From February-May of 2017, I wrote a serialization series entitled “Mansion of Horrors” on my Instagram. I’ve now decided that I ought to upload the series here: 28 parts + the epilogue.
I walked briskly to the door of the abandoned mansion and knocked on the door. I was hoping for someone to open the door, to tell me to turn back instead of going further. I was walking straight into the jaws of death.
Nobody opened the door. I took a deep breath to steady myself, and turned the doorknob. After I pushed the door gently, it creaked open, revealing a front hall covered in red carpet…the color of blood.
I took a tentative step onto the blood red carpet. Nothing bad happened. I relaxed for a moment and surveyed the hall. It was dark, with a chandelier and dark wooden walls. There were three doorways, and the main door behind me. I turned for one last look outside, and the door slammed shut, making me jump.
I whirled back around, my heart thumping in my ears. That’s when I heard it; a quiet chatter. A choir of whispers, different pitches and volumes. I couldn’t discern a single word, and I was quickly filled with unease and dread towards what was to come.
I took a tentative step forward. Next to the doorway directly in front of me was a staircase. I decided to take the doorway to my right first. I quietly tiptoed over and peered in. The room was a sitting room, with a fireplace and chairs.
I stepped into the room, striding towards the fireplace. When I neared it, the fire blazed up. I jumped back in surprise. It must have been an electric fireplace, but I had no idea who, or what, had turned it on.
I heard the whispers again. I could somewhat make out one voice; that of a man, an elderly one. “Don’t get to close to the fire, you might get burned!” I heard. I spun around to see a man sitting in one of the chairs with his feet up.
He was old. Too old to be alive. I stepped towards him, my eyes wide. He had gray hair and was dressed in a suit. He grinned at me, and his flesh fell away. I stifled a gasp. His skin fell, revealing glistening bones. His skeleton opened it’s mouth in a silent scream before it too crumbled to dust.
I stared blankly at the spot where he had sat. What the heck had just happened? And was it real or simply some sort of trickery, something fake? I glanced around the room and spotted another door, leading towards the back of the house. I stepped through it, into a kitchen.
As I stepped over the threshold of the door, one of the doors in a cabinet swung open, revealing a line of extremely sharp knives. I glanced around, and stepped towards the oven, which was open. Suddenly, one of the knives flew at me.
I nearly screamed as the knife flew through the air. It was pointed straight at my head, and would had killed me had I not jumped aside just in time. Instead, it simply impaled my shirt to the wall. I stood there for a moment in shock, realizing that I had been that close to death.
After regaining my composure, I quickly tore the knife out of the wall. It had left a large tear where my shirt was pinned to the wall, but that was insignificant. With a shaking hand, I gripped the knife. At the time, it made sense to keep it in case I faced any sort of adversary here.
I rapidly walked over to the oven, the door of which was ajar. The light inside was on. How peculiar. I slowly pulled the door to the oven open fully, revealing the decapitated human head sitting on the top shelf. The head was splattered with blood. I let out a low moan and immediately pushed the door shut.
As I quickly stepped over the threshold leading out of the kitchen into the butler’s pantry, I thought about the series of events that led me to be here.
It all started on a cold October night, last Saturday in fact. I was at my friend Mark’s house. A few other friends, Jeff and Ian were there. We were talking, when Jeff brought up the story of the Callsworth Mansion.
“They say that the mansion is haunted to this day. The ghosts lurk there, seeking revenge for their untimely deaths. There’s this guy I knew, Gordon, he was dared to spend a night at the house. I never saw him again.” Jeff finished his story and looked around at us. “Hey Milo,” he said, looking at me, “think you could survive a night there?” Everyone laughed.
I was leaning against the wall, with my hands in my pockets. “Totally. I’d bet you twenty bucks that I could.” Jeff raised his eyebrows. “That’s it? How about two hundred?” Everyone laughed again. “Or are you too chicken?” he said jokingly. “Nah, I’ll do it.” We shook on it. I was to go to the mansion at 6pm, and leave no earlier than 6am. I shared my location with Jeff using my phone, so he would know if Ieft early.
And so, I ended up here. I looked around the butlers pantry. It looked normal; the only normal room so far. I walked through it to what appeared to be a large family room, with a pool table, a few bookshelves, and another fireplace. I stepped very cautiously onto the soft, won green carpet. It was splattered with blood.
If I hadn’t known the horrible history of this mansion and the terrible events that and occurred here, I think I would have rather liked this room. It was fairly spacious, and had the feel of a place that was happy and had been the place of many good experiments, aside from the bloodstains and very odd books.
I decided to take a closer look at the books. Several of them struck me as odd, because many of them looked new and clean, without dust on them. Much of what I had seen so far had been covered with layers of dust, yet many of these books looked like they had been read fairly recently.
I gently laid a finger on one of the books. “How to Raise The Dead, Curse the Living, and Become Immortal” was the title. I recoiled at the sheer strangeness of what this book was about. “There’s no way this can be legitimate,” I exclaimed. “Oh, but it is!” I heard someone behind me say.
The woman standing behind me was young. She looked to be in her 20s, dressed in a pitch black dress. She gave me a sad smile. “Wh-who are you?” I stammered, raising my fists to defend myself in case she tried to attack me. “Sit down,” she said, gesturing at one of the couches. “My name is Angelina. Angelina Callsworth.”
