I have a Tantric panel

Chapter 74 The Dark Side of the Harrison Family (Seeking first-day subscriptions and monthly votes!)

I have seen the contents of the painting.

Clara turned to look at Cecil.

"Second brother, could you do me another favor?"

A few minutes later.

Cecil walked to the corner of the side hall, where a hidden door was in front of him.

The old butler stood aside, looking troubled.

"Second Young Master, Master will be unhappy if he finds out."

"It's okay, I'll explain it to him."

Hearing this, Joel knew he couldn't persuade Cecil, and could only let out an even longer sigh.

The old steward sighed with emotion.

From a paranoid perspective, the second young master and the master are actually the most similar.

With a soft creak, a brass hinge creaked open, and the old, hidden door was pushed open.

Below is a corridor leading underground.

Cecil, carrying a lantern in one hand and a painting in the other, slowly walked down the stairs.

The light from the lantern illuminated the long, dark corridor.

If Shane were here, he would realize that this corridor is remarkably similar to the one in Clara's dream.

the difference is.

There was no light source in the corridor other than the lantern.

Cecil knew that this was because Mrs. Luna could not be exposed to light for long periods of time.

Light had long been a source of stimulation for her.

On the contrary, being in a dark environment gave her a brief sense of security.

At the end of the corridor, there is a locked iron gate.

The intricate patterns on the door form an eye, or perhaps a moth.

As I walked to the very end of the corridor, the surroundings became even quieter.

The light from the lantern could only illuminate a small area around it.

This place feels completely isolated from the rest of the world.

Cecil took out the brass key he had gotten from the butler and unlocked the door.

No sound came from inside the iron gate during this process.

Dead silence.

"Mrs. Luna, I've come to visit you."

Cecil knocked on the door.

There was still no movement inside.

He pushed open the door and went inside.

In the dim light, Mrs. Luna sat in the old armchair in the corner of the room.

Her long, dry hair was loose, and she was only wearing a thin white nightgown.

Until the light came in.

Luna then raised her head, her gaze fixed intently on the firelight in the lantern.

Her face didn't look old; in fact, one could still vaguely see the beauty she had in her youth. She just looked somewhat pale and weak.

Moreover, upon closer inspection, one can see that she is wearing heavy iron shackles on her hands and feet, which are actually for her own protection.

"Cecil, you've come."

Luna looked up.

There was no madness in those deep red eyes that were exactly the same as Clara's; there was only an extremely quiet, deathly stillness.

It's as if the soul is dead; all that remains in the world is a cold, empty shell.

Yes, I'm here.

Cecil's tone remained normal.

"Clara misses you very much and asked me to bring you something."

"Clara?"

Upon hearing this name, a brief glimmer of light finally appeared in the lady's eyes.

But it quickly receded like the tide.

"I can't escape—I can't escape—Carat can't escape—"

"Even you, Cecil, will one day embrace that tragic fate—"

Cecil ignored Mrs. Luna's murmurs and unveiled the canvas, showing it to her. "This is the painting Clara asked me to show you."

"painting?"

Luna squinted at the picture frame in Cecil's hand.

On the canvas was a Gothic castle.

The background is pitch black night.

However, the burning platinum flames dispelled the darkness of the night.

It also ignited many moths that were fleeing inside the castle.

They fell in the firelight, turning into sparks of fire in the night sky.

Deep within the castle, a woman's figure stood, surrounded by countless cocoons and frenzied moths, unable to escape.

Just by seeing her back, one can imagine her pain and struggle.

In contrast.

It was two figures standing at the entrance of the castle, their backs to the viewer.

It was clear that it was a man and a woman.

The girl's hair was golden, like flowing gold.

The other person wore a long trench coat, exuding a mysterious and composed aura.

The two did not escape from the castle.

On the contrary, surrounded by the golden firelight, they relied on each other as they walked deeper into the castle.

That posture is reminiscent of a dragon-slaying hero from a fairy tale.

Strange to say.

The main subject of this painting is clearly an ominous black, yet it evokes a sense of uplift and positivity in the viewer.

It was as if it had been bathed in warm sunlight.

"It's a nice painting."

Mrs. Luna looked at it carefully for a while and then gave her evaluation.

"And then? Did Clara say anything?"

Seeing that her expression was no different from usual, Cecil sighed inwardly.

He had guessed that would be the case.

After all, Mrs. Luna's "illness" had taken so long and various methods to cure.

What can a painting that looks decent really accomplish?

It was simply because Clara had made a request to him.

Cecil was only willing to help with this one favor.

Even if it's just the last glimmer of hope, my sister wouldn't be willing to give up, would she?

Just like he used to be.

Cecil thought of his mother.

Like Mrs. Luna, she had contracted a strange illness that defied common sense.

He then began to have intermittent bouts of madness.

Sometimes they remain silent, and sometimes they suddenly attack anyone around them.

This includes her two children.

This was Cecil's most memorable experience.

It was her mother who picked up a silver dinner knife and stared at her with the eyes of someone looking at an enemy.

Then, he swung his sword and slashed down.

If his older brother Julian hadn't pushed him away in time, he probably would have been dead.

The price was a scar on my brother's arm that has yet to fade.

That's right.

In fact, the first person locked in this basement was not Mrs. Luna, but their mother.

In Cecil's opinion.

It was probably because of this precedent that her father became even more wary of Mrs. Luna's affairs.

They were even forbidden from visiting.

Even mentioning this name at home is taboo.

Even so, Cecil still hopes that Clara can rescue her mother.

Instead of being a coward like myself.

Clara said, "Take good care of yourself."

"Put aside your distracting thoughts," Cecil said to Mrs. Luna.

"She will come to see you in a while."

"Look at me? No! Don't come any closer!!"

The woman's voice suddenly became high-pitched and shrill.

The deathly silence turned into extreme fear.

Her gaze was fixed on a spot in the air, and the chains binding her rattled as she struggled.

"Run! Clara! Run away from this house—as far away as possible!"

Cecil closed the iron gate and walked towards the exit of the corridor.

Behind them, only the endless lamentation echoed.

The night after a snowfall is colder than usual.

The fireplace in Clara's room had long been lit by the maid, emitting a warm glow.

The girl lay on the bed, pulled the blanket up, closed her eyes, feeling both nervous and expectant.

Will I have a good dream tonight?