Riley Cameron ; A Gentleman's Visit

Riley Cameron Fri Mar 26, 2010 6:30 pm

All the years of growing up mostly alone still hadn’t prepared Riley Cameron for facing his college graduation by himself. Yale had been good to him, though he didn’t believe that it was too much to ask for his parents or brothers to show up. As he stood and crossed that stage, the sound of applause and cheers didn’t reach his ears; instead, the silence from his family loomed about him, covering any other sound that was present in the auditorium. Thankfully the service hadn’t lasted more than the promised four hours, and the young boy was able to make it past the gathering crowds of family who had actually showed up to congratulate their graduate. And now, as he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, blue eyes staring back at him as if scolding him for even expecting someone who was related to him to show up, he felt a tinge of guilt. What had he done wrong that would make his parents not come? Sure, he knew they were busy with their latest fashion shows and company shares, but they could have at least made the effort to show up at their youngest son’s event.

Pulling himself away from the mirror, the young socialite made his way into his bedroom, picking up the fitted blazer hanging by the dresser nearest his bathroom. He had one more event to present himself at on that night before he shipped back off to the Upper East Side, and he was determined to make it a night he wouldn’t forget. Slipping on his coat, he picked up his set of keys and made his way to the elevator. Turning on his heel as he pressed the cool button down, he took one last look at his penthouse and took his bottom lip in between his teeth. This place had been a friendly version of home that he had ever known, and in less than a day, he’d be leaving it all behind. For what? To return to the state he grew up in, moving back into The New York Plaza Hotel and act like he hadn’t been gone for four years to school? He could only hope Sebastian the doorman still recognized him.

The loud ‘ting’ of the elevator arriving on his floor alerted the male to its doors opening, and he stepped inside without a second thought. He’d return to New York and slip back into his modeling career, drowning himself in work instead of facing the family that he always thought should have been there for him. They had sent cards, yes, but their appreciation – their respect – was not making itself known for the boy. The closest he had come to hearing from his family in over a year was from a card, which had been scribbled a quick “love you” courtesy from his mother’s assistant. At least the taunt woman still thought of him enough to send him a graduation card when his mother couldn’t be bothered with it. The thoughts of his family kept him occupied as he made his way down the hotel, and Riley found himself so buried within them that whenever the elevator stopped and the doors opened to let in another passenger, he hadn’t noticed much other than the other guest simply staring at him and smiling. He didn’t think twice when the guest didn’t step onto his elevator, nor did he care to; had he been paying more attention to his surroundings, he would’ve caught glimpse of the menace he thought only appeared to him within his dreams.

The drive to his friend’s house had him accompanied by soft tunes of Eisley, their new album chiming its way through his speakers as if there solely to calm him. He sang along, voice rising and easily catching the tune without too much thought having to be put into it. He had been singing and dancing most of his life; ever since his parents had decided that he would be more apt in the fine arts division of life rather than fending for himself on some field like his brothers. He took their interest and transformed it into his own, making a name for himself with magazine ads and casting parts, though if he had expected a sort of pride from them, he wouldn’t have gotten it. As the song ended, so did the revving of his engine, brake being put into place as Riley stepped out of his silver racer and onto the pavement of his friends drive. Cars were polluting the manor; trucks and hummers littered the driveway, lights shining from inside the house reflecting perfectly off of their windshields as if sending off an inviting message. Stepping forwards, Riley took the invite and brandished a smile on his face, stepping into a crowd of body heat and sweat.

The bustle of the party didn’t do much to ease Riley’s nerves, however. Determined to find his friend, Jacob, the blond made his way past bodies grinding up against one another in the heat of passion amongst others on the dance floor, their clothes almost blinding him as they bounced back retro colors from the black lights and disco balls scattered on the ceiling. Going up one flight of stairs had him ascending another in search of his friend, until finally he reached a hall that had him pausing before stepping further. This part of the manor was abandoned; the music from downstairs could still be heard, though the air held a certain eerie quality to it. Why hadn’t the guests made their way here, yet, when they were ever so happily trashing what was left downstairs?

