Where There Is Nothing

Chapter 7

As Mr. Dolling stepped out of the inn, a newfound determination filled his every step. The encounter with Anna had ignited a spark within him, a burning that demanded satisfaction.

With each stride, the atmosphere tinged with a palpable anticipation. The woods winding path led him back towards the manor, its towering form beckoning from the distance. As he approached, the grandeur of the building intensified, its architectural splendor contrasting starkly against the desolate sky.

He paused at the massive wrought-iron gate that guarded the entrance, its intricate design hinting at the mysteries concealed within. Slowly, he pushed it open, feeling the weight of years upon it, groaning in protest. It swung inward with a haunting creak, granting him passage into the domain of the Svensdotters.

The path to the manor was overgrown with ivy and tangled foliage, as if nature itself had reclaimed this place. Arthur pressed on, his heart racing once again. As he ascended the stone steps leading to the entrance, he couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, as is unseen eyes were tracing his every move.

With a trembling hand, he reached out and grasped the tarnished brass handle of the imposing front door. The wood creaked as it swung open, revealing a dimly lit foyer bathed in shadows. He stepped inside, his senses immediately assaulted by the scent of aged wood.

The air hung heavy with silence as Arthur ventured deeper into the manor. His footsteps echoed through the corridor, leading him towards the grand staircase that had ascended him to the upper floors but a night ago. As he began his ascent, he noticed a faint flickering light emanating from one of the rooms above. Intrigued, he quickened his pace, his curiosity propelling him forward.

Reaching the landing, he followed the flow until he arrived at the partially open door. The soft light spilled the hallway, revealing a room bathed in warm hues and adorned with vintage photographs and trinkets. It was a sanctuary frozen in time, preserved with meticulous care.

And there, sitting by a crackling fireplace, was Miss Eliza Svensdotter. She appeared delicate yet resolute. She looked up, her gaze meeting Arthur with a mixture of surprise and recognition.

"Welcome, Mr. Dolling," she said, her voice carrying a haunting elegance. "I've been expecting you."

A shiver ran down his spine, but he couldn't deny the magnetism that drew him closer. He entered the room, cautiously taking a seat across from her, captivated by the aura of mystery that enveloped her."

"I have heard tales of your arrival," she continued, her voice filled with a blend of melancholy and anticipation. "The manor has been longing for someone like you, someone who can unravel its secrets."

Curiosity mingled with trepidation as Arthur leaned in, unable to tear his eyes from Miss Eliza's penetrating gaze. "What secrets lie within these walls, Miss Svendotter?"

A knowing smile played at the corners of her lips. "Oh, Mr. Dolling, the secrets are as vast and intricate as the manor itself. But to uncover them, you must be willing to venture into the past," she whispered, her voice carrying a heavy weight.

Arthur felt the shiver crawl up his spine, but his curiosity burned brighter than any fear. "I am willing, Miss Svensdotter, I have come to Rosenberg seeking answers on your behest."

A flicker of intrigue danced in her eyes, and she nodded approvingly. "Very well, Mr. Dolling. But be warned, you may come to regret knowing me or this miserable place."

He took a deep breath, his resolve firm. "I am prepared to face whatever lies ahead. Tell me, where should I begin?"