Sardoodledom: Eternal Finale Volume Three: SARDOODLEDOM, #3

By Laura Jean Lysander

 Uncensored, blue version, Split, divided Edition: The thrilling, tormenting conclusion to SARDOODLEDOM: The Broken Rule. This is the second split half of Darkened Promise,  Eternal Finale Volume Three; It was almost eight months later, after the harrowing, deadly, shocking incident that changed all of their lives in an instant; Resilient and brilliant, the young beauty Eir stumbles upon a fated cryptic message from the missing, abducted, enigmatic princely Imre. This leads to an unexpected trip for Eir and the now non-tyrant turned Templar Tony. Cagey, suave Tony knows much more about it than Eir or anyone else was aware of, and his now torrid feelings are running rampant; he has held it only to himself in obscurity until now, for soon it will all come spilling forth with another jarring, supernatural, mystic, arcane clue; to figure out just how and when to find and rescue the abducted and valiant ransomed Imre, who has secretly, courageously been praying they discover what aid and romantic pledges he has left for them before the terrible, tangled web of their veiled, clandestine family's secrets ensnares and destroys them all While Imre is discovering more and more hidden, horrid truths of their past, as well as newly founded ancestral members who seem to all be against him? Can they all free themselves from the dynamited danger and surmount the evils lurking within their family tree? Will Eir and Tony be able to find and emancipate the captive, calamitously cornered Imre? Read on and find out the calamitous conclusion... or is it honestly ever done?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lysander's Literaries
• Release date: Jul 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201442675

Book preview

By Laura Jean Lysander

Volume 3

Uncensored edition

Digital illustrative graphic editing cover art by Squire Lysander~

A Dark, Demented

Supernatural

Mystery Soap Operetta

Comedy Thriller...

In Short, A Modern Gothic

Noir Love Story...

Foreward

THIS TALE, Eternal Finale, is the third part of the Uncensored Blue rendition, a partition of the novel Series Sardoodledom. It is the split, divided last second half of Darkened Promise, uncut. When I re-edited it as usual it went ornery and even more verbose.  May I suggest you read the first part, The Broken Rule, Part One: and Darkened Promise, Fury’s Truth Volume Two, and just be aware that this snarky, verbose, overdone nefariously torrid sequel is a tad more sinister, deranged, diabolically darker and adverse than the former half; regard that before delving into it and possibly please read the first half if you wish, for you would be missing out on many of the key former elements of its incredulously ridiculous, overdone, melodramatic plot line and character’s back story if you skip it; Not to say this demented half cannot stand up on its own, I think it can if you enjoy the story, this, ah, type of thing...? yet it was specifically written as a continuation to the previous split storyline part, and because it just could not fit all of its overly exaggerated and profuse elaboration of notoriously dramatic overdone personal familial human horror into one book. I cut the project in half and published it this way for it just became too long and winded.

This now renamed third partition half of Sardoodledom (which is this one) also involves older mature characters, subject matter, and even more awful, disturbing flashback situations that may not be suitable for younger teen readers. I strongly advise and recommend the reader to be at least within the third year of high school or coming of age presently; it is not for the virtuously conservatively moralistically strict of heart to read (they may condemn it and be eternally offended or considered damned) (Notice I did not say religious or spiritual, that matters not) nor those who shy away from the dark misfortunes of life, so please heed the I told you so" warning if you feel it may be too much to deal with, for even I found it unnerving while attempting to complete it and agitated me, not at all my favorite exercise to do.

Maybe I’m just too sensitive? Is that it? There are also as mentioned more mature characters, adults adulting in many significantly wrong, non-politically correct ways, and the plot takes you off and out totally from the high school setting within the previous prequel quite quickly to a more adventurous, unknown overseas scenario, though not devoid of any of the flavor of the first half; so if you just wanted more (and worse of) of what you had read in the first part it is here, served up hot on a platter; you just need to know it isn’t dealing with day to day teenaged school scenario relationship or classrooms at all used in the first part The Broken Rule, it moves out of that quickly as stated it introduces new, previously mentioned and shortly seen older and not so older characters to love and hate, elevating the soap operatic theme.

