No way, she thought. No way this is his... Maybe her vampire theory wasn't so far off, but it still didn't make sense, much like anything else that had been happening lately. She opened the coffin and there was nothing inside. No body, no bones... it was empty, save for a small wooden box. Quickly, she opened it and found a small newspaper clipping which was barely legible, but said something along the lines of several deaths due to poisoned water. There was also a note which was easier to read. In a hurry, she took it and quickly read it. It said:
This is to report the total losses of the Royston Mill. For the past half month, we have not been able to meet the sales target of $15,000. Furthermore, the reports of deaths due to water and chemical poisoning are increasing.
Covering this up is difficult at this point. Questions are pouring in from the local paper and the concerned families. Write to me as soon you can. This is bad, very bad.
Death? Cover-up? It sounded puzzling but her mind returned to the letter she found in Dorothy's coffin. Dark secrets and darker hearts are involved. She took the box's contents and looked for a way out. The crypt was eerie, and despite her being the only living being there, she felt as if there were plenty of eyes looking at her.
She wasn't wrong.
Wisps of smoke surrounded her, some of it blocking the small tunnel and the only door leading to the exit. In fear, she hid behind one of the coffins, but there was no hiding from that smoke. She noticed that the smoke cloud dispersed into smaller clouds, then began to take shape, and slowly the smoke took on human form.
They were quite translucent but she can tell that their clothes were from different periods, from early Victorian to the turn of the century. One of them, a man wearing a ruined dress shirt and seemed to have several stab wounds on his chest and torso, approached her.
"Why... are you here?" he asked, his voice so raspy it was akin to nails being scratched across a chalkboard. "What... are you... doing... here?" She was staring wide-eyed as the spectre approached her until their faces were within inches. She could...somehow make out his facial features, and despite any sort of definitiveness due to his smoky form, she could somehow tell that he resembled Michael, only a bit younger.
"Who...are you?" she asked, trembling. "Are you going...to kill me?" The spirit threw his head back and laughed, the handful of spirits echoing him.
"Kill... you? No, of course not." he said, and his form shifted. He now looked alive, and she was right that he resembled a much younger version of Michael. "Pardon my manners and I apologize for giving you such a fright. My name... is Lucas de Almeida Royston."
"Lucas..." she muttered. Then it her. "You're Michael's younger brother?" He nodded.
"Yes indeed." he said. "Sadly no one knows about me too much, so it's quite an honor you are aware of my presence. Now who might you be? You look... familiar."
"Oh, I'm just a traveling investigative journalist." she said with a tired smile. "Then I just... found myself here."
"There's good reason why you avoid this part of the town." said one of the ghosts, that of a portly old man. "Ever since Michael did what he did, this piece of land is no less than damned! Damned I say!"
"Calm yourself, Jaimé." Lucas said with a sigh. "I apologize for my...companions here. As you can tell, none of us are too happy with the situation."
"What exactly happened? What is going on?" she asked. "Michael's been chasing me and keeping me here, what does he want?"
"One at a time." Lucas said. "Telling you would be confusing... But to show you absolutely everything... you will then understand the truth."
"The truth of this mansion, and the insane master behind it." another ghost, that of a woman, echoed. "The truth... the dark truth... Oh my Lord, how did this come to pass..." The spirit seemingly floated away to the coffins at the back, wailing in pain.
"Mother was hit the hardest by this..." Lucas began. "But you will not understand until you see. I need you to sit down."
"Here? But what if Michael gets here? His coffin is over there!" she retorted, pointing to Michael's empty casket.
"Do not worry. Michael won't be able to get in, I assure you." the younger Royston brother said. "Despite his coffin being there, this is probably the safest place you can be in, next to the old wine cellar. I'm sure Emile has taken you there."
"You know about Emile helping me?"
"Of course! I told him to help you the moment I sensed your presence. It was risky but well worth it. Now, any more questions before we begin?"
"Just one..." she said. "Is it true... that Michael killed you?" Silence, and the specter of Lucas bowed his head as he slowly nodded.
"Yes, that is true." he answered sadly. "Michael was not at all happy to find out that I was to be the heir of the family business. He may be my older brother, but at the time, Father saw differently."
"You mean Michael was crazy?"
