Houses are like story books. Their walls hide all that has been absorbed from occupants and events. The house in the middle of Lorequist Forest was just one of these.
An oddity for certain was its strange location that by all appearances gave it the look of being on an island when no island was nearby. No paths for accessibility, just barren land of a strange bleached white sand, surrounding a three story structure with lush green forestry a distance of more than an acre in diameter beyond the property on which it stood. .
The house itself was also an oddity. It resembled a French Manor House and had a tan weathered exterior with mahogany enameled shutters on the windows.
Each floor of the structure had 6 cross paned windows at the front of the house, proving the actual width of the house to be more than 8,000 square feet.
Six red brick chimneys erupted from the flat roof. At the back of the house each floor would have the same number of windows as if the occupants spent much time observing their surroundings outdoors.
Other than the windows, only one entry was located at the front of the structure as if during construction someone forgot to add several more doors.
The sole front entry had two massive oak doors, each with inlaid wrought iron over the decorative carvings.
There being no path accessible, any curiosity seeker would have found themselves entangled in various vines and overgrowth of tree limbs that, like a trap had numerous thick roots protruding from the ground's surface.
On a cool, breezy autumn day, Jake Durban, a vagabond type adventurer found himself lost in Lorequist Forest, That was easy to do, given that it was so heavily forested.
He kept walking, passing what appeared to be a small pond. Jake laughed to himself.
"Strange place for a pond. But I suppose rain water has to collect somewhere."
He shrugged and wondered when he would come upon an outlying path to a main road.
He passed several unusual flowers and plants, ducking his head, avoiding a prickly vine hanging low from tree branches.
He peered upward at the tree from which the vine hung and he could see the trunk was covered in this vine nearly to the tree's top.
"Best I keep walking or I'll never find a way out of this sylvan glade"
Jake had no idea just how accurately he described this lush forest.
The wind whistled through the trees with an eerie sound like a screaming rabbit caught in a trap. At one point Jake had to cover his ears for the high pitched sound piercing his auditory nerves.
As late morning gave way to high noon, the sun dappled through the various maples, oaks and sycamore trees.
Jake's legs were beginning to feel leaden.
"Here am I with no food or water in the middle of no where."
He worried he would soon feel parched., not to mention hungry. Feeling drowsy, he napped against the trunk of a gnarled oak.
He awoke refreshed and renewed in his trek.
"I suppose I could forage for food and water if I am desperate enough."
He laughed at the thought, just not at the possibility he may have to spend a night in this place.
Jake Durban, all six feet and one inch of him was not the man to be easily frightened or challenged. He ran his hand through his thick shock of red hair, stiffened as he stood erect, ready to start walking, Where, he knew not.
As he approached a copse of trees, he thought he saw something in the distance as the wind passed through the youngest tree growth. It looked like an island; but, he knew that couldn't be. Or could it?
He quickened his steps. As he came closer, he saw it wasn't an island but a huge house smack in the middle of a sand bar.
"How could there be a sand bar if there is no body of water in sight, he wondered?
No matter, Jake would prevail upon the occupants to give him directions to get out of his predicament.
He hurried toward the entry doors, grabbed the bronze lion's head door knocker and banged it loud enough to create an echo for several seconds.
There being no response, he walked around to the side of the structure to see if there was another entrance. None was to be found.
"That's odd. All houses have more than one entrance."
As he approached the back portion of the house, he saw the pool of water around the sand bar was an ugly, thick soupy black color. The back portion of the house had no windows. Not one.
"Who builds a house with only one door and no windows on the back wall? For that matter who'd live in such a place?"
Jake realized he was talking aloud to himself. It couldn't matter since he came to the realization the place was empty and from the overgrowth around the place had been for some time.
\So back around to the front of the house he went.
He walked up the flagstone path to the circular steps with inlaid black marble.
Jake nearly slipped on the marble as he reached for the door with much trepidation.