It flashes and regresses into some of the reprehensible, censurable, dark, utterly offensive, hurtful traumatic past events of the main characters, so you get a better idea and backlog of why they are who they have evolved into, and why they have behaved that way. Some of this (most flashbacks) may disturb some, but frankly, it disturbed me greatly even to create, delve into, and write it, and for me, it was really hard to continue, I hesitated to do it, and even did not go full force with the scenarios, and debated should I honestly include these scenes, even if they were in snippets mentioned as part of the story in the first half as clues to the backstory just briefly and fleeting? Should I go so far as to elaborate and write them out? Is it censurable? It to me was, yet I resolved to continue. I still am unsure if that was wise to do, I honestly did keep getting up from my laptop to walk away, disturbed each time I edited and updated the versions and editions as if it upset me morally to forego it (as I thought it would anyone; it did not give me pleasure but experience) and were the most unenjoyable detestable scenes to create, but I did to challenge myself, and to finish and complete the story, for it was there, that hidden part of pre-storyline clandestinely hidden and hinted at, just not ever fully explained, blanks were there,  secreted off, and many who if they do read this in scrutiny would question the back story and why it was left out. I guess this explanation may quench that question. Maybe I am an author wimp, who knows? I myself am not even sure why except...

With that explained, with my pleasure and thanks for your interest, this is a tale of fiction and in no way taken from any real-life factual occurrences or individuals; please pass no judgment upon it, for it will (at least I know) was done on my side to humanely help those who have gone through such tragic, unspoken situations in life to have others understand where they are coming from, to place oneself within their shoes, their perspective, and have compassion and respect for them and their bravery. That to me is the saving grace of the reason, and to help heal those as we altruistically should who have been there.

The foretelling of the action also switches back and forth from all of the perspectives of the three main characters. In short, three-first person views, and one-third-person perspective, so you can understand where they all individually are coming from when possible, for those who may have a favorite character can now get much more of an idea of what makes them feel and tick. This is not usually the case in a novel, but I pushed myself as a writer to get into the characters deeply and form them in strength, an exercise for me, also as a former actress to accentuate their individual traits, and a treat for the readers who wished to see this in each of their point of view when possible.

The ending? Well, I’m not too sure if... there really is one, and I am even toying with the idea of another nefarious part to this If I could, for there are some clues written in this second half regarding more of the ancestral past of the character’s family. I might be able to go forward with that idea if I ever have time or whimsy and do not finally tear my hair out over this and finally can stop updating it, or more inspiration, or finally get these two parts to the point where they are to me done...and after this edition, I think (not really) they will be, but then again, this is a soap operetta...hence it is infinite and sempiternal...

AND SO...We continue where we had left off...

CHAPTER 7

WHEN SORROWS COME, THEY COME NOT  SINGLE SPIES, BUT IN BATTALIONS~

CLAUDIUS, HAMLET, ACT IV SCENE V

SHAKESPEARE~

THE NEXT MID-MORN, I sat sitting at the small table in the mock set up dining area, within a cranny of a turn at the bottom of the stairwell in the Schloss Mansion Villa manor, where they would serve me my meals now. It was the mid-morning after, about eleven am, close to noon, after that epic, gross, unmentionable shakeup night. I had fallen asleep, into a drugged dead log position, and stayed that way until an hour ago in a dead stupor atop that princely bed without incident, finally out of the groggy, induced toxic haze and took a tepid, almost cold shower to help me wake up. I was positioned next to the large, ornate marble fireplace. Antique German vases filled with fresh, blooming roses from the Solarium greenhouse garden set on the table and fireplace mantle were filling the air with wafting, heady, perfumed sweetness, giving a falsified sense of serenity, such heavenly scented aroma that I couldn’t begin now to acknowledge, touch, or feel, not now. Maybe never;

Sitting mutely at that card table alone, my nerves vibrating on raw edge...no; I was not alone.

Those bruisers, the guards were stationed a bit away from me, were noisily chewing on some fatty bacon, smacking their lips and burping loudly on purpose, eyes boring into me, wearing their loaded pistols outwardly so I could see them, make sure I knew they had them.

I ignored the grey, moving energy blobs above their heads like rumbling storm clouds, my hands turning to tightened fists, wishing to clonk them. Instead, I grasped at the fancy silverware utensils, for I knew they’d never tell me where Edelweiss was holed up and hidden.

