The Story of Lonzel Manor

by Decedric Williams

The Story of Lonzel Manor
Photo by Liz Weddon on Unsplash

ON A DARK AND MOON FILLED NIGHT, AN EERIE SILENCE FILLED

THE AIR. IT HAD BEEN 15 YEARS TO THE DAY THAT ROSEMARY LONZELL WAS THE VICTIM OF HER OWN HAND. LEGEND HAS IT THAT ROSEMARY WAS SO HEARTBROKEN WHEN THE LOVE OF HER LIFE LEFT HER. ANYWAY, I’VE HEARD STORIES OF THE MANOR BEING HAUNTED, BUT I BRUSHED IT OFF, LAUGHED IT OFF, WHATEVER; I

DIDN’T BELIEVE IT. NOT UNTIL TONIGHT.

I decided to spend the night in the old manor to prove to myself, and to others that there is nothing to fear; no paranormal activity was going to happen, neither has happened. So I packed a few clothes and brought some food and bottles of water because, come on, no one has lived her in 15 years. I arrived at the house and as I started walking up the stairs, a cold wind went past my face and when I looked around to check my surroundings, in the window stood a woman with the face of a porcelain doll, and hair curly and red like the evening sunset. I waved, she disappeared. Everything in me said leave, but curiosity pushed me forward.

I slowly opened the door to the abandoned house and all of the furniture was filled with cobwebs and dust. On the walls was written “My heart shall no more long for love, neither shall it feel another painful beat.” As I read the sorrowful words, a slow moving shadow passed by me, crying, longing. It was as if love itself was broken.

I followed the heartbreaking sound and nervously said, “Rosemary?” The crying stopped. My hands turned cold as if I had stuck my hands in a bucket of ice. My hair stood on the back of my neck, I could see my breath. “Rosemary, is that you?” I asked, trying not to sound scared. A slow and eerie “Yes” passed by my ears almost in a seductive manner.

“Why were you crying? Who made you sad?” Suddenly, a feeling of rage and anger came in the room. “HIM!” She screamed. “He left me! He told me he loved me, and he left me!”

“Who? Who left you?”

“My fiancé!” A picture of her fiancé flew across the room and shattered as it hit the wall. Then another.

Trying to calm her down and not to get hit by the flying objects, I asked. “What can I do to help you? What do you need me to do?” She was quiet, then the cold feeling. I knew she was close to me, in front of me. As I stood there looking, it was almost I could see her, but it wasn’t the person I saw in the window. She was becoming visible to me. Her eyes wear blue like the ocean, her hair was as strings of gold. She smiled, my heart beat faster as if I had ran 2 miles full speed; full of nervous excitement.

“Help me.” She whispered. “

“Anything.” I answered. Not knowing what I was agreeing to but my heart felt sorry for her.

“Help me to love again. Help me not to be alone.” I could tell in her voice that she was still carrying the hurt from the breakup. Expecting my hand would pass through, her hand, I reached for her. She reached for my hand. Whether the stars were aligned perfectly I don’t know, but I felt her hand and she mine. How could this be? How is it that we are able to touch one another? Hold one another? Could my heart going out to her and wanting to help her be that strong? Do I love her?.....Or am I dead too?

She looked at me with a pitiful yet hopeful gleam in her eyes. I was suddenly frightened by the reality that I can see her, touch her, and my fear grew intense as I pondered my love for her. I thought running away was the best option, so I did. She screamed with such an ear-piercing scream that it knocked me to my knees. “No! I will not be left alone again!” I felt her anger as a hot iron on my neck. I scrambled to my feet. I tried to run again. “I will not be hurt again!” The room turned a deep red color as the color of blood. I reached for the doorknob. I tried to turn it, but it was stuck. I ran to the window, they had bars on them that weren’t there before. “NO! You will be mine! Dead or alive! I swear!” She demanded. “I can’t. I replied.” It would never work between us!”

“LIAR! I saw your heart! You love me!”

