House of Uncanny Shadows E-Book

Leslie Garber

• Herausgeber: Alfredbooks
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 114

Beschreibung

House of Uncanny Shadows Leslie Garber The size of this book corresponds to 100 paperback pages. A young woman returns to her family's dark house in Maine - and meets the horror... And her love!

Leseprobe

House of Uncanny Shadows

Leslie Garber

The size of this book corresponds to 100 paperback pages.

A young woman returns to her family's dark house in Maine - and meets the horror...

And her love!

Copyright

LESLIE GARBER IS A PEN-NAME OF ALFRED BEKKER

A CassiopeiaPress Book: CASSIOPEIAPRESS, UKSAK E-Books and BEKKERpublishing are Imprints by Alfred Bekker

© by Author / COVER TONY MASERO

© of this issue 2018 by AlfredBekker/CassiopeiaPress, Lengerich/Westphalia

www.AlfredBekker.de

[email protected]

1

"It has become cold... Yes, it's autumn!"

The wind whistling through the ancient, gnarled trees that surrounded the cemetery.

The first brown leaves were swirled by the sometimes quite violent gusts of wind from the branches. Not for too long and they would be completely bald.

The elderly gentleman, who had come here on this stormy day, stood there lost in thought and stared at the tomb at his feet.

John Baily - so it was engraved in the grey marble.

"John..." the man whispered quietly. The wind carried the words away and swallowed them. John Baily, that was his son. Now he lay here at his feet under the ground. The elderly gentleman wiped his face briefly. His eyes had reddened. Maybe this was due to the sharp wind, maybe it was also a few stealthy tears of grief and anger. Then, with a quick movement, he raised the collar of his cloak to better protect himself from the icy wind that swept over the graves.

"May your soul rest in peace," he muttered to himself and breathed deeply.

He inevitably had to think of the curse that was said to have been weighing on the male descendants of the Bailys for centuries...

All this talk!, he had always tried to tell himself.

A legend that had formed over time and which was probably not a trace of truth, he had always said.

But in moments like these, he remembered history on a regular basis.

The curse...

In 1697 a young woman was burned as a witch. It had been in a small town on the coast of New England where the Bailys had lived at that time. And one of them - Malcolm H. Baily - had then witnessed the prosecution and testified that he had observed the young woman performing black magic. Before the young woman finally came to a terrible end at the stake, it was said, she had then cast her terrible curse. He was to meet not only Malcolm H. Baily himself, but all his descendants, all of whom would die before their time of unnatural death. But that's not all! The souls of the Bailys would find no peace after death and would haunt and torture the living on dark nights... Yes, Jeffrey J. Baily, the elderly gentleman who was still standing in front of his son's grave, thought, my son, despite all the curses, you have found your peace!

2

Francine Baily felt the letter in her coat pocket and she still didn't really know what to think.

It was a letter from Dad, but it wasn't usually Dad's way of writing letters. It was also strange that it was typed and not handwritten.

Maybe he dictated the letter, Francine had thought spontaneously.

And when she thought about it, she came to the bitter conclusion that the impersonal appearance of this letter fit her father all too well! It was the first letter her father had sent her from the dull, autumnal New England to sunny California since she last saw him two years ago.

Yes, she remembered it very well.

It had been at the funeral of her older brother John, who had died in a tragic traffic accident.

She thought of that cold, unfriendly day and the soporific words of the freezing clergyman at Bangor Cemetery, Maine.

But at that moment she also thought of her father's petrified face.

They hadn't spoken to each other that day. Not a word, although they both might have needed a few comforting words from the other at that hour.

But they had both kept quiet.

Maybe that was wrong, Francine thought now. Especially after this letter in which her father asked her to come to Bangor as soon as possible.

He wanted to reconcile with her and would have accepted that she went her own way, which was so different from what her dad had imagined for her.

Strange, she thought. All that didn't sound like her dad...

But perhaps he had changed and actually realized that there was not only his view of the world.

Francine studied English literature and would one day become a college teacher. Her father, on the other hand, had always hoped that one day she would find her place in his company - just like John, who was to succeed Dad.

But that was all over now.

John was dead, and for Dad, that meant that everything he had worked all his life for had no future. No future beyond the day he would close his eyes. I disappointed him very much, Francine thought when she took the heavy suitcase and left the station concourse of Bangor. Yes, I disappointed him and yet now this letter and this offer of reconciliation came after we hadn't spoken to each other for years, it crossed her mind again. The letter had also included a cheque, because a trip from California to Maine was a pretty big chunk for a student who kept her head above water with part-time jobs. The cheque meant that was no problem for her now. But it also meant that Dad obviously meant it very seriously... Maybe he was sick and wanted a quick reconciliation... She didn't have to think for a second to pack her suitcase and take the plane from San Francisco to New York. And then by train further north to meet her father's big, dark mansion, which was somewhere near Bangor.  

"Francine?"

It was a dark man's voice pronouncing her name.

Francine Baily turned around and looked into a hard-cut face with two cold grey eyes in the middle. At first she was a little frightened, but then Francine's features relaxed again.

"You wouldn't want to say you don't remember me," said the man and Francine tried a smile that she didn't really want to succeed.

"It was just the first moment...", she started and then broke off.

Of course she knew this man! It was Mr. Colin Randolph, her father's nephew and his personal secretary for many years. Francine never liked Colin.

She wasn't sure why, actually.

Maybe it was the dark charisma he had or the cold look in his grey eyes that seemed to penetrate everything.

It was just a feeling she couldn't explain.

"I'm here in the car," Colin explained with great kindness and took her suitcase.

"How's Dad?"

Colin shrugged his shoulders. Then he frowned.

