror would have picked that up. What the
hell ticks in a Doll’s House?” Owen asked and Alex sighed; “Let’s get the front
off and you’ll see.” Very carefully Alex and Wilson removed the façade and the
little group stepped back. If the exterior was magnificent; the interior was
incredible. The place was divided into rooms, passageways, stairs and halls.
There were kitchens and even a dining room. In the main hallway, stood a
grandfather clock and it was ticking.
Owen rubbed his chin; “It’s like it’s counting down. I wonder what happens when
it reaches midnight.” Alex didn’t answer; she carefully lifted the five little
dolls that had been placed in the hallway and held them in the palms of her
hands. Now, they really did cause the team to stand in silence. “Sweet fucking
Jesus.” Was all Owen said and Wilson agreed with him. Three of the dolls were
absolute miniature copies of Jericho, Wilson and Owen! The other two were of a
clown and a devil, complete with horns, tail and pitchfork. Alex carefully laid
the strange little dolls back in the hallway and stood back; a shiver ran up
her spine and she folded her arms. “If you three are there, where am I?” She
asked softly and re-gripped Wilson’s hand.
Owen pointed into the Dining Room, complete with a magnificent table, laden
down with food, plates and silverware. But that’s not, what he was gesturing
towards. In front of the grand and ornate fireplace was another table; but
this had a small piano black coffin laid upon it. On the top of the coffin was
a set of miniature keys. Three keys on a silver circle shaped like a snake.
Jericho knew that the circle and snake were symbols of followers, of the Dark
Prince; the devil himself. “So, who the fuck is in the coffin?” Owen asked and
wiped his face. The happy little event [for Alex] had turned quite sour and
troubling. Who could have sent such a gift? And more importantly; why?
Wilson leaned forward and peered into the little house; “There’s another two
dolls in the kitchens, anyone we know?” He asked softly and Owen shook his
head; “No, it’s not Ruth and Mrs. Harris. It’s a bloody French maid doll and
some middle-aged woman. I don’t recognise either.” Jericho grunted; he was
working his mirror and he sighed; “According to Human records, our dolls are
exact copies of us. The devil doll comes back as unknown, and the clown is...”
He sighed; “The clown is a representation of Alex’s husband; Henri, Count of
Cappanni. The young maid is someone called Charlotte Larkin’s and the older
woman is Margaret Fennell. Both unknown to us, I think.” Owen sighed; I’ll
check the pair out.” He pulled out his mirror and didn’t smile.
“Alex, you should know Miss Charlotte Larkin’s; she was a maid in your father’s
house who died in 1901 and the old woman Margaret was...” Alex interrupted him,
grim faced; “Margaret was sacked from my father’s house in 1901, she was
apparently stealing. She couldn’t get another position and turned to
prostitution to survive. She always said that she was innocent of the thefts,
but my father didn’t believe her. She hung herself in 1903.” Now there was a
real silence and atmosphere in the old boathouse.
“Let’s lock up the boathouse and make some enquiries with Supplies; they should
know who had the damn thing sent.” Jericho told the group, who were a little
shocked. Alex nodded her agreement with that and with Wilson’s help, replaced
the façade and Jericho locked the double doors of the old boathouse. They
walked back to the lighthouse in silence. The dinner conversation that night
was quite subdued; Alex ate very little but knocked the brandies back, If
someone wanted to really upset her, they had certainly succeeded.
After dinner, the team played some poker [at Wilson’s insistence] instead of
bridge and retired at about half past eleven. They were on a mission tomorrow;
jumping back to Moscow in the early 1800’s. Mr. Harris, locking the big front
doors of the lighthouse, glanced across to the old boathouse and stopped
suddenly; just for a moment, he thought he could see little lights flickering
inside. He looked again and the place was in shadows and darkness, with a
slight sea mist shrouding the building and grounds of the island. He finished
locking the doors and also retired to bed.
Alex turned and groaned in her sleep; dark dreams clouded her usually peaceful
slumbers and she slipped into a nightmare. She was standing outside the doll’s
house, umbrella up and dressed in the black of mourning. She now recognised the
strange house; it was her father’s house in Piccadilly, London in 1901. The old
Queen [Victoria] had died and the Empire was in mourning too. Her brother
Charles and their father Richard were standing on the steps, waiting to go
inside. They said nothing to her, and Alex realised that her sister Elizabeth
was missing from the family group. She suddenly panicked and ran into the
house. She made for the dining room and stood in the doorway. There was a dark
coffin laid upon the serving table, in front of the fireplace. The casket's lid
was open, and Alex slowly walked up and looked inside.
End of Preview.
IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER
“All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some well-known historical figures, are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.”
CAUTION:
“SOME OF THESE EPISODES CONTAIN VERY STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, HORROR AND SEXUAL REFERENCES. Some are RECOMMENDED suitable for persons aged 15+ years only.”
THE AUTHOR.