Murder Mansion

By Anastasia Yu

Chapter 1: The Storm

19th October 1930

Dear Diary,

This is the first entry of my journey on discovering the truth of my mother’s death.

A few days before my birth, she had encountered a tragic fall from the roof of our dwelling on a stormy night. Father said she’d attempted suicide, but I do not believe his story. According to my grandmother, Rauna Everton (my mother) was beautiful, wealthy, famous and gorgeously exquisite. Everyone in our village adored her. What in the world had caused her such despondency? Her beauty? Could it have been my very existence?

After her death, many disasters occurred in the village. Numerous died from tragic accidents. After these unfortunate incidents occurred, my father and I left the village, afraid that the fate of the dear villagers would soon become ours.

This is where I am heading now - Greenberg Village. You may think that it is a bright and sunny village, with colorful cottages and beautiful flowers, but the name is not what it suggests. In fact, I consider it the very opposite.

Alas, we have arrived at the village. Let this first entry mark the beginning of my journey.

The doors opened and William Everton stepped off the creaking train. It was already nightfall and the station was barely lit up with a flickering, bent streetlight. The sign saying “Platform” was chipped and hanging off one side.

Clang... Clang... Clang... The clock tower from the village started to chime. As if the clock had given the cloudy sky a cue, a heavy storm started to downpour on the station. Crackle! Rumble! William dashed out of the roofless station, searching for cover from the storm. Snap! As if by magic, the lightning lit up the outlines of a massive mansion. William was certain that it had not been there before. He gazed in awe at the humongous structure towering over him like a giant. It had tall, slim black turrets reaching towards the stormy grey clouds. The many windows of the mansion were covered in dust and soot, as if the house hadn’t been lived in for many years. Vines crawled up the grey brick walls of the manor like thin snakes, searching for prey. The clock tower struck twelve as he raced towards the doorsteps of the manor.

Desperately hoping for someone to give him a place for refuge in this frightening storm, he rapped on the door.

“Hello?” He yelled, pounding on the grey, wooden door. Without any warning whatsoever, the great door slowly opened with a long, loud creak, revealing what seemed to be a shadow of an old man. His face was hidden in the shadows. William was startled. He did not hear footsteps approaching the door before it opened. It was almost like the man knew he was going to turn up on his doorstep.

Without speaking a word, he turned away from the door, leaving it ajar. Was this an invitation for him to enter? After a while of considering, he decided to enter the gloomy mansion.

“H-hello?” He stepped inside. His trembling voice echoed around the main hall. The interior of the manor gave William more shivers than his wet and soggy clothing. It was barely lit up with flickering candle lights. The floor was lined with a thin, worn-out, coal-black carpet with holes that exposed the creaking wooden floorboards underneath. Above on the ceiling hang a majestic chandelier with cobwebs and dust that covered the hundreds of dangling crystals.

“M-my name is William Everton, I-”

“Everton, you say?” Another voice echoed around the hall. Startled, William swivelled around rapidly, attempting to locate the source of the voice. Then, he saw it. A shadow was looming in the corner, and it was coming closer… closer… closer…

Chapter 2: Eldritch Trescoth

The shadow shrunk as the figure revealed itself from the shadows. It was indeed the old man, but his appearance was not what William had expected.

It was thin and bony, with extremely pale skin drooping at the sides. There were countless amounts of scars that scratches and cuts had left behind. These imperfections and defects caused his dazzling blue eyes to stand out like sapphires in a coal mine. William noticed that around the man’s neck hung a blood-red gem the size of a fist. It was so translucent, so flawless that not a single scratch was laid upon the jewel.

An old fashioned black dress robe draped down his hunched shoulders; his glare and a crooked smile made him seem inauspicious and malevolent, yet heartbroken and sorrowful. It seemed as if he had gone through great despair and grief, and he wanted the cause of his pain to suffer the most terrible fate; perhaps even death.

“Do… you know my name?”

“Yes... but that won’t matter now. What do you want?” The old man demanded as he circled Willam, taking shuffling steps and studying every detail of William’s body. “Aha! I know! You want a place to stay in this storm, do you?” It was as if the old man had read William’s mind. He stopped orbiting William. “Of course!” The old man suddenly exclaimed. “There are rooms on the second floor. Make yourself home! The only request from me would be to not enter the third floor. It... is my private quarters.”

“Thank… you…”

The unforeseen niceness of the man was dubious, but at least I have a place to stay, he thought.

“My name is Eldritch Trescoth. Welcome to Trescoth Manor, Mr Everton.” He stretched out his long wrinkled hand.

Chapter 3: The Portrait

As William made his way along the hallway cautiously, shivering from his damp clothing, William glanced around. There were portraits of wealthy men hung up on the walls. They seemed to be staring at William as he passed each portrait. Assuring himself that they were only illusions, Willam shrugged off the thought and continued along the hallway. At the very end of the hall was a door. Its door knob was broken and knocked off, so William pushed on the door.

What he saw inside was something he had never envisioned to encounter in this mansion. He gasped.

A portrait of his mother in a stunning gown with a glowing red gem hanging from her neck was attached on the wall behind the black canopy bed.

To be continued in the next edition...