The Curded Manor

• Horror

								
The car went swiftly alongside many villages where there was not a soul moving. John could also see some barren field from time to time. In one of these were ravens circling around a dead horse lying on the yellowish turf. A haggard air was filling up the place, which troubled him greatly. His granduncle’s manor was still some miles off. He has never seen it and wondered that he was to be the new owner upon the former's death earlier in the month. 
      John is a stout tall man, with olive skin, light brown hair and pleasant features. His appearance has always made him an eligible bachelor; by the way, he has found his true love and married happily. Unfortunately, the young woman he was smitten with passed away only eight months after their matrimony. Eight months is quite a short period but enough to make her even dearer to his heart, and her passing away most painful. His heart was broken, his soul wrapped in shrouds and ready to follow the beloved to the afterlife with a bullet in the head. However, his friends cared for him and it took him around three months to heal from the trauma. 
      John continued his medical studies and got a job. He has led until then a quiet life in the city working as a doctor and intending to find a proper partner for his last wish; a family, although believing that nobody could ever replace his dear Elsa. This inheritance, coming up from nowhere, was least incommoding and most tempting even for such an ordinary unpresumptuous and contented man. John slept for the rest of the journey and when he woke, the family's ages-old residence was commanding his entire sight.
        There was a lane of freshly sprinkled grass with a hedge on one side, a drive to the garage, a path leading to the verandas as well as fastidious flowerbeds that paid honor to a skilled gardener. As for the building itself, it had a huge size and an awe-inspiring grandeur with its glass windows and carved balconies in the first floor. Upon his entrance, John found a row of maids and servants awaiting him as the new master of the place. One young and sly - looking servant showed him to his room. John stared at the indoors luxuries with gleaming eyes; wooden solid floor, a ceiling covered with paintings, silver candlesticks hung to every wall, and at least one Persian carpet in each room. Meanwhile, his was exceptionally well furnished for it was the master's room. He had a shower, shaved and slept for some time in his new comfortable bed.
        In the afternoon, John decided to go for a round in the Manor's surroundings. To his surprise and distress, the road's haggard harrowing atmosphere carried on as soon as he left the luxuries of his domain. There were filthy muddy paths, fields with no grass at all, and not a sign of life. The cloudy, grey sky added to that grim and bleak landscape was enough to put him off his venture; however, he fancied visiting his granduncle's grave in a cemetery not a mile away from his new house. As soon as he got to the graveyard, he felt a sort of fright but so light and so shallow it was that he went on. Near the late lord's grave, he kneeled down saying a prayer. Just before he got up, he felt a sudden wind whirling in the graveyard and a dreary coarse voice speaking in whispers 
  * I can see you! Why did you come? You want to die like your cracked hunchback of an uncle! That house is for me to haunt.... Look out for my coming...Ha! Ha! Ha!
      John was terrified and during that speech, he has spontaneously risen to his feet and made hurriedly for the gate of the cemetery. He ran out and for some distance before turning around to see a grey ghostly shape with scarlet piercing eyes and a shouting open mouth with its unshapely arm out-thrust, reaching for him . John was so feverish and his face was so ruddy when he got to the manor that it took him nearly an hour to calm down and for his nerves to cool a little bit.
     In the evening, he judged better to share what happened with the sly-looking servant, Robert. He answered that shortly before the death of the former master, he was new in the house, but the butler told him that the lord was abnormally nervous and agitated. More than that, a maid has quitted the house just then pretending to have seen the crockery moving by itself in the kitchen.
      John stayed up for a while reading the newspaper and finally went to sleep in his room. He undressed, put on his nightgown and went to the window. His mind was still in a state of perplexity and confusion from the earlier incident that he would shudder upon any little noise. It was a clear breezy night and the sky was moonlit and starry. Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door.
  “-Who is there?
  - Me, sir. I brought some warmer bed sheets, answered Robert.
  - Yes. Come in.”
       The servant entered and put a bundle on the bed, while John was still facing the window. When he turned, he saw an unshapely form getting out of the young man's mouth, while the latter is face was congested with agony. At last, the same harrowing scarlet - eyed ghost of the afternoon was just before him, and the servant's body collapsed lifeless and cold dead. John was too petrified and full of terror to pay any heed to the inert body; all he saw was the hellish figure in front of him. The creature moved towards him, shouting indistinctly and reached out his arm, holding a silver dagger. Without any reflection, John jumped out of the window and fell in the water of the moat.
      As soon as he got out of there, the ghost was right behind him. Then, he started running more feverishly and madly than he did in the afternoon. His head was spinning around and thoughts were mingling up indistinctly and whirling inside. He was no longer thinking if he would be safe after all, he did not think of outrunning that beastly creature. In fact, he could already hear a soothing voice, that of dear Elsa, calling his name, and he was nothing more than a body, a set of limbs running non-stop.
    At last, he came to the brim of a rocky cliff eternally followed by a cavernous laugh. He did not stop, and went over the rocks. The next day, his corpse was found hanging in between the tangled branches of the trees just beneath the ridge, dead since last night. His funeral was short, unimpressive, and they buried him in the same graveyard next to his uncle.
      Years passed after this happened, and the manor is still vacant as there is no heir left. However, tales go around that random vagabonds often heard a terrifying, breath-cutting laugh resonating in the manor upon their passing nearby.
   
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