"Well here goes. If someone is inside, I just hope they are friendly," he said, adjusting his shirt and smoothing his shock of red hair..
This time he knew it was pointless to use the door knocker since he got no response the first attempt. . I
Instead, he cautiously twisted the doorknob. It felt oily as he pushed the door open a few inches.
"Hello? Is anyone here? My name is Jake Durbin and I find I am lost. Can you help me find my way?"
The silence was like a heavy thundercloud.
He stepped onto the foyer flagstone, peered around and seeing no one walked further into the large entry hall. He saw before him a . spiraling staircase. But not the usual kind one imagines in a manor house. It was made of some kind of metal, copper, Jake supposed.
He'd seen this kind of spiral staircase only once before in a lighthouse on the coast of Cape May.
Why on earth would anyone want such a monstrosity in their home? It was as if whoever lived here was confused about interior decorating or had a bizarre sense of humor.
He took his first step on it, but backed down when it began to rattle and shake violently.
The place was like a mausoleum and so deadly silent it gave him second thoughts about wandering any further.
Still Jake's overpowering sense of adventure prevailed. , He walked into the drawing room just off the entry way. It was furnished carefully with two masculine, leather wing chairs, a long, blue, velveteen sofa and two smaller love seats that once must have been a delicate sea foam green color but was now overlain with so much dust the color appeared a mousy brown.
The air in this room reeked of mold.
Jake immediately held his hand over his nose and mouth. He walked down a small hall that led to what must have been a kitchen, although there was no semblance of cooking implements, like pots, pans and skillets, nor any cooking utensils or dishware to be seen.
He realized his chances of getting help to find his way back out of the woods were growing slimmer than he imagined.
He headed back toward the large room he passed near the drawing room. It was the size of a ballroom and had a few chairs positioned against the walls.
Feeling light headed and strangely giddy, Jake sashayed an imaginary waltz in the center of the room.
"I must have absorbed the mold in the drawing room. I better watch that."
Curious, he decided to see what lay on the upper floors. He would soon regret that decision.
Very, very cautiously he climbed the shaky spiral metal stairs, gripping the railings until his knuckles were white. He reached the landing as the entire staircase shook wildly.
On this floor carpeting covered the floors and seemingly the silk toile fabric walls were slightly faded, though still obscuring any semblance of actual color.
Jake supposed it must have been that blue color he'd seen in French manor houses in paintings in museums he had visited.
There was a total of six, thick oak doors to each of the six rooms. The doors all had curved glass over the tops of the heavy wood and odd door knobs that resembled engraved scrolls with ugly, angel faces carved in them..
He opened the door to the nearest room and saw the skeletal remains of a man and a woman. They were still in their beds. Jake took a closer look to see if they had been murdered. But there were no signs of violence, other than a bloody drool from their mouths.
"Poison?" he wondered.
He went into the next room and this time there was one skeleton seated at a desk, slumped over with a pen in hand, as if in the process of writing a letter.
Jake saw there was something on the note paper.
It read: "There is no hope we will be saved in time. I don't want to die like this. But there is no medicine for this evil."
It was signed, "Jean Louis de Lorequist."
"So that's who the forest must have been named for," Jake surmised.
As he moved from room to room the number of skeletons rose to eleven. In the last room he entered the skeletons were three children and a female adult.
Jake was shaken by the sight of so many dead bodies now turned skeletal.
What could possibly have happened to cause these deaths?
These people had obviously been dead for several decades. Why did no one find them?
Surely if he had lost his way, others also may also have done and somehow never reached this manor house.
Jake was horrified at the thought that this entire area might bneen an unknown burial ground.
He wondered if he would be an addition to the burial ground if he couldn't find his way back.
Jake Durbin sensed that whatever had ben the cause of these deaths, it had to be some kind of environmental disaster.
What didn't make sense was that if that was the case, the toxin would have caused the trees to defoliate. Instead the forest was lush and green. Still, this forest was devoid of animal life.
