The Bottle of Poison

By Sophie Hardy, age 13

 2010

The Cowardly Lion was the one of the most popular inns in the country, with locals swarming in and out every day, regardless of the weather. With one of the biggest selections of alcoholic beverages in the country, it was never empty, filled with people from every background. The warm fire left on in the winter and the grand leather couches were a comfort to Aiden, reminding him of his home. 

He had left behind the vast expanse of snowy mountains inAustria to come here, to London, hoping to make something of himself, but sometimes, he would take a moment to remember what his life had been like a few years ago, hundreds of miles away, drinking hot cocoa with his cousins, and staying up late in his parents’ chateau listening to the whispering wind as it pushed against the old wooden floorboards. 

Now he lived in the Cowardly Lion, working part time, and taking classes at the local college for the rest. Working at the inn as a bartender, he was paid extremely well. And he had Mr Arison to thank for that. Mr Arison was the very wealthy owner of this inn, and though he didn’t spend all his time there, when he did, he would have lengthy stays at the lavish suite on the top floor, reserved only for the wealthy and upper class.

The Cowardly lion was a beautiful place to stay, welcoming to all, but Aiden was always on the lookout for cheap apartments that he could one day afford, because he could never shake that odd feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever he came close to Mr Arison. He had always thought that it was his condescending smile that he gave his guests or the ghastly scar down the side of his face that put him off, but last summer he had come to the dreadful realization that Mr Arison was more then he seemed, and dangerous. Because last summer, he had witnessed Mr Arison kill one of his friends, his guest, in cold blood and get away without so much as a scratch.

 

 

Summer of 2009

Lucy Miller was famous, she was an idol for many in different parts around the world, and Aiden was so happy that he had been given the task for the next few weeks to make sure that she had access to anything she needed for as long as she stayed at the Cowardly Lion. It made Aiden proud that Mr Arison had chosen him to look after one of his good friends, because it meant that he was valued at the inn, and had earned his place there. 

It was past five in the afternoon now, and Aiden was about to take Lucy’s order of food to her room, when he heard a crash come from upstairs, curious, he told Ron to cover for him at the bar as he left Lucy’s order on a table and went to investigate the sound. It had come from the flower table just outside of Lucy’s room, which seemed to have been accidentally knocked over. On the wooden floor, there was a small trail of liquid that led to the end of the corridor and down the flight of stairs. It was blood. Fresh blood. 

Starting to panic, Aiden rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time, but stopped dead when the trail stopped, right in front of – nothing. He stood there wondering if someone was in trouble and he should call the police or take his chances in the labyrinth of alleys that lay in front of him.

The sun was slowly beginning to set, giving of a hazy glow around him, but before he could decide he heard a scream, a plea for help. It wasn’t loud, but pained, and scared, enough to set him running in that direction. He rounded the corner and sucked in a breath at the sight before him. Lucy was curled up in a corner head bowed, her dress crumpled and covered in dirt and blood. Her face was pale and she was shaking, her green eyes crying silent tears. He ran to help her but stoppedwhen he saw Mr Arison crouching a few feet away, whispering to her quietly. It looked as if he was trying to help her, so Aiden stayed where he was, not wanting to make her feel crowded. 

However, after a minute of whispering, Mr Arison pulled out a small glass bottle and showed it to her, letting her smell it, then, as he put it away in his jacket pocket, he smirked. Confused, Aiden gasped when he caught a glimpse of silver as Mr Arison pulled out a long knife. Too frightened to do anything, Aiden stayed frozen as Arison pulled up his ‘friend’and held her against him. As the last golden beams of sunlight vanished, he slid the knife between her ribcage and held her in an almost loving embrace as the life seeped out of her and her body went limp.

 

2010

 

Aiden was just finishing his shift as the grandfather clock in the corner chimed midnight in symphony with the inn’s door pushing open. A handsome young women walked in, dressed in a long crimson evening dress with a white silk shawldraped across her shoulders. She walked right up to the bar and sat down, motioning Aiden over to her. Curious, he went over and took her order, taking his time as he observed his customer. She looked familiar; with bottle green eyes and long golden curls. Giving in too temptation, he asked her what brought her here tonight. ‘Just checking in with an old friend.’She replied sweetly. ‘he’s works here sometimes, perhaps you could tell me where to find him, James?’. Confused, Aiden was about to tell her that she was in the wrong place, there was no James working for the cowardly lion, she was mistaken. ‘He’s been here for years, and my sister told me…he owns this place?’ she asked him. Oh, Aiden thought,James, as in Mr Arison. ‘Yes,’ he told her, ‘he works here, and you’ve managed to catch him just in time, he isn’t leaving until Sunday.’ 

