"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."
The beef stew smelled good, and a few spoonfuls was enough for her to know it was definitely five-star. "How'd you learn to cook like this?" she asked. "Were you a chef before?"
"I was, but that was in me younger years." the old man answered with a chuckle. "Though my mom used to say that cooking was something that ran in the family, and after what I found out, I probably have all the reason to believe it."
From under his chair, he took out a small, weathered wooden box. The lock was rusty and loose, and he opened it, revealing a letter. "This was from my great-great uncle Basil Romaine, who worked in the Royston household as a cook." he said. "Me eyes ain't as good as it used to be, so if you would kindly read it, that'd be appreciated."
She narrowed her eyes as she tried to make out the contents of the letter. It said something along the lines of "handsome compensation" and "busy at the kitchen." "Hmm... from what I can understand, he's probably writing home, telling his family about how his life is like in the Royston kitchen." she said. "He said he was being paid very well, but he's usually busy in the kitchen."
"Aye, he was quite the cook." the old man said. "His brother, my other great-great uncle Emile was one of the servants who cleaned the house and did the errands. Heard they'd been part of the Royston household since they were teenagers but I'm not sure."
"And with them being servants, they might have heard most of the things that took place in the household." she said, to which the old man nodded in response.
"For sure, they did." he answered, taking a swig from his coffee. "Servants are known to always hear and see everything that happens in the household. There was a story that went 'round in my family that my great-great uncles were polar opposites."
"In what way?"
"Well, Uncle Basil and Uncle Emile both had different perspectives on the Royston household." the old man began. "Uncle Emile worked for them, yes, and he was quite in favor of Dorothy Stein being married into the family, but Uncle Basil seemed to feel otherwise."
"He didn't like Dorothy?"
"According to the stories, yes." he answered. "Basil wasn't a fan of Dorothy when she arrived at the household. Out of the two, he was the more superstitious one, and always believed that newcomers were harbingers of bad luck."
"Not really following that, but okay. So... he didn't serve her or anything like that?"
"No, no. He still served her, as he was the cook of the house. But there was no shortage of complaints, according to some of Uncle Emile's letters."
He took out a small, weathered envelope with the name "Daisy" on the front. He opened it carefully and revealed another letter. The handwriting was neater compared to Basil's. "Here's Emile's letter to Daisy, their sister, my great-great aunt." He handed to her.
Dearest Daisy,
I hope you are doing well. Working at the Royston household has always been a joy, although there are days I yearn for the simplicity of home, but alas, you know I do this for our family as well.
Master Lucas had passed away all of a sudden. Some say poison, while others say assassination on the grounds of Master Michael's jealousy. Which act did him in, I cannot say, but I am worried about what happened. As of now, Master Michael is poised to take over the family business with Lucas' death. I am elated, but I cannot help but feel something is amiss.
Soon we will also be expecting a visitor, the fiancée of Master Michael. I await to see what happens. I'll write to you again when time permits.
With love,
Emile
"Emile is a lot more perceptive than even his brother gives him credit for." the old man said. "He knows when things are off, and most of the time, his gut feel isn't wrong."
"So he knows more than what an average servant does?" she asked.
"Not really." he answered. "However, he soon gets to learn that kind of information since other servants don't exactly keep their mouths shut. Here, take a look at this." There was another letter in the box he handed to her. Carefully, she opened it, and it said:
Dearest Daisy
How fortunate am I to be able to write to you again. As always, working in the Royston household is quite a chore but nothing I cannot manage. Unfortunately, a tragedy has struck our town. If I were to believe what the other servants are saying in the kitchen, there was poisoning in the water mill. Several people in the village died after drinking the water that came from there.
To be honest, I'm not sure what to believe anymore. I noticed that Master Michael has been up into the wee hours of the night, looking over paperwork detailing workplace deaths and accidents, and then this disaster with the water mill.
I am safe, and so is Basil, though he's too stubborn to write home, but I'll keep you updated on what's been happening. Do take care of yourself.
With love,
Emile
"Water mill poisoning?"
"Yes, there was an incident at the old Royston Water Mill, just on the outskirts of town, that the water had been poisoned. Some say it was sabotage from a disgruntled worker but whatever the truth was, no one's ever gonna find out anyway." the old man answered with a shrug. "Well, this definitely hurt the Roystons' reputation, given that well over a hundred people drank and died from that water. Back then, that's a huge number in itself."
"Has anyone ever tried to investigate?" she asked, to which the old man shook his head.
"Nah." he answered. "Like I said, if you have the coin, you can shut people up. It's possible that the family's paid a generous sum to the town police, and even the police force in the neighboring towns, to not look into the matter. That's why the news of the poisoning had been limited to this town only. You try to look for it, there's a lot of cover-ups, from employee sabotage, to natural bacterial growth. I ain't no scientist, but I also have a feelin' foul play is involved."
"Do you think the water mill is accessible? I may as well take a look." she said. "Sadly not, missy. Town police kept it closed, and the structure itself is highly unstable because of time. Wouldn't want you getting buried along with its secrets."
He offered her another bowl of stew. "Now, I know I shouldn't be pokin' in other people's business but riddle me this, why are you lookin' for the Roystons?"
"Their story holds quite the intrigue in the city." she replied. "And if we get more information on them, we can update history! Though of course, it comes at the price of being vilified or vindicated."
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
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
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
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.
"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