Uncovered

In the remote village of Rollinbray, the villagers lived with a pervasive fear held over their heads. At the center of their worry was a forsaken house that stood at the forest's heart, a mansion whose name was whispered in hushed, fearful tones: the Draymoore Mansion. The townsfolk were concerned that speaking the name would summon the darkness within it and bring it forth. Many were content to pretend it didn’t exist and never speak of it. The problem often fell to the ones who didn’t believe and purposely antagonized the mansion. Children loved daring each other to enter the forest and find the mansion - though it often remained shrouded in trees and fog. The successful ones risked not returning at all.

The mansion was once grand and respected, but it had been abandoned for years, it’s glory long decayed. Locals said that the mansion was cursed, most likely haunted by it’s previous in habitants. The names of said residents had been long forgotten, though some who dared enter the house had their distorted faces burned into their memories - and often nightmares - forever. Even when someone was brave enough to enter and approach the house, they never lasted long and none had managed to unlock the history or any of its secrets.

One moonless night, a young, curious historian and journalist named Emily arrived in Rollinbray with her equally enthusiastic companion, Trevor. She had heard the legends of the Draymoore Mansion and was determined to uncover the truth behind the many iconic stories. She was fascinated by the lack of information the town had on the place. When probed for information, locals were hesitant to comply. Many refused.

All Emily could gather was that the town thought it to be dangerously cursed. Many thought it had to do with one old owner, who reportedly never left it after her young husband died. They assume she died there, too, and most couldn’t even recall her name. It was located deep in the forest, to the point many couldn’t even find it if they tried. Many were nervous to even say the name, as if this would bring bad luck or release something terrible. They also spoke fearfully of several cases of folks who had managed to cross its borders but never returned.

While this attitude and series of reactions were fascinating to witness, Emily wasn’t at all surprised. This was hardly her first time investigating something spooky, haunted, or “cursed” and no one ever liked facing it. That’s what kept her in business - she dared to do what the locals never did and she always got a good story out of it. Most mysterious happenings and sightings had a logical answer - bad plumbing, wild animals, drifters, and the like. But, she couldn’t deny the few times she hadn’t been able to come up with anything.

She’d started with various local residents and shop owners, but she had saved one particular interview for last. While not much could be found online or among records, she did track down one person who used to be registered to the address. Mrs. Nancy Collins, now about 93 years old. Not much else could be found about her besides a previous residency at Draymoore.

As she and Trevor settled into their quaint little room for the night, she couldn’t help but feel a familiar mix of nerves and excitement for what tomorrow may bring.

“Good morning miss” the gentleman said with a smile as Emily arrived in the dining room for a quick breakfast. She sat down with a coffee and bagel and took out her notes, going over them one more time.

“So, I’ll go talk to Mrs. Collins, you check out the library and see if there’s any mention of the place in local records, old papers - anything at all. Librarians tend to be up on town gossip, too, so see if they’ll talk.” She said as she passed some notes over to Trevor. “This is all I could find. From an old directory, some high-schooler drew up and posted for a history project. Nancy Collins owned the house years ago, but there’s no paper trail and no other names. She’s still here, though. Never left town once she moved in, apparently.”

“Definitely a weird one. I’ll see what I can find, and be careful with the old woman. Who knows how bitter she is about her old house and all its legends!”

“Yeah for sure. I’m on top of it.”

With that, they parted ways and Emily prepared to speak to the mysterious Nancy Collins.

She rehearsed the questions in her head as she drove, hoping Mrs. Collins would be as open and transparent as she sounded on the phone. While she liked to wander around and interview whatever locals would speak with her, she planned ahead for important characters like this. Given the general consensus of the town, she was surprised when the woman so readily agreed to speak with her - she seemed excited, even.

With anxious butterflies dancing in her stomach, she walked up the overgrown path and knocked on the ancient-looking door. It opened as if on cue, and widened to reveal a small but friendly-looking woman with a mug of tea in hand.

“You must be Ms. Emily. Come in, dear, and make yourself at home.” The woman said as she further opened the door and stepped aside.

Emily made a point to look around as she entered, noting the elaborate, vintage decor and old-fashioned style. It felt very homey, classy, and comfortable.

“So, you have some questions about the Draymoore house, yes?”

“Yes, just a few! I understand you lived there many years ago?”

