The Door On The Thirteenth Floor

By Jaysen True Blood

Daniel Marlowe had never intended a town to grow around his unique mansion, but it did. The mansion was a representation of Pandora's Box (the room at the very top), the cross between Olympus and the Elysian Fields on twelve floors, and Tartarus below. It was intended to be a paradise for his bride-to-be. Together, they would rule the manse as both Zeus and Hera and Hades and Persephone.

In that room on the thirteenth floor, he placed a demon to protect the manse from all who would do its inhabitants harm. A demon to protect paradise from its own kind. A demon composed of all that was evil within himsef.

But happiness was not meant to be and one person's evil set into motion the fate of both manse and town...and all who come into the presence of both.  The Door On The Thirteenth Floor is a tale twenty years in the making and covers over 100 years. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jaysen True Blood
• Release date: Oct 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393266969

Jaysen True Blood

Jaysen True Blood was born and raised in the Midwest where he currently resides. His first taste of writing came early in grade school with a class assignment. a few years later, his love for writing would return as he found himself with another class assignment, this time a poetry unit. through junior high, he would write a series of novels, many poems, and begin his long interest in writing song lyrics as well. In high school, he would learn the value of tall tales, myths and other kinds of stories as he continued to build his store of stories. upon graduation, he went for a semester at a university, where he would write two stories, one of which would become a serial online for about six months. Returning home, he worked at just about anything he could find, but never strayed far from his love of the story. After his first marriage, he signed on with Keep It Coming, an e-zine, where he wrote two serials, "Tales From The Renge" and "Breed's Command" (the same characters appear with Fancy Marsh in several subsequent westerns. The serial was taken from a manuscript written for a class assignment while in high school). H also wrote writing and music related articles for the print version of KIC that came out for just three issues. When KIC went under, Jay was once again forced to work at different jobs just to make ends meet. between 2007 and 2010, Jay would release "Seven By Jay: Seven Short Stories", "The Price Of Lust: Book One Of Faces In The Crowd" and "So Here's To Twilight And Other Poems".

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Prelude

1.  Daniel Marlowe

The Marlowes were old blood. Old aristocracy. Their family tree dated back to the original colonies as did their wealth. As one of the premier families in Boston, they held court at the Marlowe Estates and could be seen at nearly every social event.

A well liked family, they seemed quite ordinary, yet aloof. It was rumored that the founder of the American branch of the family had been one of the crown’s governors and had been bequeathed their vast estate by the king or queen as a reward for being so competent -or was that compliant?- in carrying out the crown’s wishes.

Their wealth had been old country wealth but they had added to it over the century or so that the family had existed on American soil. Damon Marlowe, the patriarch, had fought in the Revolution as a boy alongside his seven brothers and had fought under Washington...hence the names of Daniel’s two older brothers, George and Washington. His sister owed her name to Washington’s wife, Martha. Daniel, on the other hand, owed his name to his father’s friend, Daniel Webster.

Daniel Marlowe was the youngest of four children, his father having vowed never to have more due to the loss of all six of his brothers during the Revolution. Now at the age of twenty, he was an imposing figure and handsome. His kind disposition belied a deep darkness that resided within, a darkness that he was able to contain—though just barely.

His tousled black hair, though seemingly unkempt, began the day as well combed though he had a nervous habit of running his hands through it  and messing it. His green eyes captivated most hearts and seemingly pierced the person upon whom their gaze seemingly fell. Clean shaven, his square set jaw and thin features made for a grand and aristocratic visage that made some believe that he was a visiting prince rather than the youngest son of an old family.

An air of awkwardness and uncertainty hid behind a determined and quiet mask. His placid, yet gracious, character hid his ineffectuality well. But to his father, it was a known fact that he would never really amount to anything. And that was fine. After all, the two eldest had already taken over the family business and Martha had already married well. Daniel was, well, a sort of afterthought for his parents. He had really not been a planned child, but he had happened. A happy accident.

Not that their view of him mattered to the boy. He had no interest in the family business. Or what others thought of him.

He only wanted to be the first in the family to go west. After all, there were too many Marlowes in the east. Why not have one go west? And so, he was determined to leave the world he had known behind for a world that he wanted.

And so, with his inheritance, he went west to a small settlement. There, he bought the highest hill and began building his house. In his mind, it would be the grandest estate ever built.

Hiring the best builders in the east, and all that would be needed to build his castle, he took them west to begin the work. But he divided his time between the east and his new property. Coming and going, supervising and advising, and approving or disapproving each step of the building.

While in New England, he filled his time going to social events and parties of all kinds. And though he detested the pomp and circumstance of society, he had been raised to observe it religiously. After all, having wealth and privilege came with certain responsibilities. And responsibilities had to be met.

But Daniel was always though to be a bit eccentric. Odd. Off. Strangely arranged.