Slowly I picked up a fork full of fluffy buckwheat that I was eating, chewed it and swallowed, then softly coughed. Everything tasted like cardboard and made me ill, retch. I suffered a face and then pushed the upscale vintage, flowery detailed German porcelain eating bowl etched with gold away from me, then placed the utensil down, feeling sickened. The utensil and porcelain set must have been hundreds of years old but still in immaculate condition. Should I upend it, and accidentally smash it to the floor to start a scene? Would that even do justice to the colossal injustice? My divergent mind pondered it...

Movement; there was movement from around the corner, near the piano. I let out a breath.

Thank goodness...I finally caught sight of sister Edel. She was slowly walking into the eating area. I watched her silently as she approached the table while I eyed her, after just appearing, coming from out of nowhere, thin air, no idea what room or passage since I had my gaze shifted downward. She slowly sat right down on the opposite side of the card table from me, as if dazed, a spelled zombie, behaving even worse than...me.

Why was she-? She was still in her bathrobe and nightclothes, from the night before? She seemed as if in hazed stupor-shock, drained in pallor. Had she been sedated too? Had she been so upset or distressed that she hadn’t even showered or changed yet? From what I perceived her soul and mannerisms to be she wasn’t the sort. There appeared to be red, angry marks, bruises etched on her neck as if partaken in violence, a struggle, and scratches on her fingers, and wrists...?

I shuddered. The fire and brazen glints in her eyes were gone. The golden vibrant ethereal sparkles about her had vanished, as did the healthy pink aura haze. Now, there were just dirt yellow, and reddish energy streaks akin to raised welts... bleeding scratches.

I stood nervously.

"Fräulein Edelweiss, Bitte-something’s amiss. Forgive me for asking- what is it? Are you all right? I couldn’t search to find you, the guards, they never leave...what has happened?" I barely whispered deeply, shivering, leaning over the card table towards her. I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing even if I told her to ignore me; I couldn’t for... she seemed as if she had been physically attacked...

Edelweiss mutely glanced towards me, again like a zombie, graced a terrible, awful, tormented face, shook her head, grimaced, blinked as if in slow motion, and then would not look at me,  totally avoiding my gaze, ignoring me as I said she should.

She started to weep quietly, just sitting statue-like, motionless. I flew over, and knelt at her side to console her, blocking her frame from the guard’s view. I shot an over-the-shoulder angsty look at the guards standing near the fireplace, feeling my blood run hot...

"Can’t you just leave us for even one single moment? I steamed and piped to them in a high whisper. Have you no care, or a single drop of decency?"

The guards merely glanced at each other, rolling their cold steely eyes, then shot them back to me, sniggered, and strolled just a tiny tad bit away towards the kitchenette door near the bottom of the stairwell, where a cooking cranny was behind a door, scoffing.

It was most likely for the servants or for them to fix my meals, and just stood over there, shrugging, not caring, just organic robots, only half turning their backs, muttering, scoffing. It was insultingly awful, not allowing any personal space or privacy. I with care wandered my gaze over again to frozen Edel.

"Sister, Frau Edel, please, please say something; why are you–look at me, I softly whispered. Please, I beg you tell me what happened, what can I do? Stay here, with me, don’t leave, I pleaded to her. Don’t go anywhere now without me."

I took her hand within mine; it was cold and tensed, full of newly formed scratches, and I softly stroked it. Edelweiss snatched it away from me, stood up, and backed off, turned away, refusing to look at me.

"Entkommen; Get away-,"  she growled.

She snuck a look at the guards, ticked her head, then to me, hotly.

"Why? What have I done?" I quickly whispered.

"YOU,-have done nothing, nothing. Nicht- nicht, totally innocent," was her quick, short, barely audible reply.

Why will you not look to me? Why are you not dressed? I hoarsely asked, in confidence. "What can I do to-

"Leave me be, you need to leave me alone! Stay avay- Lass mich; Geh weg Verrückter junger Mann!" she again quickly whispered, ticking her head to the guards.

"How can I, no,-not when I see you are...what happened? Did-

"I said leave me alone! Geh weg! Lass mich!" She demanded, tilting her head again towards the guards, remembering what I had told her to do... not show emotion towards me, as if she hated me...to ignore and treat me as if I meant nothing...