“Indeed, I purchased the house with the life insurance money from my late husband. He passed in 1954 when we were both only 24.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Ms. Collins. That must have been so hard. How did he pass?”

For the first time since Emily’s arrival, Nancy’s expression went from friendly to dark in an instant.

“Well, there’s no proof, dear. But, I know it was his tramp of a side piece, Eva Courtland. She was intelligent but young and hasty. She intended to take Arthur for herself, you see, as his family’s wealth was no secret. She had wanted to marry him when she finished her schooling, but she returned home to find us together already. With me in the way she had to reduce herself to a pathetic seductress and lure him in. She succeeded, at first, but Arthur couldn’t go through with it. She had intended to poison him in their first year of marriage, collect the money, and purchase the coveted Draymoore Mansion for herself. But, she grew impatient. She poisoned him anyway and moved on to another wealthy young bachelor. She succeeded in marrying him and put an offer in on the house, only for him to leave her for his own mistress. It’s a small town, you see, and young people tend to get bored. Anyway, I decided a little revenge would be fun so I bought the mansion after her offer fell through.”

It took a few full seconds before Emily was able to react to such a wild story. “Well that’s… insane” was all she could think to say upon regaining her composure. “I’m sorry all of that happened.”

“Oh, it’s all in the past, deary. It’s a painful set of memories, no doubt, but I’m at peace, now. What else did you want to know?”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. How long did you own the mansion, and did anyone else ever live with you?”

“I lived there for many years after moving to town. Arthur met me on a business trip, you see, so I wasn’t familiar with many people. But I loved the house. I took another lover shortly after moving in and he stayed with me. We were so in love, spent most of our time on the property enjoying each other. But, he eventually succumbed to a mysterious illness and passed away in our bedroom. The doctors were unable to determine what killed him. I was devastated to lose another partner, so I had to leave our happy memories in the house behind, returning to a town devoid of anyone familiar. I never sold it and I haven’t been back since.”

“So you still own it, then, technically?” That would explain why no other sale or ownership records could be found.

“Yes, although on paper that wouldn’t be the case. I couldn’t be bothered to continue paying all the taxes and fees, so eventually the town took legal ownership. I was fine with that. But, they soon abandoned their claim when everyone who stepped foot in there started dying. I don’t think it ever officially went through, so it’s just in limbo now.”

Emily’s heart started beating faster as she started closing in on some answers.

“Do you have any idea why people suddenly started dying after you moved out? Do you think it’s related to the rumours that the place is haunted and cursed?”

“Oh honey, the house is definitely cursed. It took away the only love I ever had that didn’t betray me. Seems it doesn’t want anyone leaving with a good fate.” The wry look on her face was a stark contrast to the friendly expression and demeanor she’d been carrying thus far. Normally good at reading people, Emily wasn’t sure what to make of Nancy Collins.

“Do you believe it’s haunted by spirits, ghosts, or anything else?” Emily asked point blank, wanting to know exactly where she stood on this.

Unlike the other questions, this one took Nancy a moment to answer. “That’s a tough question to answer because I’ve never been back to the house. All I do know is that Eva Courtland disappeared after Arthur died. Everyone assumed she moved away out of embarrassment, but there’s not a single shred of evidence that she left. You can draw whatever conclusion you want, but I know she was obsessed with that house. Maybe she wanted to spend forever there with the love she could never have.”

Chills instantly crawled across Emily’s skin as Nancy finished recalling this tale. Nowhere in her research or the comments of any locals was there a mention of a missing person or a spurned lover. Only general reports of adventurous but unlucky kids going missing or coming up dead. And it seems like everyone in town has heard phantom screams, wailing, and even ominous laughter coming from the woods at some point. Although, this could be easily embellished and imagined by folks with enough conditioning from others. Parents tell their kids to avoid the mansion, citing unusual sounds and physical danger. If they’re told this often enough, kids may start hearing and even seeing things that aren’t there.

“Well, that’s certainly interesting. No one else I spoke to mentioned anything about this.”

Nancy scoffed, “I would imagine not. Eva was known as the town slut, throwing herself at rich men and discarding people who were of no use to her. Folks were relieved when she supposedly “moved away.” They were happy to let her legacy die with talk of the mansion. The younger generation has probably never heard her name.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me about the house or your experiences there that might explain all the strange happenings and crazy rumours through the years?”

