Forbidden
by 
tusker
|
Posted: Thursday, October 2, 2008 Word Count: 377 Summary: For Nick's challenge:Hidden |
Henry had been warned to stay away from the gazebo. 'The floor is rotten,' Aunt Jessica always claimed. Yesterday, she reiterated her warning over a light supper on Christmas night.
Christmas had been spent at Craythorne Manor as both of Henry's parents had drowned in a mysterious boating accident on Craythorne Lake, six years before. Then, last October, Justin, his older brother, had simply disappeared after leaving their aunt on the night of All Hallows Eve.
Thirty years ago, Henry's aunt inherited the manor after her husband suddenly died, five months into their marriage. Now both manor and gazebo, hidden away behind a row of Yew trees, were crumbling. Much renovation needed to be done.
At dawn on Boxing Day, Henry looked out from his bedroom window, across sweeping lawns when a movement caught his eye. Squinting against sunrise, he saw a figure standing close to the row of Yews. It raised an arm as if beckoning to him.
Leaving the guest bedroom, he hurried along the corridor, down the wide curving staircase and across the black and white marbled floor to an oak front door. Once outside, he strode across long grass, heading towards the row of Yews, their tops dipping despite the stillness of the morning.
Minutes later, Henry arrived at a balustrade, a sign on its padlocked gate read,'Danger. Keep Out.' Ignoring the warning, he clambered over and approached the gazebo but, on trying its metal door, found it to be locked.
Looking above him, he noticed a keystone. Reaching up, struggling to lift the heavy object, he felt around with the other hand and, at last, found his means of entry.
Unlocking the door, he pushed it open and stepped inside. There he stood for a moment while his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom.
Then he saw in amazement, a large stone table and five stone chairs. On four of those chairs, four motionless figures sat. 'Good morning,' Henry croaked.
The four figures rose and as they approached, tattered clothing disintergrated. Skin and flesh fell like dust to the ground.
Horrified, Henry ran to the door but found it locked and bolted. Screaming, he battled to wrench it open but was soon engulfed by eight skeletal arms and four licking, festering tongues.
Christmas had been spent at Craythorne Manor as both of Henry's parents had drowned in a mysterious boating accident on Craythorne Lake, six years before. Then, last October, Justin, his older brother, had simply disappeared after leaving their aunt on the night of All Hallows Eve.
Thirty years ago, Henry's aunt inherited the manor after her husband suddenly died, five months into their marriage. Now both manor and gazebo, hidden away behind a row of Yew trees, were crumbling. Much renovation needed to be done.
At dawn on Boxing Day, Henry looked out from his bedroom window, across sweeping lawns when a movement caught his eye. Squinting against sunrise, he saw a figure standing close to the row of Yews. It raised an arm as if beckoning to him.
Leaving the guest bedroom, he hurried along the corridor, down the wide curving staircase and across the black and white marbled floor to an oak front door. Once outside, he strode across long grass, heading towards the row of Yews, their tops dipping despite the stillness of the morning.
Minutes later, Henry arrived at a balustrade, a sign on its padlocked gate read,'Danger. Keep Out.' Ignoring the warning, he clambered over and approached the gazebo but, on trying its metal door, found it to be locked.
Looking above him, he noticed a keystone. Reaching up, struggling to lift the heavy object, he felt around with the other hand and, at last, found his means of entry.
Unlocking the door, he pushed it open and stepped inside. There he stood for a moment while his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom.
Then he saw in amazement, a large stone table and five stone chairs. On four of those chairs, four motionless figures sat. 'Good morning,' Henry croaked.
The four figures rose and as they approached, tattered clothing disintergrated. Skin and flesh fell like dust to the ground.
Horrified, Henry ran to the door but found it locked and bolted. Screaming, he battled to wrench it open but was soon engulfed by eight skeletal arms and four licking, festering tongues.