The Sunken City Chapter 1 Part 3

 The Sunken City Chapter 1 Part 3

The dock curved into the storage area which had a ground level beneath tall iron shelves. The walls were lined with cloth covered furniture and various possessions that obviously belonged to a young woman. Beneath a large painting laid an exquisite violin. I gazed at the painting, realizing the blonde woman with striking eyes and this very same violin belonged to the Cartwright heir. The violin was covered in dust, but appeared as if it had been used recently. Before I could run my fingers across the tight strings of her violin, I heard a loud noise, and realized Ben and his partner had discovered me.

"For Pete's sake, Henry, you've gone mad, too! You can't be breaking into a warehouse!" I stopped dead in my tracks, assessing my actions. There's no fighting here. I put my arms to my sides, and pled with Ben, "These are Cindy Cartwright's possessions. They look recently tampered with. We could work together." Ben put his hands on his hips, and, reluctantly, reasoned, "Alright, Henry, but we are going to do things my way." He stepped aside, and he held open the door of his patrol car. I climbed in, his partner leaving to resume his post at the mutilated orca. Ben drove up a windy hillside road, at it wasn't long before we were in the wooded area surrounding the Cartwright estate. 

Ben brought his car to a halt, and got out, me following suit, with a slam of a door. It was not morning yet,  pitch black, and we would have to climb up the hillside to reach the healthy Cartwright estate. Ben sighed, and asked me, "Should we proceed?" I silently nodded, and we started the ascent to Cindy's former manor. Early on the path, we encountered 3 graves that belonged to the Cartwright family. Ben became fascinated by them, and I too investigated the names on each headstone. How odd. Cindy's name was not etched on any of the three, supporting my theory that she is still out there. Ben continued on, perhaps not coming to the same conclusion as I had. 

The manor towered over us, and we approached the front double doors, quickly realizing they were jammed by probable human intervention. We ventured to the side door, where a dingy middle-aged man stood. He glared at me, directing his suspicion. Whether it was my appearance or clothes, he did not have the same disposition as towards Ben. Ben took charge, and sternly told him, "You're going to have let us in. The manor is under investigation by the Innsmouth Harbor Authority." The man shrugged, giving into the force exerted by my ally. He opened the door, his anger not volunteering a single verbal argument. We crept in, greeted by a grand receiving hall.

Ben grabbed out his flashlight, and I took out my lighter I had received from my deceased friend, a fond and useful keepsake. Igniting it. Ben said, as he trailed down the hall, calling out, "We'll split up, George." I assumed the investigation of the upper floor, examing each bedroom carefully. Discovering nothing, I heard a crash downstairs, accompanied by a gunshot. I hurried to join Ben, receiving a slight glimpse of what was the surly woman in the pub. She retreated down to the basement, where we discovered an odd glowing passage leading to what was an underground cave. The woman was nowhere to be seen, but we both doggedly pursued her, myself believing she had a hand in the Cartwright disappearance. Following a path down, I became engrossed by the low luminous light emanating from the glimmering rocks lining the walls of the cavern.