Forgotten Time: Part One

There is a mansion of gothic Victorian elegance, hidden behind a tidy garden and a high iron fence that stops any unwilling soul wandering up the driveway to the ornate porch which shield the front door from the elements of bitter winters and cursed April showers.

Now you might think this is a house that would seem like any other that littered the edges of a street within town, but this mansion is on a hill over looking nothing but a forest. Oh yes a road leads off to the mansion from the bustling coastal town, but no one ventures to this forest, no one is foolish enough to venture near this mansion, it is haunted and cursed. The towns folk all tell their children, holiday makers and new comers alike "Do not venture to the forest, do not walk the cursed soil of that forgotten mansion." For this mansion is anything but a romantic fairy tale.

I was nearing thirty, I knew the stories all too well and still I craved to see that forest, to see that beautiful mansion. Pictures from dusty aged new papers were not enough to curb that curiosity that would eat away at my mind during the darkness of night. I know if I ventured to that mansion it would either lead me to the asylum or that I would most likely never breath outside its walls again, for so many stories are rumoured about this mansion that any with a curious mind would want to find out the truth, let alone proof that it was even real.

You may sit there reading this tale of fantasy, but I'm the one that lived it, I'm the one that ventured into the cursed forest, within those haunted unforgettable walls of a mansion at the heart of my curiosity. What I write here, in this story book upon your lap, is not only the horror that be fell such a beautiful mansion, the horror that be fell me, but also the cruel truth of how magic and time should never be mixed with love.

As I said before I was nearly thirty when I made the unreasonable choice to visit the forest and the mansion at its heart. I drove in my classic jaguar e type, its soft silvery blue colour glittering in the early golden haze of dawn as I travelled the road east of the market square of town, taking a road that to those who would merely glance at it would assume that it is nothing more that a dirt track that led up to a farm. But this is the road that leads down into the valley towards a river that feeds the forest before mindlessly curve the landscape heading out to sea. There is a bridge that once crossed there is no way of turning back, it as at this moment that I stop the car, clutching the steering wheel in my hands, my soft pink nails lightly digging into the palms of my closed hands. My eyes are to busy looking out the window towards that of a cobbled stone bridge that once would rattle with the sound of horse shoes and carriage wheels, now it would rumbling under the tiers of my out of era car and I know that once I cross this bridge I would most likely be trapped, my car would no doubt run out of fuel sooner or later alone this road and I would have to finish most of the journey on foot, this forest that stood with tall trees almost starving any light from the morning sun that rose behind me from entering deep into the woodland.

I had waited long enough as I once again start the engine of my car and with a deep breath begin to drive across this bridge that seems almost locked in time, forgotten with no maintenance, no modern touch.

It seems like hours have gone by, and they most likely have, when my car finally spluttered into silence, its once roaring engine now nothing but a ghost of a life I have left behind for the pure speculation of proofing that those rumours are wrong. I step out of the car pulling the keys from the ignitions lord knows why they will be of no use with no fuel, as I place the keys in my pocket and begin to wander up the road I know its not that far to that haunted mansion I can see it looming up on the small hill. It's odd that the trees only seem to grow round that hill and not on it, its as if the trees themselves know of some unspeakable force that even scares them, but while my mind is lost in my own thoughts my feet continue to carry me alone the path but although I'm alone I can not help but feel watched.

The forest itself is silent, there are no birds with a sweet song, no whisper of a breeze, not even the crackle of crunching leaf's under foot. It's as if this place is as they all say haunted and cursed, or maybe the roar of my car has scared the birds to silence, I am after all a trespasser in this almost untouched corner of nature, but still I continue to follow the path, not once looking behind me just focusing forward focusing on that mansion getting closure and closure.

It most be midday now, I can see the sun in the clear blue sky as it shines down of the dark forest which swallow's any light. It's here that I finally realises that I managed to walk all the way up the hill to the large iron gates of this forgotten mansion, and yet there is an element of me that want's to go closure almost rushing throw without really paying attention to what is before me.

These iron gates stand tall painted black with no signs of rust or decay, for a forgotten mansion this seems very well kept as though there is something brave enough or foolish enough to tend this mansion with all its negative stories and rumours. Who would truly be brave enough to tend a magicians home after he disappeared due to the death of his beloved sweetheart, its well known the magician never married her he promised to and had a date planned for such a elegant wedding only to be destroyed by her death. It has never truly been made clear how she died just that she died in the mansion, the rumour is that the magicians magic was what killed her, no body was ever displayed in a wake of mourning and she was quickly buried as if she was never truly found, that it was merely said she died to keep the peace from nosy villagers.

It is similar to the magician because no one really knows what happened to him, he merely kept to the mansion and everyone over time assumed he had died. But as I stood there gazing up at the well kept ground behind the iron gate and its adjoining fence I knew there must be someone brave enough to tend this controversial building with such mystery of unknown expectations.

I had not noticed that I had already walked through the large gate that clanged shut behind me, I can only imagine that at one time these gates would of been wide be open for those elegant carriages that would of visited this wonderous home. It is clear by the grandeur of this mansion that there was money and wealth to this family, but wealth can not save anyone from grief or death.

I followed the driveway to the main entrance of the mansion, a large fountain stands at the centre of this driveway before the steps of the porch, its clear that this was once the sight of great welcoming view and for much of a showman to showcase to the households guests.

I take a few moments to look up at the porch were once welcoming guests to the house would of no doubt been met by a high ranking maid or a butler, but that seems very much gone but does not shift the feeling that I'm not alone, that feeling of being watched is more evident than before and as I carefully walked up the steps with my hand slowly outstretched to the large knocker of the door, hoping that there may well be someone inside that could answer. The large knocker falling back against its plate on the door a few times while I stand for a few moments hoping that I'm not alone, but alas no one opens the door as my hand once again reaches out towards the door but this time turning the large handle, carefully and rather easily pushing the door open.

This seems all too easy and all to well kept, yet why did no one answer the door? Clearly something was not right here but I could not tell what it was and I was too foolish to really care as I rushed inside the mansion hall taking a great breath of achievement.

Too be continued...