The Adventures of Gideon Wilde

Chapter One

The Most Dangerous Game

 It was a glorious April Morning in throughout the grounds of Wilde Manor. Situated a few miles outside the town of Saphord, Wilde Manor had been home to the men of the Wilde family for generations. The house itself was magnificent Residence the looked as if someone had taken apart an old English castle brick by brick shipped the stone to America and then used the old masonry to construct a much more modernized version. This is due partly to its seamless blend of old and new architectural styles, but mainly because that is literally the exact way in which they built it.

Wilde Manor stood with regal majesty, towering over the primeval pines of the Denton Forrest. The Forrest stretched for miles in all directions and completely surrounded the manor. The “Grounds” of Wilde Manor are comprised only of the large circular drive in the front which lays at the end of the only route to or from the manor, (a long, narrow road that snakes through the Forrest until it joins up with a major high way) and an immaculately tended back lawn that sloped gently down from the House to the small lake that lay behind it.  Compared to the abodes of other shamefully wealthy people, Wilde Manor comes off as rather quaint. But within its simplicity, lies elegance, and on this particular morning:  unparalleled beauty

The crisp mid-morning sunlight of spring danced upon the lake. A million little diamonds twinkled and glistened on the water as a delicate breeze caressed the surface lovingly. All along the shore, high born emeralds rustled as their ancient bearers began to stir at the tender encouragement of the soft, warm, wind.  Bending and stretching slowly, still rousing from their season long slumber beneath the harsh northern snows. Their limbs dipped and swayed with rhythmic grace as gentle currents drifted past, taking the last stubborn remnants of winter’s stiffness with them as they went.  Dappled shadows fell upon lush carpets of winter grass and velvet skirts of moss as light filtered down through leafy windows high above, illuminating the woodland cathedral with a softly wavering half-light.  A reverent silence enveloped the verdant sanctuary. A peaceful quiet that remained unbroken by the piercing calls of birds or the inane chatter of squirrels. The only sound within the serene temple was the soft cacophony of a gentle, rustling hymn.  Chanted by a perennial choir, and carried aloft on the lazy zephyrs of this angelic morning, it pervaded the air with its ancient litany. It was a whispered aria that spoke of change and of things unyielding, an opera of the inevitably of death and the beauty of rebirth, a muttered ballad of the land’s undying spirit. Sighs of sadness intermingle with breathy laughter and convey emotions that man does not even have the capacity to comprehend. It is a quiet melody of such beauty that to hear it, is to hear the voice of the universe speak directly to you…to your very soul....Thus, It was by all accounts and descriptions, a rather exceptional morning.

And, it was on this morning of unparalleled beauty and spiritual transcendence, that Francis P. Higgins found himself on the second floor of the majestic Wilde Manor, sprinting down a dark corridor, while screaming, crying, and pissing himself simultaneously. 

  Higgins had begun that morning with the intention of handing in his resignation. He felt that six months as a butler under the employ of the houses current occupant was asking too much. Any lesser man would have resigned long before. And since Higgins was nothing if not a lesser man, he would be quitting after only his third month. But as Higgins looked out his window and beheld the ethereal beauty of the morning, he changed his mind. He found within himself a new sense of spirited determination. He resolved that he had a job to do and damnit, he was going to see it through. His new found courage would last him the five feet from the window to the bathroom where discovered his commode was gone.

Higgins exited his chambers with the letter of resignation he had prepared the night before clutched firmly in hand. He stalked down to the kitchen. However, instead of his employer he found only a large pot of freshly made coffee. Assuming the house’s master was already up and would be returning shortly, he poured himself a cup and plopped down at the table. The morning light that streamed in through the large bay window and the view of the grounds beyond did nothing to deter the pudgy little butler this time. He sat resolutely and drank his coffee. He went through one cup while he waited and resolutely poured himself another and continued his wait.  One hour and five more cups of coffee later, he resolutely decided that he needed to use the restroom. So, he waddled resolutely to the first floor bathroom, only to discover that it too, was missing its commode.

Trepidation prickled his spine as he closed the bathroom door. He shook it off with the thought that whatever was going on, it wasn’t his problem anymore. He set out for the guest bathroom, picking up the pace of his waddle at the protests of his very full bladder. He paused at the oak paneled door for a second before letting it creak slowly open. A small sigh of relief escaped him at the sight of the white porcelain toilet. He moved quickly to the commode, his hands fumbling with his trousers. He flipped up the lid and froze. The bowl had been filled to the brim with concrete.

Higgins furiously fastened his trousers, raving incoherently under his breath. “Of all the…after the drunken orgies I’ve cleaned up…AND THE SAFARI WEEK! Rhinoceros feces everywhere…chimps humping anything that moved. THOSE PANTS WERE BRAND NEW!” He stomped back to the kitchen ranting all the way. “…give him the satisfaction, no sir! I’ll hold it all day if I have to!” He resumed his place at the table, determined to have the last laugh. As a show of his grit, he grabbed the coffee pot intent on drinking the 6 remaining cups. He was unfortunately spared the consequences of this monumentally stupid decision when he reached for his cup and noticed an envelope lying beneath it. It certainly hadn’t been there when he left for the bathroom. The familiar sense of dread crept over him as his trembling hands broke the wax seal and extracted its contents. It was a letter from his employer.

Dear Higgins,

You have no doubt discovered the house’s curious lack of toilets. You may as well have noticed that every drain in the house has been sealed. Sinks, showers, everything. There have also been some…modifications to the security systems. You’re incredibly unimaginative mind is no doubt wondering the simple question “why?” Have no fear Higgsy; there is method in my brilliance.

            It should please you to learn that today marks the end of your ninety day probation period. I’m sure that it will please you even more to hear that in making it this far, you have caused me to lose a very lucrative wager. So, I have decided to celebrate your dual successes. Allow me to elaborate.

            I want to play a game Higgins. It’s a delightful variation of the classic game “Hide & Seek” I call it “Run and Hide”. The object of our delightful little game is very simple. All you have to do is stay in bounds and make to nightfall without being “found”. You may hide anywhere within the house. Anywhere outside the house is considered out of bounds. And I do hope you’re in a sporting mood Higgsy, because this game is mandatory. I have delivered you from the temptation of cheating by placing Wilde Manor on full lockdown. Every door is sealed and all the windows are shut. You’ll need to take my word on this Higgsy as testing the security will result in very severe penalties. Oh, and Higgins, choose your hiding spot carefully. I’m not the only stalker in the murky shadows of the Wilde Manor.

G.W.

P.S. Hope you enjoyed the coffee, I brewed it especially for our game.