“No.” I nervously replied. “I only felt sorry for you. I don’t love you....not the way you want me to. I care for you, I care about you, but I don’t love you.”

Silence. Eerie silence. I looked around. It felt like the calm before the storm. I braced myself. It was as if I knew that this was how it ends. My life. My goals and dreams. It all ends today. I felt heat. The heat of anger. Then laughter. Psychotic laughter. My body now in cold sweat. My heart is beating in my throat. The frightened beat of my heart fuels her. She feeds off my fear like a lion feeding on a fresh kill. I ran down the hall as fast as I could. “This is my house, you idiot! You can run but you can’t hide.” She said tauntingly. “Actually, you can’t even run. I know your every move. I can feel your thoughts.” I find an old air duct in the wall that looked like it hasn’t been dusted in years. I quietly pull the grate off and crawl in, closing it behind me. I crawl through the duct hoping to find an escape. I hear what seems to be an iron pipe dragging the floor. “Where are you?” She said as if she knew but was playing a game of cat and mouse

She starts pounding the walls with the pipe. “I will find you baby!” “Come here. I just want to talk to you.” “Can you come here please?” She said menacingly.

Crawling through the duct I found daylight. I apparently came to an outside vent. I kicked at the iron grate until it fell to the ground. It was a little ways down, but not too far so I slid down a copper pipe on the side of the house and when I got close enough to the ground I dropped. When my feet hit the ground I started running. I ran hard and I ran fast. “I told you, you can’t hide from me!” I turned around to see Rosemary hovering over the roof of the old abandoned house.

“What do you want from me?!” I shouted. “I have nothing to offer you!” “But you do.” She replied with a devilish grin on her face. “Your life.” Why do you want to kill me? I’m not the reason you killed yourself!” Taking your life because of a man was stupid!” Everything in me told me that I shouldn’t have said that. Not at all. Suddenly, she screamed like a banshee. Dark clouds formed and her eyes turned red like fire. The ground violently shook underneath me. The wind blew hot and strong. I felt as if I was in the belly of Hell. She came charging at me like a raging bull. “My life for yours! Your life in place of mine!”

I ran to my car and scrambled to find my keys. All the while she was coming fast. One mission was on her mind and that was me dead. I found my keys and started the car. I slammed on the gas and drove as fast as I could. I looked in my rear view mirror...nothing. Surely she didn’t give up that easily? I didn’t care. I was just glad to finally get away from her. I topped speeds of 60 mph not caring about getting pulled over, I just wanted out. Now. Feeling relieved that she gave up, I slowed down to the speed limit of 45 mph. I felt a jolt in my car as if someone had rear ended me. I angled my rearview mirror. No car. Maybe I hit something. Another jolt. This time, it was harder than the first. I see in my mirror two eyes, cold, black eyes. Empty eyes as if the seed of wrath had set in. I picked up speed again to try to lose her. My car starts going faster than what I’m wanting. She is pushing my car!

I tried to bail out but the doors where jammed. The jolting. That’s what she was doing. Jamming my doors. I slam on my brakes. The car was going so fast that when I slammed on my brakes, the rubber burned off the wheel. “Your life! I want your life!” An 18-wheeler was hurdling down the road and Rosemary was pushing my car straight into its path.

Trying to miss the truck, I swerved and ran into a tree. I regain consciousness and gathered myself. Slightly dazed, but okay, I looked around. Rosemary was nowhere to be found. In anger I called her actually hoping she would answer. Silence. I checked in the mirror to access my damages. There she was in my mirror! “Get out of my......””NO!” I touched my face. I blinked. Now I know why she said “My life for yours.” She is me!

While I was unconscious, Rosemary took my body. My life. The next morning’s paper read “Rosemary’s ghost claims life. Victim not found.”

Her front door closes. Then laughter!

urban legend
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Love Writing A Latte

My name is Decedric Williams, and I am the owner and operator of Love Writing A Latte. What started out as just a dream, with a cup of coffee and a laptop, became reality! Let me help you tap into your creative side one sip at a time!

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