“Jacob?” Raising his voice to an octave just above that of the music, the blond boy called out to his friend before making his way down the hall. The doors were closed he noted, little dirty marks traced on their white frames. The one door that hitched his attention was the one at the end of the hall; slightly cracked open, little noises whimpered their ways to his ears, causing the hair to rise on the nape of his neck. Though all of his senses told him to stop there, to turn back, his footsteps carried him quickly and soundless to the end of the hall, his hand slipping in between the crack to push open his way into a magnificent dance studio – that was empty.

“Jacob, man, you in here? I could’ve sworn I heard something..” Taking another glance around the room, he found nothing out of the ordinary. Slim digits found themselves searching the side of the wall for a light switch, though when one was found it did nothing to illuminate the room. Still, he made his way closer to the mirrors, taking his hand and wiping a layer of dust from the huge mirror. Snorting in disgust, he noted that he had never allowed his studio to go so unclean, nor unused like this one seemingly was. Raising one hand above his head, he closed his eyes and spun around on the tip of his right toe, left leg lifting from the floor in a perfect motion before gracefully falling to the floor once more. And so he danced; forgetting the reason he was here and losing himself in his motions to help him deal with the years he had let bottle up inside himself. This was his solace; a place he could escape to when needed, to get away from the harsh reality that his family saw him less than his maids and butlers did.

Giving one last twirl, he lowered his body in a slightly sweeping motion, right arm slowly rising along with his body as if coming out of a bow. Eyes slightly peered open as he smiled – though the instant they locked on yellow ones behind him, a scream resonated past his lips. Gangly, decrepit fingers slid themselves around his mouth, pushing him back into the mirror that he had been practicing in front of. The putrid breath of his captor seemed to lap at his lips, and Riley’s eyes could only water at the stench. “The Gentleman Pym has come; let him collect you.” The words seemingly meant nothing, yet everything. He knew this demon – not much of who he was or what he was here for, just that he had been visited time and time again by the nighttime guest who was now closing his sharp tendrils around his throat with a crooked smile.

Trying to fight him off, Riley’s arms and legs pushed back, flailing at his sides as he tried to gain leverage against the monster. His ministrations seemed to be proving no avail; the harder Riley pushed, the tighter the grip on his body became. Tears began to well up in his eyes, making their way down his cheeks as he fought back. He managed to break one arm free, getting it high enough to punch the green-skinned gentleman backwards. The grip around his mouth was released albeit momentarily, and it was with that moment that Riley screamed for help. Slamming Riley backwards into the glass, Pym grimaced in a horrid way, tsk’ing at the fight the other boy was putting up. “I told you I’d be coming for you, yet you put up a fight? How rude you’ve become.”

The Gentleman continued to smile, using his left hand to rip holes into Riley’s clothes. His dirty fingernails cut into the boy’s flesh, and the blood began to slowly trickle down his body. Giving himself one last shot, Riley thrust his leg upwards, catching the monster’s stomach with his knee. His hand flew backwards, connecting with the mirror behind him; at the connection, a twisted sound of glass being ripped apart shrieked throughout the room. The long mirrors aligned on the wall began to crumble, yet they pieces seemed to float where they fell. Without warning, they flew towards the Gentleman at once, ripping into his chest and scratching at his eyes. Not taking a second chance, Riley stood and ran – out the door, down the hallway, and past the bodies that were still intertwined with one another downstairs, oblivious to his earlier plight.

He didn’t know what happened after that night. Returning to his penthouse, he packed up the last bit of his stuff and flew out the next morning. Was it all a dream? The cuts and bruises were still angrily boasted upon his pale flesh, though with time they would heal. Was his nighttime visitor dead like Riley suspected, or would he be haunted in the future by the presence? Only time would tell if he would be, and the blond didn’t want to take any chances. Not wanting to return to New York where he had been visited before, the blond picked another place where he thought he’d be a little safer – the City of Angels, Los Angeles. Escaping there would only bide him a little bit of time until he figured out just what the hell was going on, though he could only hope that it would be enough..

(Riley continues here.)