(A. N. Not edited though)
༺༒༻⒒༺༒༻
Y/n. Point. Of. View.
_
_
_
_
My lips twirled up and my eyes buldged in a bewildered horror as I saw a shadowy figure resting it's fragile body in the edge of the grand, century old bed. My body felt numb, as I saw from the gloomy light of the candle; in a vast distance, that the creature was moving it's head on the side. As if it was in a deep slumber and was steering in it's sleep.
I dared not faint. As I heard the creature groaning hoarsly in it's sleep. I shuddered at the blank darkness where I knew it lay. My eyes immediately lingered back at Mr Crane, I was just too enraged that he seemed to have no reactions to the ghastly sleeper. And who seemed to look more occupied over the other odds and ends of the room. Mr Crane stiffly moved his rapid footsteps around, capturing every details of the old, damp chamber by his wonder-struck eyes. It seemed like he was not aware of the deadly creature laying on the bed.
I let out a heavy breathe from my nose, not knowing how to gesture my sudden fear. I definitely knew that the creature was not visible in Mr Crane's eyes, but I knew that the creature was not of any kind of hallucinations by precise, "Mr Crane," I wishpered through my gritted teeth, just too conscious that I would accidentally awake the ghastly sleeper. The candle still clutched in my hand.
He paused for a moment by my sudden call, hesitated at first but turned around to focus his confused eyes over my startled ones.
"Anything you wanted to say?" He asked with his usual soft tone, a hint of anxiety appeard over me from his sudden voice; I was dreadfully struck in a long pattern of deja vu, as if these things are happening right now had already happened before. But I submerge the sudden sensation as I feared that the creature was moaning hoarsly in it's sleep. I felt the chill running down my spine as from the corner of my eyes I could notice that it was shifting it's posture side by side.
All I could do was pray that I would not wake up the ghostly figure. I was also tounge tied from the question and I was going out of my prepositions; I could not even say a word, my throat was choking me from inside. I noted that Mr Crane's confusion deepened into the lines of suspicios frown when he noticed my stiff form, while my sweat covered face was set in a firm blank expression. I knew I was scared, too much scared to even talk. But it was not my fault to have naturally inherited a poker face.
My lips quivered and I tried to force myself to point my index fingure towards the creature sleeping on the bed. But I stopped myself. I pondered for some moments; the haunt for the diary was long forgotten.
"I. There is something over there." I bursted out viciously, as I saw an exasperated look thrown over me by Mr Crane. He stared at me oddly, I knew he was thinking definitely that I have gone insane. But I literally didn't cared much as I was used to the stage looks casted over me by the people, I shrugged my shoulders and pulled my hand out to give him a look over the bed.
He immediately craned his head up and turned his focus over the dark outline of the bed. I understood nothing about his expression. He seemed to look more confused than before, "There is nothing." Mr Crane said after a brief pause.
I pursed my lips with a hint of uneasiness running down in my mind, and turned my head in the same direction to look at the bed that the shadowy figure was . . . Gone?
"But . . ." I gasped with disbelief, as
I heard a sigh of disapproval from Mr Crane.
"We have come here to fetch the diary, detective L/n." He reminded me the same thing again. I felt like I was in a state of feverish enervation right now, which just makes my mind suffer as much as my body.
"I know it. Mr Crane," I replayed the book in my memory. But I had long forgotten the appearance of exactly how the diary would look.
"Aren't we gonna start finding the main thing first?" He asked again.
I was about to give another of my useless reply when a sudden abrupt thrust of something falling on the ground caught both of our attention.
Our head turned in unison over the another shadowy outline of a dresser. I was way too sure that the sound came from the same direction, it made me endeared too when I noted Mr Crane walking nonchalantly over the direction without even paying much attention to me. Not to be left behind; I immediately followed him like a petrified puppy.
"A book?" We both said in unison as Mr Crane crouched down in the ground and touched the plain object from the back of his knuckles. I barely could see it's outline as he was holding the candle to examine 'the book'.
"Strange," Mr Crane murmured while he checked the cover of it, "it's a notebook," he said while carefully picking it up from the ground.
He passed me the candle and flourished a grey notebook infront of my face, just to give me an easy description of it's features. I charged my hand up and without thinking much, I flipped the pages around.
My lips pursed in a firm line and I grimaced with a hint of anxiety and hope, as though I noted from the dim candlelight that the texture was written from an unknown handwriting and the smudged up languages signified that it was a Latin language; Moreover as someone else's journal.