Nancy gave one final, wry smile, “All I know is that very few have entered and lived to tell the tale. Why? Well, they could have fallen through a rotten staircase to their death. They could have gotten lost in the troublesome and overgrown woods, starving before finding their way out. They could have been driven mad by the house itself, or been eliminated by Eva, trapped forever in the dwelling she so coveted in life, not wanting anyone to rip it from her grasp ever again. There’s no evidence either way and fewer people venture in to seek the truth as the years go by.”

“One last question, Mrs. Collins, and I’ll be out of your hair. Why were you so willing to speak with me and reveal so much about your old house?”

“Well, I suppose I see no reason to hide the truth. You’re the first person to ask me anything about it, I think you’re the only one around here who even knows I had anything to do with it!” She chuckled lightly. “I do wish you’d keep your distance, though. Not many have been successful in their search.”

“Well, I certainly appreciate your willingness to chat and you’ve given me a whole new perspective on the house.” With that, Emily gathered her things and got up to leave.

“I know you intend to search the house for more answers, dear. Please be careful and don’t underestimate the power of the house.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Collins. I’ll be careful! You have a wonderful day.”

“You as well Ms. Emily”

With that, Emily headed back downtown to see what Trevor had dug up. Walking into the small library, Emily soon spotted Trevor hunched over a table, engrossed in something.

“Hey bud, what did you find?”

Trevor looked up with excitement in his eyes, sliding an old, laminated sheet of newspaper across the table as Emily sat. It was a local printing, dated May 1954.

She quickly took in the headline, reading: “Unknown Body Found Outside Draymoore Mansion; Never Identified”

“Huh. Everything is digital these days, I didn’t find anything like this online.”

“This paper was never archived that way. It was more of a local magazine that only ran for about a year. Librarian said it started as a school project and the kids kept it going for a while. This wasn’t even an official investigation. These kids found the body when they were creeping around the forest perimeter in the afternoon. They never went inside. Weirdly, the body was too waterlogged to be identifiable. Technology wasn’t as great back then. Police took over but they never figured it out. They tried to bury it, since everyone already hated the house, but the kids distributed this little paper for about two hours before the authorities stopped it.”

“Wow. I’m not sure how this helps us, but it definitely adds another layer of mystery. Lots of people died trying to investigate the house, but they didn’t turn out like that.”

“Well, not everyone who ventured in and supposedly died was even found. Who knows how many bodies are in and around the house? Maybe they all look like that one and it just happened to be the one that got loose.”

Trevor said this in more of a jokey tone than anything, but they still shared a silent, knowing look as a chill floated down Emily’s spine. Despite her extensive experience in this area of exploration, something felt more intense about this one.

“Unfortunately, you make a good point. It’s almost evening, do you want to grab a bite and head over to the house?” Emily asked after a moment of contemplating.

Although excited, Trevor had felt some mild trepidation set in as soon as he found that old, buried article. But, nothing had ever stopped them before and he wasn’t about to give in now. “Yep, sounds good. There’s a little shop down the road that looks pretty good for a quick fuel-up.”

With flashlights in hand, Trevor and Emily slowly exited the car and ventured into the unforgiving forest, guided by the silent and eerie glow of fireflies. As they neared the heart of the forest, Emily felt the atmosphere grow heavy with dread. The trees seemed to whisper secrets, and the shadows danced ominously at the edge of her vision. She’d studied multiple reports extensively and even watched a few videos posted online - allowing them to find the house with little trouble and in just under an hour. The mansion, wrapped in an eerie fog, materialized before them as its dark silhouette clawed at the black, cloudless sky above.

Undeterred, Emily followed Trevor through the overgrown courtyard, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. They reached the mansion's entrance, its door creaking open with an agonizing groan. Inside, the air was thick with a palpable weight and darkness. This much she expected.

Their flashlights cast long, twisting shadows along the peeling wallpaper as they made their way around the foyer. The once-majestic ballroom lay in shambles, its chandeliers shattered and a grand piano resting dismally in the corner. They shared another silent glance as they came to the bottom of a beautiful but dilapidated spiraling staircase. Emily heard faint whispers echoing through the halls, growing louder with each step.

To her right was a doorway with broken hinges, pointing to a dark descent. “Let’s check out the basement first. Then we’ll work our way up?”

Trevor nodded as they made their way into the darkness. Immediately they heard the gentle sound of water dripping. They reached the bottom and found the floor to be wet with a damp muskiness to the air.