His interests lay in the occult and spirituality. Upon both subjects, he was well read and well educated. He had no use for priests or ministers. Or their form of religion.

At one time, he had thought of becoming a priest or a minister, but had become disillusioned with Christianity when he discovered that they really didn’t worship Christ in their actions. Or even God. With losing his religion, he decided to find other pursuits and turned his back on all religion.

He delved into magic. Dark magic. White magic. Earth magic. Whatever magic he could study.

The darkest recesses of his family home had become his secret place. The catacombs. No one went there. Most of the family claimed it was haunted.

For this purpose, he designed his new home to have a secret catacombs hidden beneath his study. A place that none would know of. One that only he could find his way through if someone did happen to stray into his private sanctuary. He would build his own laboratory after the manse was complete. That way, none would know of its existence. Here, he would hide his wealth. Away from prying eyes. Behind his magic tomes. Behind his volumes of ancient wisdom.

And upon its door would be placed a golden lock that would have a golden key. The key would be on the underside of the false flagstone that would be the door to the labyrinth.  No one would ever suspect. No one would ever know.

Of course, he would also build a secret room off the wine cellar as well. And secret tunnels leading to a safehouse some distance away that would be a part of his whiskey brewery. This would have a completely different use. One more noble than his dark pursuit.

After all, he was also an abolitionist. He despised the act of slavery. The concept of placing men in bondage and forcing them to work was abhorrent to him. He could not understand why so many tried to justify such evils.

His brewery would keep his wealth growing. It would keep his future wife, whoever she would be, comfortable.  It would even make the community growing up around it famous. After all, he wished to be the community’s benefactor.

2. The House

THE CONSTRUCTION CREW, as well as the townsfolk, found the new manor a bit...strange...to say the least. It was the first house to be built with a basement, complete with an underground labyrinth hidden behind the wine cellar. This was lined with bricks and mortar, and capped with a marble floor above, held up by vaulted ceilings. The labyrinth was lit by gas lamps, as was the wine cellar. But the two were not connected. Instead, there was a singular entrance to the labyrinth, a false floor that was a hidden door. This was hidden in a study and was supplied with a heavy lock.

There were twelve main floors. Each floor had twelve rooms. The eleven top floors were bedrooms, each more ornate than the rest. The ground floor contained the living and entertaining spaces. The parlor. The kitchen. His library and den. The family room. The pantry. A sunroom. And at least three different ballrooms.

But there was a single room in the tower above it all. The thirteenth floor. In this room, once the manse was completely finished, Daniel placed all his malice. All his hate. All his darkness. And once he had done so, he sealed the room shut so that none of it could seep out.

He carried the key on a necklace, hidden beneath his shirt, with him everywhere he went. None knew of its existence, or that of the room.

Once he had paid the construction crews and sent them away, he began his own projects under the house. In 1826, the main manse was finished. By 1830, a vast network of tunnels ran from the room that sat off the wine cellar beneath the small town that now surrounded it and beyond to the whiskey distillery and beer brewery. Here, these tunnels emerged in a warehouse that would always be kept full of empty barrels. Barrels that would never be filled. Never be used.

These tunnels would hide runaway slaves. And since no one knew of the hidden room, no one would suspect. It was perfect.

Daniel was 26 when the house was finally complete, tunnels, hidden rooms, and all. He was 26 when he locked away all his darkness, all of his evil, within the room on the thirteenth floor. And upon sealing it shut, he vowed never to reopen the room.

Once the door was sealed shut, people began reporting seeing a dark presence seemingly staring out of the single sealed window. Dark. Evil. Indescribable.

Yet, the rest of the house seemed cheery and inviting as if filled with love and care. Inside, wonders from around the world met all. Statues of carrera  marble. Floors of exquisite white marble. Polished and seemingly translucent. Opulent furniture, handcrafted to Daniel’s specifications. Paintings of family adorned the walls.

It was almost as if the house had been built as a wedding present. But for whom? And why had no one seen her?

None knew that Daniel had not yet found love. There was no missus. At least, not at first.

He was alone only because he had been building a future before seeking a family. The Marlowe Brewery for Fine Spirits was being built on the other end of the town and had been under construction for as long as the manse had. Now, with the house finished, the brewery also saw the end of its construction.

By the end of construction, the brewery saw the beginning of production of liquor. Each warehouse was designated for a separate liquor. All wine in one. Whiskey in another. Beers and ales in another. Except the warehouse on the end, which housed empty casks and barrels. Replacements for any that might break. The perfect cover for a stop in the underground railroad.

What the less observant didn’t realize was that the casks and barrels were used to smuggle runaway slaves to the Canadian border under a load of whiskey or some other spirit. Wagon after wagon of liquor was taken north from the brewery, slaves in some of the bottom casks and barrels. It really was an intricate arrangement. Ingenious.