"Heavens no." Lucas said. "He just had problems with his rage. It wasn't necessarily madness but it would greatly impede any decision-making skills. I pride myself on being a cool-headed individual, but alas, this was to be mindful. Let me show you."
He covered her eyes and muttered something in an incomprehensible language, and upon removing his hand from her face, the two of them were transported in what seemed to be a home office. It was beautiful and gilded, and adorned with all sorts of expensive-looking china and statuettes. A large painting of the Royston family founder hung above a high-backed oak chair and on it sat a man with a bushy beard and brown hair with gray streaks. He wore a brown and gray suit and he sat with his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes trained on the two young men in front of him.
"This was... you and Michael way back then?" she asked.
"Indeed. This was the day that Father would tell us who inherited the family business." Lucas replied. "The day everything started for him, and ended for me."
- - -
"You two have always been my pride and joy." said the old man. "And I haven't got much time, so I need to decide which of you shall carry on our family's legacy."
The two young men exchanged looks, and waited for their father to continue. "Michael." he said. "You are my eldest son, and I see how skilled and resilient you are." This caused the young Michael to smile, but his father's tone changed. "However... your temper gets the better of you, and in business, emotions should never get in the way of our judgement." Michael was shocked, and couldn't even reply, as his father looked towards Lucas.
"So it falls to you, Lucas, to carry on. Your calmness and ability to work under pressure is something your brother can learn a great deal from. When I pass, you will hold the reins of our family's businesses. I'll have our lawyer draft this and both you and your brother will sign it later tonight. Now, be on your way."
A smile adorned Lucas' face as he was the first to exit the office, while Michael followed behind, his dark eyes brimming with rage. How could his father choose him of all people? Lucas was calm and collected, but that was all he was, at least in Michael's eyes. This has to change, he thought as he made his way to his room. This will all change.
- - -
The vision faded, and Lucas was visibly exhausted and slightly transparent. "Do forgive me, but that takes a lot out of me." he said. "I am projecting my memory, therefore it does exhaust me a great deal."
"I-it's okay!" she answered. "I think I can piece it together from there. Your father chose you to be the next head of the family and Michael was jealous, which led to the murder."
"Correct." he answered, sitting down, but as he did, he was still floating off the ground. "It was rather grisly, but Michael was a master of manipulation and concealment. I'd rather you not see the actual murder; it's too much."
He looked around, and the other spirits seemingly disappeared, but the white smoke still was on the door. "You are safe here." he said softly, patting her shoulder. "You should rest for a bit while I gather my strength again to show you everything that had happened. It's not the most comfortable of places, let alone welcoming, but we don't have much of a choice now, do we?"
She didn't realize how much exhaustion had taken over her until she lied down on the cold, stone floor of the crypt. Her eyes became heavy and once again she drifted off into deep sleep. The dreams started again."Stop this right now! What are you doing?!""Changing things... to how it should be."A sound of a knife, and something heavy falling with a thud on the ground.In the darkness, she ran, trying to follow the sounds and hoping it wasn't too late. It seemed as if she wasn't getting anywhere because only the void and silence surrounded her. Finally she saw it; a light, but very small and faint, at the end of the shadows, but the moment she reached it...
Her head was throbbing. Just when she thought she was safe, she was at the mercy of the insane Michael once again. This time, she found herself lying on the cold, stone floor, her hands and feet tied to wooden posts, her body spread open as if she were a starfish.The rancid smell of rotten flesh and blood made her gag, but she had no time to react as she saw Michael hover over her, his crimson gaze glowing in the dark."I see you're awake, my darling." he said with a smile. "I apologize for being too harsh, but then again, you have forced my hand." In his hand was Dorothy's journal, and he leafed through it, his facial expression changing from a smile to a frown, and an angry scowl as he threw the journal to the side."What do you hope to achieve?" h
"So you've found yourself back here again, have you?" the old man said as he smiled and opened the door for her."Just can't resist the pull of knowledge, I suppose." she answered as she entered the old man's cabin once again."Well, you're just in time, since I did make some beef stew. Let me go get some for us real quick before I continue my story." he said as he hobbled over to the kitchen. She didn't notice him limping before."Did something happen, sir?" she asked. "Your leg...""Ah, it's an accident, lass. Don't pay it any mind." he replied from the kitchen. A few minutes later, he came back with two bowls of beef stew. "It ain't five-star, but it should at least fill you up."