Exploring slowly and casting her light everywhere she could, Emily soon found an old, ratty desk. She ran her fingers gently over the surface, pulling up lots of dust in the process. On the right side was a series of drawers. The bottom two had fallen open, but the top was still shut. She pulled gently on the handle but it didn’t budge. Why would the desk remain locked after all this time? She pulled harder and tried a few more times, the lock finally giving way to its age and rust.

It slid open shakily and revealed what looked to be a small journal. She opened it to the first page, and out fell an old, yellowed Polaroid photo. She flipped it over and on the back, it read “Nancy and Art, Niagara Falls 1952.”

“That’s… kind of sad,” Trevor said, looking over her shoulder.

“Trevor, that’s not Nancy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I spoke to Nancy yesterday. This isn’t her in the picture.”

Suddenly, Emily heard what sounded like creaking bones and she thrust her flashlight in the direction of the noise. She and Trevor gasped in unison as several ghostly figures appeared just a few feet away from them. Their faces were twisted in expressions of eternal anger as they reached out their hands towards the couple.

“LEAVE”

A gruff, eerie voice boomed, seemingly from nowhere. Without warning, dust started stirring all around them and objects started falling from the ceiling, which Emily hadn’t even noticed was rotting through and falling apart. She flashed her light to the ground, realizing right away that what was falling around them were pieces of bone.

“Trevor, run!”

The two darted back up the stairs, only to see more figures blocking the front door. Wondering if she’d come to regret the decisions that led her here, Emily made a snap decision to grab Trevor by the arm and run up the spiraling staircase. The two darted back up the stairs, only to see more figures blocking the front door. Wondering if she’d come to regret the decisions that led her here, Emily made a snap decision to grab Trevor by the arm and run up the spiraling staircase. They ran until they found an open door they could slide into.

They stepped through the door and were met with a shadowy, ghostly woman looking at them from the foot of the bed. The specter extended a bony, ethereal hand towards the broken, gaping window.

Emily and Trevor froze and looked in horror first at each other, then back to the figure, and each other again. Still hearing noise coming from down below, Emily quickly closed the door behind them, keeping her eyes on the figure. This one was clearly that of a woman, an old, ripped dress falling off the frail skeleton.

Before either of them could decide whether to run, scream, or fight, two more figures materialized in front of them, much clearer and more solid. Two young women, arguing. They were yelling intelligibly at each other, and fists were starting to fly. A man’s voice called out for them to knock it off, though they could see no one else.

“Trevor” Emily whispered as her blood ran cold. “Trevor, that’s the woman in the photo, and the woman I talked to yesterday.”

“Nancy and Eva?” Trevor asked, recalling the story she’d relayed to him on the drive over.

Before she could say anything else, the woman who had presented herself as Nancy Collins threw the woman from the Polaroid out the window. “Evaaaa!” the woman shouted as she fell, her voice cutting off abruptly as she landed at her death.

With that, the scene disappeared and Emily looked back at the bony figure in trepidation, the realization hitting her hard. The figure simply nodded at her before moving herself over to the door. Before she reached it though, the image of a man appeared, blocking her way. He looked bedraggled and grey, but Emily recognized him as the man from the photo.

“Nancy, you know I don’t like it when we’re disturbed here.”

They continued watching in horror as the woman turned to look at Emily, her empty eye sockets somehow conveying a look of torture and hopelessness. Her jaw creaked as she returned her gaze to the man before she removed her own femur and stabbed it into the apparition's neck. The rest of her skeleton promptly fell to the ground as the man disappeared into the ether. Emily heard the groaning and rustling from outside the door stop abruptly as well.

Not wanting to stir up any more trouble, Emily and Trevor ran as fast as they could back to the car.

Emily drove until they were back in town and felt safer surrounded by a few buildings with lights on.

“Trevor, I had tea with a killer today.” Was all Emily managed to sputter out. “That’s why she said she never left the property after buying the house and taking another lover so quickly. Everyone in town would know it was the real Nancy that was truly gone, and not Eva. But she moved back down here eventually - do you think anyone else knows the truth?”

“If they don’t, they’re about to.” Trevor smiled coyly as they recovered from the experience. He slowly pulled the small journal from his backpack while slipping the little Polaroid out of his jeans pocket.

Emily looked up in delight, gingerly taking the journal for a proper investigation.

“I grabbed it as we ran… it was a risk I suppose but those poor souls deserve the truth to be known, by someone.”