The horses kept changing pace Elizabeth could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
As she moved forward from the velvet padded couch, she drew the curtains of both of the carriage door and proceeded to open the window.
The air was crisp; the night had fallen and snow would soon follow. She poked her head out the window to ask the coachman how much time was left to get to Hillsbury Manor :
'I would say an hour, Madam'
Three days had passed since Elizabeth had received her brother's letter and she kept reading it.
Each lign started with a smear of ink, there were a few amber dots that reaked of alcohol on the bottom of the enveloppe. Elizabeth's hand kept shaking as she continued reading 'father has fallen gravely ill, come home sister, where you are needed', as she dozed off, she mumbled these words.
Two knocks on the carriage roof woke her up, she adjusted her wool scarf and tightened her emerald velvet gloves. As she got off, her black leather heeled boots crunched on the snow.
'I will not be going in Madam ; it is said that a malevolent spirit has taken over Hillsbury'
'Do not worry Martin ; go back to London and tell my children that I won't be long and tell---Archibald to come as soon as he can'
'Yes, my lady'
She found herself kneeling in the snow, rummaging through her suitcase triyng to find her key to open the black iron gate.
The manor was not visible from the outside because tall cypresses were forming a fence all around the property. When Elizabeth finally opened the gate, she stood there admiring the manor. The stone towers standing on every corner of the manor were deteriorating. The white stones were cracked and the bricks from the front walls were covered in moss.
When she mustered the courage to walk up the steps she felt a shiver going down her spine. She felt uneasy when she broke the silence with the loud scrapping of her heels on the steps.
Even though the door was ajar, she still rang the doorbell. No one answered so she entered. Elizabeth pinched her nose an unbearable stench came over her.
She reached for the handle to open the drawer of the oak cabinet that stood in the entrance. As it creaked she heard steps overhead. When she got a few candles lit, she saw her reflection in the mirror. Her fiery hair was puffed up, so she took off her gloves and hat to tame them. Her plump cheeks were pink, her pointy nose was red.
Going up, lit by the candle and the moonlight coming through the large window above the stairs, the smell got more intense so she covered her oval face with her scarf. The stair carpet was stiff, it felt like something had been spilled and dried overtime.
When she got to the last step, the stench was insufferable. In the doorway of her father's study she felt something hard ; nevertheless she went forward but found herself unable to go farther ahead.
As she got back up and brought light to what she had fallen upon, she gasped. His eyes were wide open ; once blue they now had a white veil over them. It had been a long time since she had last seen him. A lot of wrinkles had appeared on his face, dust was accumulating on his clothes and maggots were consuming his hands. Tears were rolling down her eyes. She screamed and fell to her knees. As she was stroking his hair, a black blemish caught her attention as she brought the candle to his neck.
Small holes had been made. Blood had surely been gushing out of them but by then it had all dried up. She sensed a presence watching her, she mustered all the strenght she could as she got up, and turned to face it.
There he was: long, pitch-black hair, white porcelain skin and vivid ruby eyes; his portruding sharp white teeth came into view as he pursed his lips into a smile.