It took a while before her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Where was she? How did she even get there? The last thing she remembered was something hard and blunt hitting her on the back of her head, and then she was out like a light.Now she was here, in some sort of cellar. It smelled damp and rotten, as if someone had been throwing rotten meat in here. I have to get out, she thought. Where do I start? She got to her feet and it took a few steps before she got blood rushing back to her legs. It was so dark that she wasn't sure whether she was touching rotten meat or just some sacks.Finally, her hand fell on something cylindrical. It was a flashlight, judging from the switch she felt. Luckily, the battery hadn't died out as it still turned on. She wasn't far from the door, and she saw a note stuck on it. She ripped the paper off
She woke up in the middle of the night. It was cold, and from what she could tell, it had been raining for a while. She got up, and saw herself in a white night gown. Her reflection looked very different in the mirror; her hair was darker and tied up in a messy bun, and she had cuts above her eyebrow. There was a bruise under her left eye and her lip was cut. What the hell, she thought. Who beat me up?The sounds of angry footsteps echoed throughout the tiny passage and, in a few minutes, Michael Royston stood there, his handsome face contorted in rage. "You're going to leave me?!" he roared, pacing back and forth. "Why would you leave, huh? What gives you the right to do it?" She was silent, his anger shocking her so
She did as Emile said and poured herself a drink despite the glass being dusty. His brother, Basil, still eyed her with suspicion while Emile cleaned the mess."I apologize for my brother's behavior." he said. "He's just a bit... pessimistic.""I cannot blame him." she said. "This place is as terrifying as it is beautiful.""It used to be beautiful." Basil said, his eyes now showing a hint of loneliness. "It was the gem of nobility in these lands. Parties were held nearly every week, and the Master was always happy.""Then what happened?" she asked."Then she happened, that's what!" Basil spat a
Through a small crack in the closet, she looked at who entered the room. Her heart was pounding like a war drum as the figure became more visible as the door closed.To her relief, it was only Emile, and judging from the bucket and broom he carried, it was time to clean yet again. She was hesitant whether to come out of the closet or not, and just chose to observe his actions.- - -"The master has left this room in such disarray again..." he mumbled as he began sweeping away the cobwebs. "Unbelievable... and that smell..." As he swept and swatted the webs away, he heard a knock coming from one of the closets. This immediately made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Clutching his broom tightly, he cautiously made his way towards the old closet, and w
TWO WEEKS AGO"So it's more of an urban legend?""Not really, no. There really was a mansion just past the forest here. It's built atop a hill but I'm not sure if it's still there.""What's the story behind it?"The old man stopped to take a swig of his whiskey and took a drag from his cigar."It's a story no one in town likes to talk about for... well, reasons." he began as he eyed the young lady before him. "It happened long ago, way too long ago that I wasn't even alive, but the story is something that everyone had passed down."His eyes gazed towards the forest, the fog making it barely visible. "The story goes that when this
"So you've found yourself back here again, have you?" the old man said as he smiled and opened the door for her."Just can't resist the pull of knowledge, I suppose." she answered as she entered the old man's cabin once again."Well, you're just in time, since I did make some beef stew. Let me go get some for us real quick before I continue my story." he said as he hobbled over to the kitchen. She didn't notice him limping before."Did something happen, sir?" she asked. "Your leg...""Ah, it's an accident, lass. Don't pay it any mind." he replied from the kitchen. A few minutes later, he came back with two bowls of beef stew. "It ain't five-star, but it should at least fill you up."