"What do you mean, Francine? He hasn't been a happy soul for a long time... Since your mother died! "I guess that made him so bitter and hard." Colin now seemed to notice the change that had taken place in Francine's face and then said: "Sorry, I had..."

"No, it's okay!"

"I wanted to say, I shouldn't have mentioned it. That was rude of me. Excuse me, please!"

Francine swallowed.

Yeah, she thought that was rude.

But they were facts. Facts that could not be denied. Francine's mother had died at birth. She had never met her. Perhaps Francine's father had always unconsciously blamed her for his wife's death or at least associated her with it. Maybe that's why things never worked out between Dad and me, Francine suddenly thought as they reached the car. It was a fast sports car. Colin had a thing for that. The trunk was too small for Francine's luggage, so he put it in the narrow back seat. Then he made a gesture that was supposed to be inviting and gallant, but in reality was only stiff.

"Please, get in, Francine!"

"Thank you."

3

Colin had a fast-paced driving style that he might have wanted to impress Francine with. But that could hardly make any impression on them, at least not a positive one. She caught herself anxiously clinging to the seat even though she was strapped in.

"Couldn't you drive a little slower, Colin?"

"If you want..." A rather thin smile spread around his lips.

Francine stayed with me. "I want it. Otherwise I could have gone by taxi, they always race like mad... But for them, time is money."

"For me, too!"

He winceed his face to a mask.

No, Francine decided. Nothing had changed between you two. She still didn't like Colin Randolph... It was too smooth, too cold - and too opaque for her to like it! They left the city at high speed, came from big streets onto small ones and had finally reached Jeffrey J. Baily's house, the house in which Francine had grown up. A high wall surrounded the property like a protective wall, behind it were spacious parks and then finally the house itself, as well as some buildings in which servants were accommodated. Colin Randolph stopped the car in front of the manorial portal and Francine got a shower at the sight of the huge house built of grey, cold stone. Everything here seemed gloomy, cold and humid: The air, the weather, the cloudy sky, the house... Francine had already had good reasons to trade this cloudy place for sunny California! But now she had returned here again and now there was probably no going back for a while.

"I'll move the car," Colin said. "If you want, you can go in the house."

"My suitcase..."

"I can take care of that!"

He said that very definitely, as if he really wanted her to leave the car now, go up the steps of the portal and disappear into the house.

And there she would inevitably meet Dad! If she was honest with herself, then she had to admit that she was terrified of that moment. She tried to calm herself down a little by saying to herself that her dad would eventually have called her to him for a reason. No matter how the meeting went, it could hardly get any worse between the two of them anyway. So she shrugged her shoulders.

"Good," she said.

"I'll see you later, Francine..."

"Yeah, sure."

She said that like in a trance. She was already somewhere else with those thoughts.

4

"Who may I announce?" asked a slightly older and very stiff Majordomus, whom Francine did not know. He hadn't been in the house the last time she was here. Francine didn't like his very repulsive manner.

"I'm Francine, the daughter of Mr. Baily. My father expects me..."

Francine reaped a frown for it. But then she was asked to follow the Majordomus. They came into a living room with high windows. At one of the windows was Dad.

Francine saw the back of his stately apparition and thought: What am I supposed to say right now? Everything was spinning in her head. No clear thought wanted to be formed, however much she tried to pull herself together.

"Mr. Baily... Your daughter!"

Mr. Baily turned around and looked at Francine with a half surprised, half thoughtful look. His forehead was wrinkled and around the corners of his mouth there was a hard, bitter tug. That's how she knew her dad, just like that and no different... And yet she loved him with all her heart and that's what made everything so complicated!

"Dad..."

"Francine!" He said that as if he was just now realizing that his daughter was standing in front of him.

"I'm so glad..."

If she was honest, she had to admit that she didn't know how to start. For too long there had been mutual silence, and that now took its revenge.

And yet Francine had a feeling of confidence. If they both really wanted to, then they could find each other again.

Jeffrey J. Baily's forehead wrinkled. He subjected his daughter to a critical examination.

Finally, in a calm voice, he said: "I'm surprised to see you, Francine!"

"It surprises you, Dad?"

"Last time we met, this wasn't exactly a friendly family chat..."

Francine made a helpless gesture. What was that supposed to mean?

Wasn't Dad expecting her? It couldn't have come as a surprise to him that she was standing in front of him. After all, he had asked her to come to him in his letter!

"No, it wasn't exactly a nice conversation, Dad. That's right. But I thought..."

He looked penetratingly at her.

"What did you think, Francine?"

She swallowed and then she heard the voice of the Majordomus.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Baily?"

"No, thanks, Jenkins. Please leave."

"Yes, sir!"

"And please leave us alone!"

"All right, sir!"

And then Jenkins was gone. Mr. Baily sent him a thoughtful look and waited for him to leave. Francine studied his face. She looked into tired, sad eyes, which were underlined by thick bags of tears.

"What is this sudden visit, Francine? Have you changed your mind after all? If that's the case, I'd be happy to hear it. Really! But..."

"I never regretted my decision, Dad! I just had to go my own way. But I always hoped that one day you would understand..."

Mr. Baily swallowed. When he answered, he put all the disappointment in the tone he felt. "Under the circumstances, I don't know what we have to say to each other," he pressed out. "Why did you come, Francine?"

Francine was hit like a blow to the head and it took her a full second to catch her breath.

"Dad, you called me here!"

Mr Baily's forehead lay in deep furrows.

He raised both eyebrows and looked at his daughter in disbelief. "What?" he then brought out.

Francine struggled for breath.

"Yes! You wrote me!"

"I don't know what you mean, Francine. But you're my daughter and since you're here - for whatever reason - I don't mind if you stay here for a while. Your old room is still available..."

"There's a lot of rooms free in here, aren't there, Dad?"

He nodded.