She was still trying to go along with our former concocted plan, even when- I couldn’t help it, how could I ignore her now when-something had-she had been-

"Edel, please, no, Edel, forget it, what I and you formerly agreed to; why come here, come over to me if you want me to stay away? You can’t do this alone, it doesn’t matter now, they will-he-Please, forget it all, what I said before, we can’t do it, that plan, the way we had wished now; just stay here with me," I jumbled out to her, as low as I could, so very quiet and quick, so the guards wouldn’t perceive it.

Edelweiss just glanced at me, stone-faced, then away. She shot a glare at the guards, shook her head, as if she thought it still would work, our former plan, then bolted, ran over to the stairwell, and raced up the stairs, the ones I always would climb, and did it so fast she was already out of sight.

I knew, then, that...she too was a tortured prisoner interred here as well, that the guards would now continually follow her, and one did...up the stairs;

That those goons had moved whatever she had brought with her this weekend to the wing I was in somewhere I knew it, somewhere, could sense it, all of her belongings were now in the room she had picked to sleep in last night.

I turned and stood, attempted to follow, running with strides two stairs at a time up the stairway halfway and should have caught up to her and the following shadowing goon,-but this stinging, shooting, stabbing pain in my head surged as if I had been shot there, and I faltered at the elaborate black forest wood stair rail worthy to use in a Hammer Films Flicker, holding onto it, stumbling, collapsing down to my knees, trying to stay up, and I couldn’t.

I fell slowly to my buckled knees from the welted pain, the stabbing jolts, holding my head, moaning softly. It was coming again, another vision...most likely aggravated by the drugs last evening they had injected into me. Will they not ever cease? Will the visions encompass and overpower me forever? Edelweiss had figured out why they were so painful, and explained it wasn’t my borne trancing future-premonition gift causing the pain, it was some form of cerebral or brain damage from my former beatings. I shut my eyes tight from the searing agony of it, and I was forced to watch it play out; the vision erupted in front of me within my mind as if watching a 3-D movie, a live-action drama...

Lights were flashing, in and out, shadows and heat ebbing, flaring, flashing as if a roaring, raging fire was all about, sounds of popping heat, and crackling wood, flickering flames ... the smell of richly burning tapestries, of ancient rugs, carpets, and drapes being burnt, consumed.

It was The Mansion villa manor, parts of the Schloss were in hellish flames and afire, and at night. And Master Ulrich? I spotted Master Ulrich, who lay on the floor of the Mansion near an open, immense, antique roll-top desk; he was face down, unmoving. Something seemed to be sticking up, out from his back...and trickling out of his side... The sound of Edel’s voice breeching, calling, echoing, screaming my name was heard over the sweltering, heated flames...

...A huge portion of a charred wall, banister, stairwell, and ceiling gave way and crumbled, came crashing and tumbling all down in front of me, all around me surrounding me in walls of torrential flame...

Then it was gone, all in a flash, just leaving me in woozy incompetence. I slowly, carefully pulled myself back up to stand, legs almost giving out once more. Someday, it would all come true-they all have, and I could never stop them. It was ominous, blazing... they never go away.

I stood, and falteringly dragged myself down the stairs and over towards the grand piano, near the stained glass window doors of the Solarium rose garden greenhouse entrance, head still spinning, sitting down upon the bench to gain my bearing, and noticing the music propped up on the playing stand right in front of me. The guards that were still about curiously watched, yet did absolutely nothing.

It...the music upon the piano stand was my Symphony Di Eirloom, the music that I had been working on since my incarceration, also in my backpack whence carted over here. Incredibly, Cassie must have snatched that piece, too. I had wondered where it had wandered off to.

It had been missing for about a month. And a bit away, I noticed the antique roll-top desk...seen in that now-faded vision of the flaming future. I in my disadvantaged state then caught sight of Ulrich, who was slowly swaggering his way into the makeshift dining area, crossing past the eating table. He was egressing out of the kitchenette doorway with a guard right behind him carrying a half-full crystal wine goblet and a bottle of expensive-seeming wine.

The guard stopped, near the doorway, but Ulrich moved in closer towards me, actually behind and hovering, holding a sweet strudel to his lips and eating it. He reached over behind him as the guard handed him the wine goblet, and he also slurped down the wine noisily... and softly burped.