No, no, no, no . . .
Something was not right; moreover nothing was right at all, my lips grimaced into a sheer frown of disbelief. How could a never used or untouched thing fall in it's own? There aren't any rats or insects that would sneak around the abandoned chambers . . . The creature sleeping on the bed. Who was it? Did it knew what we actually wanted? Did it knew our presence? Did it helped us in finding the diary.
So many questions, but no one yet to answer it at all.
I flipped the book to the first page, while Mr Crane was peeping over my shoulder with curiosity, I definately knew he would not understand a thing about the language though, the candle was still in his hand.
A paper flung upon and a word was written in blue ink.
'Observatus'.
"What does it mean?" Mr Crane asked.
"Observation." I replied with a slow voice, even though it was not connected in any case of the headless horseman, it still made me feel a little too weary; my grandfather was half Latin and thus for him to haven't written or occasionally talk around we little children in his old language. I heard a gasp from Mr Crane, "What could it be signifying moreover." He exclaimed with an obvious surprisement.
I shrugged my shoulders, and flipped over the other page.
There were numerous texts and paragraphs which derived from Latin to French to Latvian. All in a smudged and confusing questions and riddles. Moreover there were poetries too. But I charged to flip through few pages until I found a passage in full Latin language:
I was unprepared for everything. Everything I did was something I would say as a dreadful sin, I think that is why god has given me this dreadful fruit of curse. For taming people through money, for ill treating everyone, for bribing the land properties for my own good will and fortunes. I am a sinner I knew, but I don't know how to suppress my obvious qualms right now; Mostly because of my wife is going to be a mother. And I am not prepared of the coming obstacles at all. I . I think I would not be a good husband, neither a good father. I guess I deserved to be this! I hate myself. I am selfish and unkind as always. I hate it to confess that; but I am. Is there any solutions I could get rid of?
I was tempted to throw the diary away; reading my own grandfather's words angered and frustrated me. Meaning the whole circumstances was just written in a book, and he was gaining to be forgiven by the almighty just because he had done the most pathetic deeds for more than years.
I glanced at Mr Crane as I turned the other page. He looked quite confused, waiting for me to explain. I scrunched my nose with frustration; as I was just too ashamed to tell him the same thing written on the diary.
***
"Thank you so much. Mr Crane." I said with a hint exhaustion as we stood outside the entrance gate of the L/n Mansion.
The dark, night sky had already been swallowing the environment around, not a star glimmerd in the black vault overhead. Making an attempt that we were the only living creatures awake in the same timing; or maybe three. Mr Crane awkwardly mounted up and was sitting over a black feriesian horse.
The horse was being much restless in the shack of the lantern I had been holding for and loudly sniffed the cold air, as if signifying to tell us that it really didn't wanted to stay any more longer infront of a gloomy Mansion at all.
I let out an air of mirth at it's action and slowly kept my hand over it's head, trying to keep it calm, at first it hesitated. I could notice from it's black, beady eyes that it gave it's full attention; rather more suspiciously, but furthermore it started to act as if it liked my touch.
"Err. Can I ask you a question?" I heard Mr Crane's slow voice. Obviously surprised by how calm the horse was being after I started petting it.
I slowly nodded my head, indicating that I was listening to him.
"Why is the west wing literally abandoned among the rest of the Mansion?" He was evidently afraid to speak about the west wing, but I understood the curiosity in his face.
I sighed, "Paranormal activities and negative energies are usual in the west wing." I paused for a while, dropping my hand back at my side.
I heard a low gasp from Mr Crane, but I guess he had understood the point although, and made no clear assumptions on asking any further. "Are you sure you can stay alone by yourself?" He asked again, looking suspiciously at the plastered bandage in my hand. I nodded with a shrug, "I am used to it." I said with a sigh; while not wanting to waste our time further more. He awkwardly ducked his head a little, bowing to signify that he was leaving.
I nodded back with a small smile. Handing the lantern in his surprisingly soft hands, it seemed to fluster Mr Crane again. He smiled shyly, and even though from a dim light of the lantern, I could cast a simple glimpse in his face, at some point I acknowledged that something was really off in his features. My eyebrows raised up, but I said nothing.
I quietly watched that he quickly strode the horse from the place; I stared the bright light of his lantern and the galloping of the horse, till it quite disappeared, and then turned to pursue my way alone inside my house.
At my sudden act I immediately felt that something just touched the back of my neck. I gasped to myself in between the dark world, immediately frozen in my tracks.
