Lost Art of Mystery

Hannah

A sputtering cough intermittently interrupted the deep raspy breathing as it transmitted from a baby monitor located in her elderly mother’s room. Sighing with annoyance, Hannah reached over to turn down the volume of the “parent” unit on her bedside table. It was November, and she had recently turned 58. The idea of spending yet another holiday season here was a bitter pill to swallow, but she’d long ago accepted the situation as her lot in life. Dragging herself out of the creaky old twin bed in the guest room, she paused as her leg cramped. Cursing loudly while shaking it out, she held back tears of frustration, before bursting out in laughter at the absurdity of it all. She tiptoed down the Persian carpeted hallway, passing dimly lit faux candelabras along the way to her mother’s bedroom to do a quick check. As always, the elderly woman slept soundly, lying on her back. Her head rested on a pale pink silk pillow in the sumptuous queen sized bed, and she snored loudly with mouth agape. Tattered vintage burgundy velvet drapes darkened the room. A sliver of fine dust glittered in the morning light as it seeped from between heavy fabric panels. Stuffy and foul, the room smelled of urine, bleach, and a faint hint of Chanel No 5.

Hannah left the bedroom door ajar as she quietly continued towards the mahogany walled foyer. Pulling on her oversized down coat and slipping into well worn snow boots, she caught a glimpse of herself in the massive ornately carved antique mirror. Alarmed, she hardly recognized the miserable gaunt grey haired woman with a shriveled pale face and beady deep set eyes staring back at her. Hannah took a deep breath and stuffed her phone into a pocket. She unbolted the heavy door, letting in a rush of cold air which she paused to inhale deeply before heading out for her early morning ritual.

As she made her way along the lonely trail crossing the snow covered property, a furious gust of wind whipped up with a terrifying high pitched howl from out of nowhere. The powerful blast rustled the remaining dry leaves clinging to barren brittle branches. Her eyes watered and she pulled the hood tight, shoving her hands into cozy coat pockets. She counted to 10 while she walked along the trail. Out of nowhere, from the corner of her eye, she saw what appeared to be a small bird fluttering towards her from deep in the woods. As it came closer, she realized it was a lone oak leaf. The leaf paused briefly just ahead of her, curling its edges in the wind as if it was trying to tell her something. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, it was whisked up into the air where it hovered momentarily before gently drifting down to the ground. As she passed the leaf, she paused, expecting to see it move again. Motionless, it laid on top of a frayed scrap of faded denim sticking out from a patch of frozen mud. Strange, she thought with a sigh, then kept on walking. Ever since caregiving for her declining mother, she had been having a lot of inexplicable experiences.

Checking the time, she picked up her pace. She had to get back by 10 am to wake her mother for breakfast. Hannah cherished early mornings. It was the only time of day when Dorothy slept soundly, giving her precious time to herself. The path widened as the woods opened onto a large field. A blanket of fresh snow glistening under the early morning sun. She followed the trail uphill to a lookout point where she paused to admire the majestic property that perched on picturesque grounds overlooking a dramatic view of the Hudson river below; the Hanover Family Estate. After a few moments, she continued walking down the path that led to a private bridge to cross the river. She kept going until she reached a long winding driveway lined with stoic cypress trees leading towards the decadent mansion. Ivy had grown over much of the stone facade, and the granite steps to the grand entrance were beginning to crumble. The enormous dark red door, flanked by two onyx statues of Anubis and a large brass gargoyle knocker was in desperate need of a new coat of paint. Even in its state of disrepair, she marveled at the magical appearance each and every time she came back from her walks. She loved to see old photos of the place. In its glory, the Hanover Estate had been a retreat for foreign dignitaries, famous and infamous characters, and even some kings and queens. Countless stories had been passed down over the decades and she’d even built an archive in the library from photos and documents. Her mother had never had much interest or patience, and all of the other relatives had passed on long ago. Hannah felt it was her duty and an honor to preserve the home, even if it meant that one day she would donate it all. There weren’t many properties as intact as this one. Most had crumbled beyond repair, or worse, been bought and “updated” with no regard for the integrity of materials or historical accuracy. The fabulous Hanover Estate on the banks of the Hudson River would be an ideal destination for fall foliage tourists, private events, as well as history buffs from all walks of life.

Back home, she took the oversized brass key from where it was hidden within a crack behind one of the black marble Anubis statues that flanked the entrance. She unlocked the massive front door and slowly pushed it open, gripping the heavy metal handle firmly so it wouldn’t squeak. She didn’t want to wake her mother early. As soon as the elderly lady was up, Hannah’s peace would end for the day. Toileting, dressing, cooking, cleaning, and keeping her engaged was a full time job. This wasn’t something she had ever anticipated, especially at a stage when she had expected to be focusing on her own life, and spending more time with her only daughter, Gemma, who was away at college.

