Amelia the Historian of Ravenswood

In the heart of the mist-covered moors, there stood a forgotten manor, its crumbling facade adorned with ivy and secrets. The villagers whispered of its cursed past, of the tragic family that once called it home, and of the darkness that lurked within its walls. Ravenswood, the sign had written, population 1,030. Below that was another that read; Ravenswood Asylum 1 Miles Northwest, Ravenswood Manor East 2 Miles. Written below the Manor was a barely legible handwritten note that read, “rent erode ton” there seemed to be more, but the writing was too faded for her to read.

Amelia was a young historian and new addition to Ravenswood, having been requested by the towns mayor specifically, she stood there in front of the sign and reminded herself that despite the local talk that she heard upon arrival at the airport, or the train ride to get here, or the horse drawn cart that made the final leg of the journey to the sign where she was dropped off and the man’s wife gave her a small prayer and gift to keep the ‘evil at bay,’ Amelia just dismissed it all as a local legend or superstition. As a young historian, she wanted to remember it all this way she could recite the tales and know the truth of it all.

Ignoring the warnings of the locals, she made her way with her curiosity overshadowing the dread that looms around her. Hearing the sound of the horse and cart in the distance made her understand that she was now completely on her own. A small shadow overcast her and the chill in the air gave her a small jolt. It was nothing that she had not heard about, as the villagers talked about the small warnings and to remembering that it was all just superstition, the bleak sharpness of the dark and yet seeing a shadow overcasting itself, even of it were but a moment, reminded her that not all superstitions are supernatural, as they generally have an explanation of some kind. She looked around, her mind had yet to begin the tricks of sight, after hearing the tales from the locals for days on end, she kept her mind headstrong looking for the cause of shadow and how it could be visible in the darkness that overtook the area.

She spied a small bird flap its wings and the caw it made gave Amelia a small laugh inside of herself. Though the sudden sound from the bird made her jump, it was more due to her thinking so intently upon the folklore of the area. She thought on it too much. She flipped on her torch that she carried with her and spotted the bird, its eyes shining brightly in the light. As soon as she took her eyes off from it she heard it flap its wings and with a small sound, it took flight, and she watched it fly off into the distance.

Her light moved around following the path from her eyes, she had found the old tree that was ready to fall but seemed to have enough life within it to keep it standing a little while longer. It overshadowed a small series of stone steps that along the sides had small metallic rails, they looked ancient and rusty, weather taking care of the breakdown, the steps were looking unsteady and yet inviting. She moved the torch again following her eyes. After scanning the area, the only path forward was the stone steps, going back to the where she was dropped off was not an option for her, yet, when she did look back at the place, there was a bright white mist that seemed to give off an ominous glow and it seemed to be approaching her at a fast pace. She walked up the steps. The sounds of the gravel crunching under her boots was the only sound that rang out. She did not touch the rails, nor did she feel she needed to, a small misstep and she would have had to, luckily for her she did not need to. She reached the top of the steps and looked down the path she walked. She wanted to make sure all the sights to be seen in her torch light were seen and to remind herself to come back down once the sun had risen.

She crept forward slowly listening to the haunting sounds of the forest coming to life. It was as if the mere presence of this girl made the forest talk about her, a gave Amelia slight pause in thinking that the forest was talking about her, an odd feeling, and she chose to ignore. Her torch fell upon more steps leading upward into a Manor that shown more of a decrepit outlook, the wood frame of the building have been riling for some time, Amelia noticed, and pieces of it had fallen. It gave off more of a monstrous appearance than it once did. When it was livable and lively. Though the initial side of the place did give Amelia the thought of not entering, but she was summoned here for a reason, and she wanted to do her investigation and give it its full due diligence. The door was hanging loose as she got closer to it and noticed that a slight gust of wind could give the door the creaking nature and sound of screen as if the hinges on it were not oiled, she pushed the door slowly and reconciled that she was right. The screen the door gave off was so loud and terrifying. It gave caution to the birds that flew off in all types of squawking manner.

Her torch light beamed inward, the once lavish and lush red velvet carpet adorned with gold and silver specs was nothing more than a few pieces left where the rest had rotted indicate away. The hallways lanterns were still hung and seemed to be lacking something to get them to spark aflame. The only light she was able to have was from her torch light. The small white beam bounced from wall to wall along the wood surface, yet when she pointed it in front of her could barely cut into the darkness. Inside the house itself. They felt damp and bleak as if the hope of the residence had already long gone when the mansion itself, the Manor to which they called it had already been decaying leaving itself to rock. She had thought herself silly for the moment when she started listening and believing the sounds and things of the village had said. She had found that one of those ideas were something easily debunked. An oil can could affix the door. Maybe some oil could fix the lantern and let it shine more and do them periodically throughout the house and maybe at that point she would be able to see easier. However, she knew it would be asking much and probably too much for some small village to be able to recover so she went against those initial thoughts but wrote them down a small Journal.

The drawers that line the hallway were thrown about as if someone had been in rummaging through the house and terrorizing it in their wake like something grave robber wandering through an old tomb of the pharaohs. She paused for a moment and gave a small sigh which was more of an expression of frustration. Frustration. The fact that she was called here, and she was able to debunk a lot of the things that they were telling her. But the one thing that she could not figure out was the idea and thought of some sort of specter haunting the premises. There were no such thing as ghosts, ghouls, and goblins, so why would a specter be hunting a place that is so decrepit that there is not even a memory or an idea? She walked on in her torch light began affecting as if it was running out of batteries, the torch light itself dimming and trying to repower itself but dimming more and growing darker and darker.

She heard footsteps behind her. It was as if someone was running and playing games behind her, but there was no one there, she knew that she had come alone, she was not expecting anybody to meet her here, but still the pitter patter of footsteps running where there was no place to run gave Amelia cause for notice an alarm. The footstep she could not explain not answer firelight was dimming of her torch. Nor did she teach honestly care to. She could not tell herself exactly why she did not want to bother trying to explain it, she just knew the thought of it was something that she definitely wanted to keep to herself. She moved forward, and in that movement her body had slowed down as if her body was itself was acting on its own. The stillness in itself was what was bothering her the most. Amelia’s heartbeat and breath were the only sounds that she could hear. Her breath was starting to race in tighten against itself as well as her heartbeat doing the same thing. Amelia had an innovative idea why the people had warned her against coming to this Manor, not only was it that she was able to see and understand what was going on. Why such things were the way they were but also that the haunting feeling that was emerging from within her would engage the mind into thinking things were there that were not. She laughed at herself and said aloud that there is nothing here but a decrepit old building that is falling apart.

“If that is the case,” said a voice from behind the wall, “then why is it I am still here.”