Jake poked around the inside of the manor house.
he came upon a door with a glass door. He opened it and saw it led to a basement. that had been some type of laboratory.
There on several long benches he saw what looked like glass vessels, a scale and old Bunsen burners.
He was puzzled until he came upon the roll top desk near the far wall.
He found notes in an obviously professional handwriting.
Jake wondered if this laboratory was not used for bizarre experimental research. research.
To the left of the desk was a large bookcase also covered in dust and mold.
When he reached for one of the books on the shelf, it literally fell apart in his hands.
He decided whatever had caused this disaster causes the condition of the book. Best he not try to remove any more of them.
By now, Jake was more than curious. He was determined to know more.
He found noes in a drawer in the roll top desk. The notes were inside a small leather satchel.
Jake was about to plunge himself into the workings of this disaster.
He learned from the notes that de Lorquist was a chemical engineer and had tried to develop a formula that was supposed to protect humans from acid rain and soil leachate destroying crops.
As Jake read through these notes, he saw clearly that de Lorequist miscalculated the effects of the sulfuric acid he was experimenting with..
The notes indicated he had taken rain samples to calculate the mount of sulfuric acid in the samples and there being no means of disposal, he created a small "pond" he ued foe disposal.
With each rain event, the pond began to turn the soil surrounding the manor house toxic.
Jake panicked. he had been inside long enough for any toxic residue to kill him as itn had the occupants of the manor house.
He stuffed the notes back into the satchel and began to run for the door. He tried to find his way back to the path, but as twilight began it became more difficult to make his way.
He took the satchel of notes with him because he felt it was imperative that he report what he had seen and found.
With the image of that black oily pool near the manor house, he realized it wouldn't be safe for human curiosity and should be inspected and removed before the toxins spread underground in the soil.
Once again he heard what he thought was the eerie screaming wind. He kept walking until he heard a heavy rustling in the distance and a pounding thud like heavy footsteps.
He kept stock still and breathed silently. The screaming sound came closer and closer.
From just beyond the copse of trees, Jake saw what should have been a human being bur had deteriorated to a mass of drippling flesh. One of its eyes was closed by the dripping flesh and the other had he barest semblance of sight.
Its limbs were still mobile, though its flesh was also deteriorated and shadows of one could easily be seen.
A groaning, tortured sound came from its lips.
Jake oved toward it realizing it was unable to hurt him.
"My God! What are you? Who ere you? Jake asked.
The response horrified Jake. It came in short phrases though still intelligible.
"Lost. One week. Help."
"I was also lost. I think I can find my way back. What happened to you?"
"Thirsty. Water. Poisoned. Help me. Pain bad."
Jake waved the poor man on so as to get him help. He came across an oak he remembered for its odd smattering of discolored leaves that seemed to glow like diamonds. He knew they were headed down the right path.
He heard the man groan and then turned to see the man toppled to the ground. Jake ran to help.
"No. Dying." were the man's last words.
Jake Durbin thought he had fallen asleep and it was all some kind of bad dream as he lay in a hospital beds attached to a half dozen machines.
When he told where he had been, at first the doctors thought he was hysterical.
Then Jake told him about the man lying dead on the path to the manor house
Naturally, when the authorities found the dead man, they knew what Jake told them was a major environmental disaster that had to be contained.
Twenty later, Jake told his Grandchildren about the Manor House and all that occurred there. The authorities declared the entire area a danger zone.
More than a half dozen skeletal bodies were found under leachate soil that had been covered over by toxic dust. The same dust Jake saw inside the manor house.
The house in the middle of the forest was destroyed and the black pool emptied and lead lined to stop further damage to the environment. The public was "assured" any toxic dust would not "be harmful" given that wind currents would have "carried most of it off."
The dead man Jake found wandering in gruesome agony was laid to rest in a lead lined grave.