‘Perfect, could you help me arrange a meeting with him please, it’s rather important, you see, I’m trying to find my sister, I don’t know where she is, and this is the only other place where she could be, I’ve looked everywhere else, she’s been missing since last summer.’ Her voice was filled with sorrow. Startled, Aiden suddenly realised why she looked so familiar. ‘What’s your name?’ He asked softly. 

“Oh I’m Grace, Grace Miller.”

 

Later that night, hidden in his room, Aiden strained to hear the hush of voices from down the hall in Mr Arison’s study. When Aiden had delivered Grace to ‘James’s’ study, Mr Arison had been shocked to say the least. All the colour had drained from his face and he had lost his grip on the binder he had been looking at. He had taken Grace’s hand, and looked at her as if she was a ghost. After a few minutes he regained his composure and had asked Aiden to leave them alone to catch up. 

All Aiden could hear through the walls was quiet conversation along with the tinkle of wine glasses, then followed by smallgiggle. He was starting to relax and think that Mr Arison meant no harm to the sister of his victim when he heard it. Nothing. Complete quiet, then a short scuffle. As silent as possible, Aiden crept out of his room in the near blackness of the night, wishing that his mind was paranoid and he had dreamt up last summer and everything about Mr Arison that…THUD.

Aiden stopped dead in his tracks. He needed to go downstairs and see what happened, but was it wise to leave Lucy’s murderer in a room with her sister? He would go downstairs and see what happened first, then race upstairs and make sure Grace was all right.

The sight was shocking. The body had been pushed out of one of the windows of the inn into the alley, but there was no way to tell if they were alive during the fall. They lay flat on their stomach, in an unnatural position. Their golden curls spread out around their head. Their cheeks were pale. Their hands cold and clammy. But the thing that scared Aiden most of all about Grace Miller’s dead corpse, was that she was lying in her blood, and even dead, it was still seeping out of the long knife wound in her ribcage. 

When almost everyone in the neighbourhood had arrived, Aiden was quietly led to the side of the crime scene to calm down and stop shaking. No matter how hard he tried, the image of Grace’s dead body lying on the stained cobblestones wouldn’t leave his mind. When the body was gone, and most of the townsfolk had cleared out of the alley, Aiden saw Mr Arison approach him, slowly, with a cup of tea in hand. 

He offered him the tea, saying it was to calm him down, then, when he was sure Aiden was listening, he sat next to him and began to speak: “When I was younger, people who I thought were my friends, who were so close to me I considered them family, decided to play a prank on me, never mind what it was, but a harmless little prank. One thing led to another and by the end of the day my sister was dead, she had been a victim to this ‘harmless prank’. My friends insisted they were sorry and would never have hurt her or me on purpose, it was supposed to be funny they said. So I pretended to forgive them just like they pretended to be my friends, years passed, and then when I had my opportunity to get revenge on the conductor of the pranks, on my ‘friend’ Lucy, I took it.” Aiden didn’t understand why he was being told this until he heard the name Lucy. Lucy Miller.

“Aiden, I’ve always liked you,” Mr Arison continued, “and you were a spectacular bartender, but ever since last summer, I’ve been wary of you, I knew you’d seen me with Lucy, and thought it was only a matter of time before you told someone, but you were loyal to me, and trusting, which I admire, however know that you’ve no doubt put to and two together about Grace’s unfortunate death I am forced to do something about you. But first, let me tell my method.” Aiden was filled with dread, and tried to get up off the floor and find someone to help him, when he realised that he had lost feeling in his legs, in his arms, everywhere. Un-noticing, Mr Arison carried on. “First I give them a drink, and it’s laced with this marvellous poison that makes them numb, their hand go cold and clammy, and they get disorientated, then, when they are at their weakest and most vulnerable, with this knife I keep on me at all times, which I lace with this poison, I strike.”Horrified, Aiden watched as he pulled out the small glassbottle of dark liquid, with the word poison engraved on the top. ‘I bought this on the day my sister died, and have made sure that not one drop goes to waste. ’ Mr Arison said, smiling. ‘Goodbye Aiden.’ Petrified, Aiden realised what had happened, he had been drugged by Mr Arison, the tea he had been given was laced in poison.

His eyes grew heavy, and his eyelids began to droop, closing him off from the world. The last thing Aiden saw was Mr Arisons smirk, as he clutched the glass bottle of his revenge, as the world went dark.