A cold air was blowing among the withered rose-trees of my garden. And among them, I heard a low groaning of that something.
***
THE NEXT DAY
I was awaken by a cold wind hurling inside my body. My eyelids snapped open, but I instantly closed it back due to the excessive amount of light inside my . . . Bedroom? I groaned, too tired to do anything else. Deep slumber was still seizing me again; but soon it followed by a terrible awakening.
I immediately jolted out of my trance, and stood up straight in my bed. My startled eyes landed over everything surrounded around my room. I didn't knew anything what happened last night: all I could remember was someone . . . Or literally something crawling in my direction. I suddenly felt myself somewhat discomposed by thinking of that creature groaning hoarsly in the blank darkness surrounded around the dark garden, aiming and sniffing to kill me, to charge it's next prey, I knew it was trying to bite my neck into pieces; My heart started to beat rapidly and I had a choking feeling in my throat.
Who brought me here?
I knew nothing of running away from the area, as I was frozen in my tracks; as if the creature had paralyzed me by it's supernatural powers. I knew nothing of returning back at my chamber. I don't know how it all happened back then. But it was terrible; truly terrible to experience that horrified feeling. I pushed myself immediately from the bed and stared back at the silk mattress stonily. Who tucked me inside? I held my shaking hands infront of my face; I was too afraid if there were any bruises around my body. But there were none.
It was already broad daylight outside. Yesterday after Mr Crane left the Mansion; everything was gaining up to become quite blurry. I had no idea who did brought me here; but unfortunately I could still relate that faint hissing and groaning of that creature though. I swallowed hard, and started to twirl the locks of my hair; rethinking of the incidents that happened last night just made me go panick striken again.
All I wanted to do was hide inside somewhere safe; just like a closet, and get locked inside it forever. I anxiously started to bite the nail of my thumb. Did I awakened someone whom I never wanted to face? Was it angry with me? Was there any kind of creatures who hide inside the abandoned, or the darkest parts of this strange Mansion? Or am I having some mental issues?
I must have definitely lost my head during the last few days! My mind was not well seathed that it was just any of my visions, or some peculiar nightmares or just a hallucination! I snapped my hand in my ears and squinted my eyes as another round of deja vu captured my sensations. My brain reeled, what if an intruder is doing these things to me?! What if it's some kind of a black magic thrown over me?? Why is it happening to me??
I looked sharply around. No one was enjoying my worsening mental health. The door was not opened, the windows were still closed, except the muslin curtains; where were slightly open. Verifying that it was already another start of the day.
Just then there was a small knock on my door. I understood that it was my maid who had come to call me as usual.
I immediately schooled my expression into my usual blank face, and quietly plopped myself back at my bed. "Come in." I said with a slight muffled groan.
My maid entered, and assisted me to lay aside the dress which I was still wearing. She was here to dress and clean me up as usually she did. I seldom cared to converse with any of my servants; but right now, there was a stinging sensation inside my mind that I was dreading to share about the incident with someone -
I called out, "Err. Did you saw anything peculiar last night?" I asked with an intact expression; my voice was soft, full and yet sweet. Obviously that was all fake. She seemed to look flabbergasted at a never-expecting conversation with me, as she slowed her rhythm on brushing my hair. "Well, I literally don't know anything my lady. I was given a quick leave yesterday." She replied politely. I fancied the most as I noticed that she had a heavy British accent. Must have been migrated the countries.
I sighed with exhaustion, there was more things to tell her about the strange occurrences happening over; but I noticed that she was just too young to relate anything, moreover she would get scared.
I noticed that the girl was merely fifteen summers of age, surprisingly she was just a teenager and was working as a servant in someone else's mansion caught my new interest.
"What's your name, Young Lady?" I asked looking her up from the mirror. She seemed to get flustered by the title of 'Young Lady', a small smile was formed along with a pink blush tinted over her face and she said, "Anna." I nodded back, "So Anna, can you answer me why you are working here as a servant. I, err . . . Don't you think a girl of your age should be relevant of having more interest over studies, or dancing?" I asked with my obvious curiosity.
Anna's small smile immediately fell over; and was captured with a serious frown, "My mother is old and she can't get enough money to educate me, my lady," she bitterly stated, "my father died when I was a new born child. Therefore my elder brother was the only one person earning for the family. He was later associated as a British Army and was postponed to India for more than four years." She paused as she skillfully braided my hair into a long fish tail, I encouraged her to continue, "And what happened after the fourth year ended?" I asked looking at her reflection from the mirror.