I sat down on the couch and raised my eyebrows in shock. “I thought you were dead!” Angelina sat down on one of the chairs across from me with a sigh. “I am. What you see before you is…an imprint of what I was when I was alive. A ghost of sorts, not quite living, and not fully dead.” She gestured at the books. “My family was always interested in sorcery and the idea of immortality.”
“Are the stories true?”The stories about your sister and what you dad did?” She looked up at me and sighed again. “My father was a… strange man. After my mother passed away, he was completely devastated. I would wake up at night to hear him pacing the rooms of the house. At first, I believed it was the ghosts. Our home has been the place of so many gruesome acts over the years, but I eventually came to realize it was him.”
“He was desperate to bring our mother back from the dead at all costs. One day my twin sister, Carol, brought her boyfriend home. My father, unbeknownst to Carol and I had been reading up on sorcery. In order to bring back a dead person, a soul was needed in exchange. Thus, my father decided to choose the boyfriend. He dragged him out to the graveyard in the middle of the night. Carol and I, learning of what was to happen, chased after him, trying to stop our father.”
Angelina stood up and walked towards the window, staring outside. “My father…he was desperate. We went to the graveyard in the woods behind our house, where our mother was buried. Some sort of circle of candles was set up, along with a magical purple fire. The coffin was open and out of the ground. From what father was attempting to do…I believe he meant to stab the boy and water the coffin with his blood, and then throw him into the purple fire. That would somehow release his soul, and my mother would come back.”
“Before my father managed to stab the boy, Carol somehow came between the two. She fell to her knees and pleaded with father, begging him to release her boyfriend and to give up his quest. She didn’t realize how far over the edge my father had gone, and he stabbed her. The boy screamed and threw himself at my father. The two ended up in the flames.” Angelina chocked up. “In only a few minutes, I lost everything. The fire grew, and I couldn’t figure out who to stop it. It consumed the forest and the graveyard.”
She turned to face me. Tears streamed from her eyes. I felt so bad! I had just thought the stories were just that- stories. I didn’t believe the tales of murder, the supernatural, and the unsolved mysteries about this place. Something about hearing it from Angelina herself made me believe the truth. She sat down again.
“I eventually found the books that my father had gotten his “spells” and ideas of bringing back the dead from. They’re over there.” She waved a hand towards the bookshelf. She turned towards me, a sad, almost remorseful expression on her face. “You don’t mind, do you?” Unsettled, I replied with “mind what?” She sighed once more and stood. “Unfortunately, I’ve learned how to bring back the dead. It turns out that one soul can bring back several people.” She paused, and an eerie smile filled her face as she stared at me. “It’s your turn to die.”
EPILOGUE – PART 29
Jeff put down his phone. “Where the hell is he?” he muttered.
“Should’ve been back by now, right?” Carl said. The pair were sitting in Jeff’s bedroom, awaiting the return of their friend Milo who had been dared to spend a night in the infamous Callsworth mansion, home to countless heinous murders and malevolent ghosts. It was now 10AM, and Milo was supposed to have returned to Jeff’s house two hours ago. They had been trying to call him, but he wasn’t replying.
“It shows that he’s still at the house…but why would he be there? Why would he stay in that place longer than he needed to?” Jeff said.
“I don’t know man. Maybe we should go look for him?” Jeff nodded, and the two of them headed outside to Jeff’s car.
Within a few minutes, they were at the mansion. The tall Victorian mansion was creepy, even in the daytime. “It looks like he’s in the woods behind the house.” Jeff peered at his phone again. “Hey, isn’t there a graveyard there?” Carl shrugged. They got out of the car and walked to the woods behind the house. “Most of these trees are dead. It looks like there was a fire a while back,” Carl said.
“There!” Jeff said, pointing to an old graveyard. “HEY! WHAT THE- WHAT’RE YOU DOING TO HIM?” Jeff yelled and sprinted to the graveyard. A lady dressed in black was holding a knife above Milo’s chest. There was some sort of strange purple fire next to a pile of skeletons. Carl sprinted at the lady and knocked to knife out of her hand. Jeff grabbed Milo’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “NO!” the lady shrieked. “I’ve come to far to be stopped now! I figured out how to make myself live forever, even if not as a human! I will not fail to finish what I’ve been waiting to do because of you fools!” She dove to the ground, knocked Carl down, and snatched the knife. Jeff moved towards her, but she held the knife over Carl’s head. “Don’t you dare take a step closer.” Jeff let out a roar and threw himself at her. The knife fell out her hand, and Carl rolled to avoid it. “Get the knife!” Jeff yelled. Carl grabbed it and got to his feet. The lady knocked Jeff back just as Milo tackled her. They watched, horrified, as the lady fell into the flames and started to scream.
She screamed for what felt like forever. Her skin began to burn, melting away to reveal glistening bones, bones that darkened in the flames and began to crumble. Finally, her screaming faltered, and she was no more.
“Who…wha-?” Carl stammered. Jeff was staring in shock at the fire.
“Let’s get out of here,” Milo said. Jeff nodded, and they turned to walk away from the mansion of horrors.