Chapter 115: The Hound of the Baskervilles (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 115: The Hound of the Baskervilles (3)
“Once upon a time, there lived a woman of singular malice named Helena Baskerville.”
“…Should I take that as an insult to the Baskerville family?”
“Uh, well…”
Adler had just lowered his voice, shifting into a theatrical tone, when he was immediately cut off by the butler’s objection. He paused, staring at the woman before scratching his head with a soft sigh.
“My apologies, but it is a matter of historical record. The facts have been cross-verified multiple times through a thorough analysis of the ancient manuscripts detailing the incident.”
“For someone who claims to be a mere traveler seeking rest, you seem remarkably well-versed in our family affairs.”
“…That I am, yes.”
Maneuvering smoothly past the butler’s sharp remark, Adler continued his tale.
“In any case, this Helena Baskerville feared neither God nor man. She possessed a temperament more akin to a wild beast than a lady.”
“…I shall record every word you say and report it directly to the Lady of the house.”
“But one day,” Adler continued, blatantly ignoring the threat as he narrowed his eyes, sinking back into the narrative, “this wicked woman fell in love with a farmer’s son.”
The three women in the room found their gazes fixed on him.
“Of course, it was nothing more than an obscene display of lust… hardly worthy of being called love. Even then, the lady’s notoriety was so widespread that the poor young man lived in constant terror, doing everything in his power to avoid her marriage proposal.”
“””……..”””
“Personally, I find this part of the story incredibly relatable. The empathy I feel for him is quite profound, actually.”
As Adler muttered this, he felt the chilling stares of the three women bore into him. He meekly abandoned the tangent and returned to the story.
“Eventually, the inevitable happened. The wicked lady gathered her companions, kidnapped the young man, and imprisoned him within the Baskerville estate.”
“……..”
“He was held on the second floor. The captive could only tremble as the sounds of cheers and drunken shouts drifted up from below, where the lady and her friends celebrated his abduction with a feast.”
Adler’s expression grew somewhat somber as he whispered the next words.
“…If you ever intend to do such a thing to me, I kindly ask that you be gentle.”
“Before I am actually compelled to do such a thing, could you please finish the story properly?” Charlotte’s voice was a cold threat, signaling that her patience had reached its limit.
“Understood.”
Adler’s beaming facade returned instantly, as if the tension had never existed.
“…Anyway, after overhearing their plans for him, the young man made a desperate, brave decision.”
“What did he do?”
“He climbed down the ivy clinging to the southern wall and escaped from the second floor. He began a frantic flight across the moorlands, heading for his father’s house—fourteen kilometers away.”
Suddenly, Adler’s expression turned grim.
“Meanwhile, the wicked lady realized her prize had escaped.”
“””……….”””
“Naturally, she flew into a rage. She screamed for all to hear…”
His voice, which had been full of jest moments ago, transformed. It became the melodic, captivating voice of the young actor who had charmed half of London.
“…‘If only I could bring that boy back, I would sell my soul to the devil this very night!’ She spoke with terrifying sincerity.”
“…Hmm.”
“She stormed into the stables, saddled a horse, and set the hounds on the scent of the man who had been imprisoned upstairs.”
“……..”
“Not long after, Helena Baskerville and her hounds were seen tearing across the wilderness under the light of the moon.”
Gia Lestrade and Rachel Watson found themselves swallowing hard, utterly gripped by the performance. It was at that moment…
“…Hold on.”
Charlotte Holmes interrupted the flow.
“The part about crossing the wilderness under the moonlight—that isn’t a flourish you added yourself, is it, Mr. Adler?”
“…No, it is not. You may ask the butler.”
Charlotte shifted her gaze. The butler, standing nearby with an expressionless face, gave a quiet nod of confirmation.
“Why do you ask so suddenly?” Adler inquired.
“It’s nothing.”
“…Please, save your questions for the end. We are approaching the climax.”
Adler cleared his throat and resumed.
“The lady’s friends eventually sobered up and gave chase on horseback. But before long, they witnessed a sight that froze the blood in their veins.”
A sinister smile played on his lips.
“The brave hounds had stopped their pursuit near a deep valley. They were huddled together, whimpering and shivering in abject terror.”
“………”
“A shepherd they encountered claimed he had seen a woman crossing the moor with a hellish dog—a beast whose eyes glowed with a chilling blue light.”
That smile, combined with the heavy atmosphere of the mansion, created a presence so ominous it made the heart tremble.
“…That is where they should have turned back.”
Adler shook his head as if lamenting their fate.
“However, fueled by lingering alcohol and the presence of their companions, they pushed forward.”
“””……….”””
“Trembling, they descended into the valley. There, they witnessed the most horrific sight of their lives.”
He tilted his head, posing a question to his audience.
“What do you think they saw?”
No one answered.
“A poor young man dead of exhaustion in a mire?”
“……….”
“Or perhaps Helena Baskerville, collapsed beside him for some unknown reason?”
He knew they wouldn’t answer. He didn’t want them to.
“Neither…”
Adler leaned in, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper.
“…What plunged them into madness was a black, monstrous creature.”
“A black… creature.”
“The beast was perched atop the fallen Helena Baskerville, tearing at her throat.”
Rachel Watson shuddered.
“The beast turned toward the friends, its blue eyes flashing with an unholy glow and blood dripping from its fangs. They screamed and fled the moor as fast as their horses could carry them.”