"He never came back. One of the sergeants informed us that he was killed in a battle; near I guess, um. The Battle of Buxar. Later on he was buried in the country itself." She sighed heavily after my hair was done. Anna moved aside to lead me out.
I stood up from the chair, and placed my hand over her shoulder, "I am really sorry for your loss, Anna." I said with a sigh, I understood the pain she had been faced; loosing a close one was something no one could even try to relate at all.
"Want to be my friend?" I asked all of a sudden. She looked at me with her bottle green eyes which could contain a hint of surprisement. "I," she paused for a while, "I would love to." She confessed and then immediately shook her head with embarrassment.
Smiling gently I escorted her outside my room.
***
"There is someone who wants to talk to you. My Lady." A servant said as he handed me my usual cup of tea. I furrowed my eyebrows for a moment, not knowing how to react. It was already mid afternoon and I was busy checking over a dozen of proof copies, which Eglantine had handed over.
I paused for a while as I placed my pen back at the table. Heading towards the front door, I was greeted by the sight of an irritated Anna mumbling something over herself, while I noticed a boy standing awkwardly on the doorstep. I cleard my throat; letting the two teenagers to acknowledge my presence. Anna seemed to feel relieved at my sight and gave me a reassuring smile, before she left the place. I turned my attention back to the boy. My lips was pursed in a firm line and my head was hurting due to the excessive pressure of the overwork I was doing.
"Was there anything you wanted to say, Young Masbath?" I asked while crossing my arms as I assessed the admittedly mischievous boy out of his trance.
"Mr Crane wants to meet you, now." He trailed off, flipping with his fingers too. I raised my eyebrows up, "are you sure?" I asked looking around.
He nodded again, "he is in the library. He is waiting for you."
I said nothing, moreover I was quite of dumbfounded that Mr Crane had not shown up much this whole day, although I thought he was too tired and was resting furthermore. I shook my aimless thoughts and was about to enter inside my house to grab my bag when Masbath stopped me again and added, "and he has asked to bring that diary too."
My eyebrows knitted up and my lips pursed in a grimace, "Diary? So he told you everything?" I asked, my voice became a little too cold. I paused for a while and crossed my arms with an intact expression. Standing with a stoic look, he seemed to get faltered by my hard gaze and immediately assured, "I was not given much informations, Miss. Mr Crane just said me to ask of a diary that you have." He frantically waved his hand, as if to signify that he knew nothing.
I sighed and occasionally nodded, before turning to bring the both things with me.
***
Once we entered inside the familiar library, I was rationalized with myself. I looked around with curiosity as I realized that the library held lesser people; mostly there were no other person at all. Scanning some of the tables that were further back in the library my eyes immediately settled over a head of dark, unkempt hair. Not far a corner from us.
By our stiff footsteps, Mr Crane pulled his head immediately from the papers and the books he was working over. His head turned to face mine. I noticed a dull expression he casted over the place, before his eyes landed over mine. I gave him a simple nod; and settled myself across his seat. Although my eyes lingered over the paper he was scribbling something before.
Young Masbath settled himself in the farthest corner of the seat; just to presumably give us more of our personal time he had said while our way over the library.
I placed my hand inside my bag, and plonked the diary infront of Mr Crane's face. He seemed to look preoccupied by his previous thoughts, but immediately came out of his trance.
"I am shocked that you still have been working over it." I stated, absent minded over any other things that would disturb us. I drummed my fingers in the tabletop, as I waited for his answer.
His jaw set in a firm line as he heard my remark; but moreover he said nothing. Mr Crane pulled the grey diary infront of his face, examining it for a minute. Meanwhile my eyes landed over the piece of paper he had been writing something back then.
"Can you open the diary though?" He asked, rather impatiently.
I hesitated at first, what kind of question it was? He could open it by himself, if he wanted to. I gave him an odd look before proceeding to open the diary; the numerous pages fell open and fanned in between us.
Before I could say anything; my eyes buldged at a peculiar thing that caught my attention.
A red finger mark was obviously visible in one page. I frowned for a while, looking up at a very stoic Mr Crane, but before my eyes landed back over the same page. It felt as if someone had marked the phrase by blood. I rubbed my eyes for a moment before rethinking what just happened.
I tried to read the word that was marked with a illegible blood message.
'Mortuus.'
I gasped as loudly as possible, my eyes widened as I understood the message. Which only meant one thing.
Death, derived from the Latin Language.
_
_
_
_