He looked down upon the music from over my shoulder. He was so close I could hear his teeth munching, moist lips smacking, smelt the sugary vanilla icing on the pastry, and the strong, pungent notes of the aromatic, expensive spiced wine. I fought back the nausea. I felt like flying up and choking the strudel out of his mouth...knocking the goblet from his hand but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference, and I didn’t even have that strength left due to my malady. So I sat there, stewing, ignoring him, calculating what he was about to do next, to use whatever I had left to combat him, and to regain my bearings.

Hmph-look at zat; It’s not bad, Marcus, not bad at all. You are vorking on a full Symphony already. I didn’t decide to attempt zat till I vas-let’s see...hmmm, twenty-five. Junge sohn you are just full of surprises. You aim quite outlandishly high, zat is challenging und audacious of you. I commend your relentless artistic determination.

He chuckled, chomping the strudel, sipping and slurping the pungent wine...

You realize your labeled step sister Cassie grabbed und stole zat vork from you too. Vell, you did give her permission, ja? She is terribly enamored vith you, since ze first time she caught sight of you, saying you vere her sleeping beauty," Ja? Haha; You know, you could have been her Liebhaberinnen, Illicit Lovers, had a hot time; she vould have fallen head over heels, did anything you wished... but ah...you play ze poor imprisoned Prinz, uphold zat incredible moral fiber und ahem... ‘celibate’ obstinate abstinent integrity your choice of course, although it still mystifies me WHY. It is very gut, nett, so ruefully romantic in nature. Oh...I see; zat vas a slip, did I mention something... I shouldn’t have? Zat romance... is no longer possible for you, so you fawn over und dream und write of it because you refuse it from anyone but your own verboten sibling; Get it through your head, Romance is nothing but a sorry lie, it is best to forget it."

He gulped up more of the wine...

"...I see...traurig, you are not feeling vell again. Trist trist; You should take better care of yourself. Ve only give you ze best hilfe here, ve can’t force you to eat or behave properly, as ve do almost everything else to hilfe you," He inclined, still chomping on the sticky strudel, and lapping, licking his fingers, scoffing sadly, handing the goblet back to his goonie servant guard. He must have caught sight of the tail end of my dizzy spell.

I turned about slightly to peer intensely up at him, quickly, once again trying to read his eyes. He lowered them effectively, unfortunate for me. I couldn’t glean anything.

"It also seems you have inherited more than just my  pristine looks und richly attuned voice." He snidely added, with another snarky scoff.

He was idly, flippantly making fiddle-faddle, goading me on with insidious cut-down unsettling talk to me, after what had honestly gone down last night. He was insane, certifiably. It burned me and I retorted.

"I pray that is all I have inherited, Sir," I softly whispered, at least being wise enough to hold back my questions to him about Edel, for I knew it would be in vain to ask him, breech the subject unless he mentioned it. He I know was just baiting me to ask him, taunting, berating me to do it, inciting a showdown and Father-son duel.

I wasn’t going to go there...not...yet.

I shakily stood and backed off, to walk up the staircase slowly, hoping I would make it up to the top this time without fainting or breaking my neck, and without another vision to create my already weakened state, so I could somehow finally find Edelweiss on my own, wherever he had stashed her. Those hulking guards followed.

Vhere are you going? Questioned Ulrich, so innocently and blandly. It made me want to- 

I turned, bristled at his voice, and stared at him intensely, even with a glint of true malice, the first time I had ever graced a look like that, allowed it to form, and inwardly felt it. I felt the festering hate. There was a frightening pause from me, and it was building up. I-frightened myself, my intentions, and my diverging thoughts...they were dark, growing darker, steaming, and I felt almost unable to check them.

And I remembered, remembered what Tony had told me, of him. That-I had a part of him with me, forever, and I knew then what he meant by it. It was his life, his blood, his spirit entwined with mine, and that part of him was starting to shield me, fortify, mingle with me, awaken to save me...