“………”
“Rumor has it that one died that night. The others survived, but they were never sane again.”
“…Why?”
Adler’s grin stretched wide and wicked.
“…Because from that day on, the creature appeared every night at their windows, glaring at them with those ghastly blue eyes and blood-stained teeth.”
“That is not part of the legend.”
The butler’s dry, buzzkill interjection shattered the mood. Adler’s expression turned sullen.
“Since then, the Baskerville family has suffered a high rate of mysterious deaths, eventually leading to their decline.”
He quickly regained his usual composure, wrapping up the tale.
“…Until recently, that is, when Sir Charles Baskerville began restoring the family to its former glory.”
“Hmm…”
“But the curse remains to this day, still hungering for the necks of the Baskervilles. A frightening legend, indeed.”
With that, Isaac Adler finished his performance. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, his voice sounding relieved.
“I went to great lengths to tell that. Won’t anyone applaud?”
“””……….”””
A heavy silence drifted through the room.
“The Bible says the son shall not be punished for the sins of the father, nor the father condemned for the transgressions of the son,” the butler said, breaking the silence.
“Legends are just legends, ladies and… gentle man.”
“…Have you considered that it might not be a punishment from God, but from the devil instead?” Adler asked.
“Mind your tongue. The devil was thoroughly eradicated during the Crusades more than nine hundred years ago.”
“And yet, we live in a chaotic era where long-forgotten legends are resurfacing, do we not? That hellhound might very well return to these lands.”
“…Tsk.”
As the butler and Adler exchanged cold glares, doubt flickered in the eyes of the other three women.
‘It’s… quite unexpected for Adler to react to a woman like that.’
‘Indeed.’
‘…Hmm.’
Before they could dwell on the oddity of the interaction, Adler rose from his seat.
“Well, I have no intention of arguing. Since I’ll be staying here for a few more weeks, I’d rather not create unnecessary friction.”
“As soon as the Lady inherits the estate, she will have you thrown out,” the butler countered.
“…I’ve already accounted for that in the agreement I signed with the current owner. I will leave on my own in a few weeks.”
Adler responded smoothly. As he passed the butler, he gave her shoulder a light pat and whispered into her ear.
“Until then, I’ll be in your care.”
Was it their imagination?
“””………..”””
Not only the butler, but every servant in the mansion who bowed as Adler stepped through the door was staring at him with pale, chilling eyes.
“Well, then… we should be going…”
“…Since it is getting late, why not stay the night?”
As Watson rose to bid farewell, trying to escape the suffocating atmosphere, the butler made the suggestion. Her voice was emotionless, devoid of any human warmth.
“The Baskerville estate is dangerous at night.”
“…Pardon?”
“If you were to wander into the moorlands by mistake, it would be quite troublesome.”
Watson hesitated, at a loss for words.
“…Then we shall accept your hospitality,” Charlotte said, rising and bowing her head.
“Holmes, are you serious?”
“………”
“Can’t we just go? This place gives me a terrible feeling.”
The corners of Charlotte’s mouth lifted slightly.
“…That is exactly why we’re staying, Watson.”
Watson exhaled a deep sigh, looking as if she wished the ground would swallow her whole. She recognized that expression on her partner’s face—it was one she hadn't seen in a long time. It was a look brimming with vitality, the look Charlotte only wore when she had caught the scent of a truly fascinating case.
“Inspector Lestrade, would it be too much to ask to share a room with you?”
“…Pardon?”
“It’s not that I’m scared! I just… have a bad feeling…” Watson clung to the Inspector, murmuring in a subdued voice.
“……..”
Charlotte watched them in silence before turning her gaze forward.
‘Interesting.’
It was only for a fleeting moment, but she realized that the spine-chilling stares the servants had directed at Adler were now being directed at her as well.
.
.
.
.
.
At dawn the next day…
“…Holmes.”
Rachel Watson, who had finally managed to drag Gia Lestrade to her room, tossed and turned in bed before calling out to her partner.
“What is it?”
“No, just… wondering if you were still awake.”
Charlotte, who had been sitting in an armchair lost in thought, glanced at her with a bored expression.
“I didn't realize my assistant, a war veteran with a medal to her name, would be so frightened by a mere ghost story.”
“I-I’m not scared of people! But ghosts are different…”
“…Sigh.”
“You and Inspector Lestrade are the abnormal ones, you know?”
Charlotte sighed at Watson’s whining and looked away.
“…Holmes, tell me a funny story, will you? To take my mind off things.”
“Sure. The curtains in this mansion—aren’t they quite funny?”
“…What?”
Prompted by Watson’s apprehensive voice, Charlotte smiled and reached out.
“They’ve hung these high-quality blackout curtains by the windows. Yet, during the day they pull them back, and at night they draw them fully. It’s the opposite of their intended use in a place like this. Quite amusing, isn’t it?”
Charlotte whispered as she gently caressed the fabric.
“…Why would they do that?”
“This is just my speculation, but…”
Just as she was about to reveal the thoughts she had been brewing, a sound shattered the silence.
“Someone, please… help me!!!”
“”……..!!!””
A terrified scream echoed from below.
“Ba-Baskerville… Lord Baskerville…!!!”
“Wh-What’s happening?”
“…So, it has begun.”
It was the prelude to the nightmare of the Baskerville family.