Leena Varghese's Blog - Posts Tagged "suspense"
The Heir of Kingsley by Leena Varghese
The Heir of Kingsley by Leena Varghese
“From the deepest desires often comes the deadliest hate.” - Socrates
EXCERPT
I left the kitchen in a despondent mood and went to my room. Julie kept intruding in my muddled thoughts. Our relationship had soured considerably due to various factors by the time we had entered our forties. When our daughter Selena moved to the US for higher studies and later a permanent job, the reason for Julie and me to stay together was lost. There was nothing that I could do to mend fences. There were too many grievances buried under the proverbial carpet that I was very fond of hiding things under.
When she died, she left me in a morass of guilty relief and bewildering loneliness. Ten years of my life seemed to play in front of my eyes. I had brushed Julie under my favourite carpet of procrastinations and empty promises until now. Somehow, inexplicably, Kingsley Arches had pulled the rug from under my feet. The memories split open like an over-ripe jackfruit fallen from a groaning tree with a thump. The deluge of images left me gasping in pain.
It was probably a lethal combination of toddy, emotional exhaustion, and my medication that made me drop on the bed like a boulder. I fell into restless slumber instantly. My dreams were chaotic and terrifying that night. I ran after the elusive image of a woman through a maze of corridors in a great big house with no windows. The woman whipped around and charged at me, snarling. It was a dark face with no features except snapping fangs. I shrank back, unable to move, with my feet embedded like tree roots on the floor. The dream merged into another, with someone chasing me with an axe. Mathan’s voice screamed at me to cut open the walls and make windows. I couldn’t breathe, as once more, dark claustrophobia engulfed me. I felt as though someone had yanked a blanket off me on a freezing night.
The clap of thunder made me jump from the bed. I woke up with my heart in my mouth and tears on my cheeks. I hadn’t wept in years. It had only been a nightmare. I pacified myself. In my efforts to straighten my stiff body, I fell askew in a tangle of numb limbs on the carpeted floor. My inhaler prodded into my thigh at a painful angle. Stuffing it back into my pocket I sat there shivering from reaction. It was cold. My jacket was still on and so were my shoes. Reaching for the switch of the bedside lamp, I found that there was no electricity.
In the middle of my fumbling about, the singing began again.
I knew who it was, of course. Limping to the window, I looked out into the violent night that seemed to be tearing at its own seams. The trees lurched like drunkards. In the middle of all the noise, I could hear the lullaby that wrenched at my senses.
******
BLURB
Nearly on the verge of retirement, Professor James Kingsley inherits the Kingsley Bluemount Arches, a dilapidated plantation bungalow previously owned by his Anglo-Indian uncle, Albert Kingsley. The vast run-down estate in the ethereally beautiful mountains of Munnar is more than just a legacy of ruins.
As James takes over after the death of the old care-taker, Kunju Maria, who had lived on the premises for decades, he begins to feel the suffocating burden of being the heir of Kingsley estate. Kunju Maria’s pervasive presence haunts every corner of his property.
His uneasiness and confusion are magnified when he starts to see the apparition of a young woman even as he sinks into a strange depressive introspection, concerning his own unresolved issues. He is unaware of the danger in his surroundings until he is nearly killed by a freak accident on the estate. As each day becomes a threat to his life, he gets obsessed with the reason behind the mysterious incidents at Kingsley.
James realises quite soon that his hallucinations are not figments of his disturbed mind, but deadly phantoms that have a deeper connection to his past.
Would he succeed in his quest to find the answers to the dark past of Kingsley Bluemount Arches? Or do the apparitions consume him as he grapples with his own lack of faith?
Does James rise out of his diffidence to become the true heir of Kingsley on his journey of self-discovery?
“From the deepest desires often comes the deadliest hate.” - Socrates
EXCERPT
I left the kitchen in a despondent mood and went to my room. Julie kept intruding in my muddled thoughts. Our relationship had soured considerably due to various factors by the time we had entered our forties. When our daughter Selena moved to the US for higher studies and later a permanent job, the reason for Julie and me to stay together was lost. There was nothing that I could do to mend fences. There were too many grievances buried under the proverbial carpet that I was very fond of hiding things under.
When she died, she left me in a morass of guilty relief and bewildering loneliness. Ten years of my life seemed to play in front of my eyes. I had brushed Julie under my favourite carpet of procrastinations and empty promises until now. Somehow, inexplicably, Kingsley Arches had pulled the rug from under my feet. The memories split open like an over-ripe jackfruit fallen from a groaning tree with a thump. The deluge of images left me gasping in pain.
It was probably a lethal combination of toddy, emotional exhaustion, and my medication that made me drop on the bed like a boulder. I fell into restless slumber instantly. My dreams were chaotic and terrifying that night. I ran after the elusive image of a woman through a maze of corridors in a great big house with no windows. The woman whipped around and charged at me, snarling. It was a dark face with no features except snapping fangs. I shrank back, unable to move, with my feet embedded like tree roots on the floor. The dream merged into another, with someone chasing me with an axe. Mathan’s voice screamed at me to cut open the walls and make windows. I couldn’t breathe, as once more, dark claustrophobia engulfed me. I felt as though someone had yanked a blanket off me on a freezing night.
The clap of thunder made me jump from the bed. I woke up with my heart in my mouth and tears on my cheeks. I hadn’t wept in years. It had only been a nightmare. I pacified myself. In my efforts to straighten my stiff body, I fell askew in a tangle of numb limbs on the carpeted floor. My inhaler prodded into my thigh at a painful angle. Stuffing it back into my pocket I sat there shivering from reaction. It was cold. My jacket was still on and so were my shoes. Reaching for the switch of the bedside lamp, I found that there was no electricity.
In the middle of my fumbling about, the singing began again.
I knew who it was, of course. Limping to the window, I looked out into the violent night that seemed to be tearing at its own seams. The trees lurched like drunkards. In the middle of all the noise, I could hear the lullaby that wrenched at my senses.
******
BLURB
Nearly on the verge of retirement, Professor James Kingsley inherits the Kingsley Bluemount Arches, a dilapidated plantation bungalow previously owned by his Anglo-Indian uncle, Albert Kingsley. The vast run-down estate in the ethereally beautiful mountains of Munnar is more than just a legacy of ruins.
As James takes over after the death of the old care-taker, Kunju Maria, who had lived on the premises for decades, he begins to feel the suffocating burden of being the heir of Kingsley estate. Kunju Maria’s pervasive presence haunts every corner of his property.
His uneasiness and confusion are magnified when he starts to see the apparition of a young woman even as he sinks into a strange depressive introspection, concerning his own unresolved issues. He is unaware of the danger in his surroundings until he is nearly killed by a freak accident on the estate. As each day becomes a threat to his life, he gets obsessed with the reason behind the mysterious incidents at Kingsley.
James realises quite soon that his hallucinations are not figments of his disturbed mind, but deadly phantoms that have a deeper connection to his past.
Would he succeed in his quest to find the answers to the dark past of Kingsley Bluemount Arches? Or do the apparitions consume him as he grapples with his own lack of faith?
Does James rise out of his diffidence to become the true heir of Kingsley on his journey of self-discovery?