I despised myself for feeling it, for what I was thinking, but it was needed, the symbiotic occurrence to get me through it, to conquer my festering dark, desperate past and everything tied to it. The Tony within me had started raging forth to defend me from my own brokenness, because I knew I was not whole, I was not strong, as strong and fearless as Tony would have been, and as tough, and courageous, because of all the vile, barbarous conditioning of my abused past brainwashed within me; it had left me like a dying salmon in a shallow stream, spent after all its jumping up the waterfalls, suffocating. I could forgive this man who called himself my father, but I didn’t have to allow myself to be beaten, vanquished, and swallowed by him emotively. He did not have to win, conquer, and kill my soul. They... my family, my siblings, all of them, loved me, and would all want me to fight. Fight, crusade for whatever sanity I had left.

I slowly fingered the golden cross necklace upon my neck, then swallowed.

I cleared my throat the way he, Master Ulrich did, last night, to imitate him in voice and inclination sarcastically. If he thought I was a clone, some deranged defeated degenerate dolt, I’d give it to him and more, as much as I possibly could at this point.

"Where am I going, Erb-Graf? Ah, no, I meant Count...Count Dracula, I wryly punned, addressed him purposely and with high a sarcasm I never used, Oh, excuse, bitte, can’t help myself, I’m barmy on the crumpet you see; I’m now wonky nutters,  can’t stop myself; pardons for the flub flimsy mistake, you must forgive me, such a gracious, grand-arsed host you are to me I should be grateful that you were to just open your moldy, flying-rodent infested Castle, possibly Willard, Ben, and Socrates without their wings are all gathering their minions to rise up with me in rat-batallion mode soon for retribution, and they know you allow me to fester all drugged up here incarcerated and held against my will, but...how odd, I just can’t seem to find any mirrors or crosses around, or... garlic; rather scarce about, except for the mirror only in my prison latrine. I’m sure the Ebony black forest wood coffin you sleep in though is lined in black satin, eh? Plenty of fresh German dirt under the cushions. I didn’t get a coffin. At least...not yet. Haven’t awakened with any wounds, but my blood does seem rancid and thin."

I graced a small minute scoff...

"... You must be hiding them, the mirrors and crosses? The garlic would help with seasoning such bland, unsavory meals now given, they all seem to taste like cardboard as of late; Count Himmel, mind the grease, I am egressing upstairs, to my corrosive chamber tower cell, most likely to finish that challenging, audaciously sap-happy sublime Romantic lie of a Symphony I’m creating since you say it’s so good; Since sister Cassie adores it...and as you’ve revealed Me too, I’ll just keep this ruefully romantic farce copy here and let her tinker with it, write her own version, and might as well re-write the whole of it. It’s already finished... in my head, I don’t honestly need to write it out. Photographic memory you know...or you don’t have that ‘gift’?

"...I do, and it seems I’ll have an enforced amount of time languishing here to do so and use it. If I feel like writing it out...in my rancid blood. You would enjoy that, might be able to munch on it? Make it, the symphony a snack? I might as well. I have the rest of my life, doch Master? Master of Everyone? Should I serve it to you in your worm-ridden black satin coffin full of native dirt? Seconds, Minutes, hours, days, months...call me down in oh, about ten years; it’ll be ready then. So will I. No worries since you are immortal and we have forever, ja? Where am I going, Count? I’m going anywhere that YOU aren’t," I said, concrete hard and rocky, snarky as if someone...Else had said it, as if Tony had said it, and not me...as if he was somehow symbiotically about and near to me;

I could have elaborated much more darkly with what my thoughts were mounting to and plainly should have attempted to upend him. Unfortunately, just the comedic and mild humor, gothic insinuative verbosity came bubbling, coursing through; I still,-still was not strong enough to even retort, garrison myself, go there all out in verbal angst. I couldn’t do it, with my enforced integrity of manners, not yet; This was at least a start.

The guards snickered at my snarky speech, and what I said, choked on their bacon, couldn’t hold it in, enjoying it, and then stopped, checking their manners in front of their egg-faced employer.   

Ulrich sighed loudly, with a sour, sardonic smirk, shaking his head.

"Vhy are you doing this, sohn Marcus? You are so ill now zat you cannot see reality? Do you like to see me writhe in pain and unbridled anger? Rot vor Wut? How must I say this to you to make it clear? You are my sohn; my only sohn. I lieb you and care for you. I vant to see you vell again, I’d never vant to hurt you,