Craven Manor(52)

“That sounds nice.” Daniel stared into the dregs of his teacup. His mind was absorbed in the story, and he didn’t realise Mrs. Kirshner was staring at him until she spoke.

“Why Daniel curious about Myricks? When Daniel hear about town?”

“Oh! Uh, I just…”

“You say you believe in ghosts.” She tilted her head to the side. “You like to hear ghost stories, yes?”

“Um…” He struggled for an answer, and settled on a lame, “Yes?”

“You hear ghost story about Myricks house.” She nodded, as though that settled the matter. “And you want to know more.”

“Yeah, that’s, uh, basically what happened.”

She reached across the space between them and patted the hand resting on Alonzo’s head. “Daniel stay away from Myricks house. Bad place. Not safe. Don’t want to be trapped, not like Eliza Myricks.”

He frowned. “What do you mean… trapped?”





Chapter Twenty-Three





Mrs. Kirshner knit her wrinkled hands together. Her attention was focussed on the opposite wall, though Daniel didn’t think she saw it. “You don’t know story? Bran Myricks did awful thing to mother. He hate her so much, he trap her soul where she will never rest and never sleep. She is locked in a tower, never able to reach heaven. They say she will not be free until the seals on the door are broken.”

“Oh.” Daniel felt queasy. He didn’t realise he was holding the cat too tightly until it began squirming, and he quickly released his hold. “Sorry, Alonzo… shh. I’m sorry.”

“They say Bran lives on at Craven Manor. He is crazy, yes? He keeps his family with him—not just mother, but also little sister. He knows hell will swallow his soul when he dies, so he lives on, and they are forced to suffer beside him. Forever.” She shuddered. “Bad house, bad family. You stay away, yes, Daniel?”

“Yes.” He tried to imagine spending eternity trapped in a house that was slowly collapsing around him, all because of one man’s selfish, spiteful whims. Daniel had been alone with Bran so often. Did the house’s master have the power to trap Daniel’s soul, as well? Had he unknowingly been dancing with eternal imprisonment?

Mrs. Kirshner stood and took Daniel’s cup. He offered to help her wash up, but she waved him back down. “Stay, stay. Alonzo is comfortable, yes? Daniel keep him warm.”

Good old Mrs. Kirshner. The cat always takes priority. Daniel managed a smile as he scratched under Alonzo’s chin. Sounds came from the kitchen as his host rinsed the cups and put them away, then with a grating noise, a rarely used drawer was opened. Daniel peered over his shoulder and saw Mrs. Kirshner returning with something clasped in her hands.

“Gift for Daniel,” she said, beaming at him. “My grandmother make. Wards off bad spirits, yes? Made of salt and silver, blessed by holy man. Daniel keep close. It will protect.”

“I…” Daniel blinked at the talisman she’d dropped into his hands. It was made of a series of tiny silver beads threaded around a small glass vial. A leather strap had been attached to it so that it could be worn as a necklace. “I don’t want to take your grandmother’s gift. It must be important to you.”

She patted the top of his head as she shuffled past. “No, better this way. Daniel look after me. I look after Daniel. Good boy, good boy.”

As he watched her go, a sense of disorientation swept over him. She’d clearly understood more than he’d told her. She wouldn’t have given him the talisman if she didn’t think he was at risk from Craven Manor.

It’s kind of her, but I won’t need it once I move to a new house. He turned the talisman over in his hands. It had a nice weight to it. I have no plans to ever return to Craven Manor.

He put conviction into that thought, but as soon as it passed through his mind, he wavered. Eliza and Annalise’s story left him feeling guilty. He’d escaped a lion’s jaws, and the smart thing to do would be to keep moving and not look back. Still, he couldn’t help but feel responsible for the tormented family, especially Annalise. She’d become like a friend.

The guilt continued to niggle at him during his shower. As he scrubbed his hands in Mrs. Kirshner’s poky, blue-themed bathroom, he looked at the issue from every angle. The manor and its occupants were all but forgotten. The police wouldn’t help. If I don’t do something, no one will. They’ll be trapped there, forever. The thought horrified him, and the soap slipped between his numb fingers. He shivered and turned the tap on a little warmer.

He would be well within his right to walk away from the situation. He had no legal obligation to help the Myricks family… but he already knew he would never be able to forget them. The knowledge that he’d left them to suffer would hang over his head for the rest of his life.

You won’t be missed if you disappear. He stepped out of the shower and stared at his blurred reflection in the mirror as he dried his hair. Mrs. Kirshner will be sad not to see you, and maybe Kyle will occasionally wonder where you went, but society won’t miss you. No one is relying on you or waiting for you to come home. That makes you the best candidate. If you fail, no one else will be hurt.

Bran’s words came back to him: “Things that die here have a tendency to linger.” Daniel thought he could face death without too much regret, but an eternity trapped on Craven Manor’s grounds with its vengeful host horrified him. Maybe Bran wouldn’t try to keep him chained on earth. He wasn’t family, after all, and Bran seemed to be obsessed with his mother and sister. But the risk still existed.