From 1830 on, hundreds of slaves, maybe thousands, had been ferried across the border by the brewery. And in 1830, Daniel would come with his bride and take up residence in the mansion on the hill. The mansion with thirteen floors.

Holly, though not the woman he had married, would never know of the illicit activity going on in the back portion of the manse. It would never occur to her to even explore the house. Or the grounds. At least no further than the door on the thirteenth floor...where she believed Daniel hid his vault.

She would always wonder why he’d placed it so high in the house. The climb was so tiring. And though she never saw him climb to that room, she was sure he took large bags of gold, silver, as well as money up there to hide. Why else would he keep the door locked?

Like Pandora’s box, the door was irresistible. It lured her into its presence. It was a heavy iron door, the kind she imagined would hide a vast vault. And he kept it locked and sealed.

And to have a lock, there had to be a key. As she knew nothing of where his library or office was, she assumed that he would keep the key with him. On his person.

She knew nothing of the activity taking place under her feet. Not in the tunnels leading to the brewery, nor in the vast labyrinth beneath the other end of the manse. After all, she knew nothing of the man she had chosen as her mark. She only desired his wealth. What he had inherited. What he had earned.

And so, his vault’s true location would never be discovered by her. Nor by those who would help her in her crimes. Or by anyone in his or her family.

None of the manse’s secrets would be discovered until renovations began a hundred years later. And then, the mystery of the door on the thirteenth floor would remain as the key would be lost and all attempts to remove the door would prove futile.

Beyond the house, the gardens were immaculately maintained by an extremely loyal gardener. The great hedges would be trimmed into a beautiful maze, the flowers kept weeded and trimmed, and the fountains kept cleaned of all debris. All added to the external beauty of the estate and made it both pleasing to the locals and inviting for all. So lovingly kept. So wondrously designed.

Even the house, though eccentric in design, was a pleasing and inviting place. Welcoming all to the embrace as if to protect, the great wrought iron gates opened wide at the center of a great pink granite wall lined with trimmed shrubbery that made one feel as if they had stepped into a fantasy. A grand fountain stood at the center of the carriage entrance as a lone sentry, covering a natural spring and focused the stream so that it rose above the column and top basin, then flowed over the lip into the bottom basin...a beautifully carve wish fountain.

Cherubs capped the stone railing of the steps to the door that led to large, ornately carved wooden doors that reminded one of a cathedral that were adorned with large polished knockers. Guests were led to either the front ballroom or the front parlor, depending on time of day and whether there was to be a function or not. No one was allowed beyond the front kitchen, as there were-in truth-two houses in one...the back manse being a mirror of the front and a secret home within a home.

In the front, there were only six rooms accessible on each floor unless one knew where the secret passages were. The library and office Daniel kept up front was unassuming, his darker tomes hidden in his back library which was the only access to his hidden laboratory. The pocket door in his front office led into the labyrinth. The back ‘kitchen’ was where the door to the hidden passages leading to the brewery was. Here, his co-conspirators would let runaway slaves into the hidden room under the cover of darkness without raising suspicions. Some would even be allowed to hide in the six rooms on each floor, provided they remained both quiet and away from the windows.

The arrangement worked quite well. No one could ever enter the front and search for hidden slaves successfully...and no one could ever figure out how to get into the back to discover those who hid there as the entrance used was never the main exit into the garden...and the manse had the illusory appearance of having only six rooms per floor. From either side.

3. Holly Landscoft

Every family seems cursed with at least one child that is pure evil. The Landscroft family was no different. They had seven daughters. Of those seven, only one was as evil as could be. That was Holly.

After much ado, the two eldest had finally been successful at fleeing the Landscroft manse, marrying less successful men in order to avoid their younger sister’s attention. They had moved as far from the ancestral home as possible just to get away from her. And it had been well that they had. For after marriage, they and their husbands had done well and risen higher in New England society.

Their flight was followed by the flight of the three who were younger than Holly. Millicent had been first, begging her parents to allow her to go to summer with an aunt in New York. She had been followed by Janie’s request to stay with a cousin, then Margot’s to go stay with an uncle.

All three would marry away from Holly’s prying eyes. They would all three marry well to do men from the cities they had gone to. And Holly would be left to prey upon poor Minnie, the youngest of the family.

Holly Landscroft was the third eldest of the Lanscroft daughters. Spoiled, self-centered, manipulative, and conniving, she hid it well under a congenial almost innocent shell. She was no virgin, having seduced nearly every man in Boston. And yet, she claimed to be a woman of virtue.

She had stolen her sisters’ suitors at every turn, causing a rift in the family. And now, well now she had her eye on Daniel Marlowe. His family was rich beyond her wildest dreams which meant that he, too, was rich. And rich was all she wanted. She didn’t want to marry for love. Or have a family.

Sure, she would have a dowery, and it would be money, but she wanted his money as well. She didn’t care what happened to him once she had what she wanted. Hell.