Her head was throbbing. Just when she thought she was safe, she was at the mercy of the insane Michael once again. This time, she found herself lying on the cold, stone floor, her hands and feet tied to wooden posts, her body spread open as if she were a starfish.The rancid smell of rotten flesh and blood made her gag, but she had no time to react as she saw Michael hover over her, his crimson gaze glowing in the dark."I see you're awake, my darling." he said with a smile. "I apologize for being too harsh, but then again, you have forced my hand." In his hand was Dorothy's journal, and he leafed through it, his facial expression changing from a smile to a frown, and an angry scowl as he threw the journal to the side."What do you hope to achieve?" h
She didn't realize how much exhaustion had taken over her until she lied down on the cold, stone floor of the crypt. Her eyes became heavy and once again she drifted off into deep sleep. The dreams started again."Stop this right now! What are you doing?!""Changing things... to how it should be."A sound of a knife, and something heavy falling with a thud on the ground.In the darkness, she ran, trying to follow the sounds and hoping it wasn't too late. It seemed as if she wasn't getting anywhere because only the void and silence surrounded her. Finally she saw it; a light, but very small and faint, at the end of the shadows, but the moment she reached it...
No way, she thought. No way this is his... Maybe her vampire theory wasn't so far off, but it still didn't make sense, much like anything else that had been happening lately. She opened the coffin and there was nothing inside. No body, no bones... it was empty, save for a small wooden box. Quickly, she opened it and found a small newspaper clipping which was barely legible, but said something along the lines of several deaths due to poisoned water. There was also a note which was easier to read. In a hurry, she took it and quickly read it. It said:This is to report the total losses of the Royston Mill. For the past half month, we have not been able to meet the sales target of $15,000. Furthermore, the reports of deaths due to water and chemical poisoning are increasing.
She tried to wrench herself free, but his grip was too tight, perhaps unnaturally so, as he dragged her in the middle of the bloody ballroom. She didn't dare look down, as the number of dead bodies scattered all over greatly sickened her. The sound of squelching made her feel so dizzy and she nearly passed out, were it not for Michael talking to her and keeping her from falling."They're nothing but a bunch of liars, hypocrites... parasites, even." he said, his voice dripping with hatred. "But they're gone now... look..." The sea of dead covering the floor was a sickening, horrifying sight. How did Michael even do it?"Let me go, please..." she muttered. "Please... I don't want to be here anymore..." Michael studied her face for a while before grabbing her chin tightly, forcing her to look at all the dead bodies. The smell of b
Her hand was seemingly stuck on the door as the funeral played out in front of her. So far, the guests were already seated. Finally, Michael stepped into the room, wearing an all-black suit. His eyes were a bit red and swollen from crying as he made his way to Dorothy's coffin, caressing the glass panel that separated him from his love. "Dorothy..." he said. "Dorothy, I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you..." He ran his hand across the glass panel, his tears falling onto the surface. "Come, Master, the mass is about to begin..." said a servant as she escorted the grieving man to one of the pews. As the ceremony began, everyone began to fade before her eyes, kind of like smoke dissipating in the wind. The chapel returned to its decrepit state, and all the churchgoe
TWO WEEKS AGO"So it's more of an urban legend?""Not really, no. There really was a mansion just past the forest here. It's built atop a hill but I'm not sure if it's still there.""What's the story behind it?"The old man stopped to take a swig of his whiskey and took a drag from his cigar."It's a story no one in town likes to talk about for... well, reasons." he began as he eyed the young lady before him. "It happened long ago, way too long ago that I wasn't even alive, but the story is something that everyone had passed down."His eyes gazed towards the forest, the fog making it barely visible. "The story goes that when this
Through a small crack in the closet, she looked at who entered the room. Her heart was pounding like a war drum as the figure became more visible as the door closed.To her relief, it was only Emile, and judging from the bucket and broom he carried, it was time to clean yet again. She was hesitant whether to come out of the closet or not, and just chose to observe his actions.- - -"The master has left this room in such disarray again..." he mumbled as he began sweeping away the cobwebs. "Unbelievable... and that smell..." As he swept and swatted the webs away, he heard a knock coming from one of the closets. This immediately made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Clutching his broom tightly, he cautiously made his way towards the old closet, and w
She did as Emile said and poured herself a drink despite the glass being dusty. His brother, Basil, still eyed her with suspicion while Emile cleaned the mess."I apologize for my brother's behavior." he said. "He's just a bit... pessimistic.""I cannot blame him." she said. "This place is as terrifying as it is beautiful.""It used to be beautiful." Basil said, his eyes now showing a hint of loneliness. "It was the gem of nobility in these lands. Parties were held nearly every week, and the Master was always happy.""Then what happened?" she asked."Then she happened, that's what!" Basil spat a