Gemma

Gemma was immersed in her biology program with a concentration in rare species studies, when her mother, Hannah, began falling ill. Initially, she took vacation time to assist her family, but it soon became apparent that the situation at the Hanover Estate was no longer sustainable. By this time, Hannah had been caring for Dorothy for a few years. Between the demands of caregiving and her own declining health, it was obvious that she could no longer handle the situation alone. Elderly Dorothy, being a very stubborn woman, insisted vehemently on remaining in her own home. She repeatedly threatened to donate the entire inheritance to one of her eccentric wealthy neighbors if her daughter and granddaughter refused to care for her. She was violently resistant to any other caregivers. On the rare occasions they had tried to hire in a private nurse or companion, it had been disastrous, and the hired help inevitably left in tears each time. Other than the longstanding household and grounds workers, Dorothy only allowed her daughter or granddaughter on the property. Not even her daughter’s ex-husband could enter the home without encountering fits of rage and resistance. The family doctor, (who Dorothy thought was very attractive), was allowed to visit every 6 months for a wellness exam, and that was about it. With Gemma away at college, the bulk of responsibilities fell on Hannah. When Hannah first began to get sick, it appeared to be a typical case of “caregiver burnout”. Gemma came during college breaks and helped as much as she could, but it soon became obvious that this wasn’t going to be enough.

Dorothy

Looking back, things started to go downhill the year Dorothy turned 60. A notoriously vibrant, moderately eccentric, confidant and beautiful woman, she’s always lived an active life with a myriad of friends and a schedule jam packed with social engagements. Independently wealthy, Dorothy had never needed to work. Her favorite hobbies, other than fashion and attending or throwing lavish parties, were her prized flower gardens, where she would spend hours on end. When in season, she picked the spectacular blooms and created elaborate arrangements for the grand foyer. Guests marveled at the gardens, and they often took “invitation only” walking tours with her to admire the variety of roses and topiaries she designed and had executed by her master gardeners.

One day, however, everything changed. The last thing Dorothy remembered was that while cutting some of her favorite bespoke peppermint pink peonies, she noticed an ominous dark shadow figure lurking in the bushes. Alarmed, she quickly stood up, got lightheaded and felt faint. Falling hard, she hit her head on an Italian marble fountain featuring a statue of Pan pissing into a seashell. Fortunately, she was found by her gardening staff who immediately took her to the hospital. A small cut was stitched up and the doctor advised her to rest for a few days. Initially, after her brief and swift recovery, she seemed fine. However, during the weeks and months following the accident, her behaviors began to change. It was small things at first. She began placing fresh cut flowers in the toilet instead of a vase, and misplacing kitchen items. The milk would go missing, only to reappear in the oven. Things disappeared and reappeared in random places. Then came the dramatic personality shifts. Always a very chatty social person, Dorothy became unusually quiet and would often be found staring into space with a flat affect. She stopped going to social events, and became more and more reclusive. When she did open her mouth to speak, it was in angry accusatory outbursts. She developed fixations on the past, especially on her ex-husbands and former lovers. Most of all, she began to obsess over her appearance, scrutinizing every detail of her physical self. A former beauty queen, she maintained her elegant style and kept her dyed blonde hair styled in a coifed bun. She had always taken great pride in looking much younger than her actual age. Always a vain woman, that vanity now escalated. Around this time, she began to spend inordinate amounts of time in her powder room, putting on skin creams and fussing with makeup, then removing it all with cold cream and tissues, repeatedly. In the beginning, her violent outbursts centered around the skincare not being good enough quality, blaming the cosmetics companies. She raged and screamed into the mirror in hysterical fits, hurling glass jars of creams and lotions against the walls. She shattered mirrors and tossed piles of shredded tissues onto the floor, continually making a huge mess for the housekeepers to clean up.

Scouring online fashion magazines and home shopping networks, she obsessively sought out the latest in beauty products. Dorothy began demanding that Hannah order and pick up exclusive skin creams when she went into the city for her medical treatments, even if it meant driving far out of her way. She’d always been a selfish and self-centered woman with narcissistic tendencies, but after the fall, her narcissism escalated. She was frequently mean, sarcastic and bitter. While applying the latest products, she complained incessantly about the small lines forming around her eyes and lips. She pulled her face in front of the mirror, threatening to get a face life in the spring. Rubbing her chin, she would command her daughter to pluck the hairs that seemed to grow at an alarming rate. She screamed with rage when she was woken up too early, claiming that others were robbing her of precious beauty sleep.

The condition progressed. At her wits end, Hannah scheduled a call with a physician and a neurologist, and they concurred that it sounded like early onset Alzheimers or dementia. They surmised that the symptoms might ebb and flow, but it was likely triggered by the fall when she hit her head, coupled with a genetic predisposition. Her condition indeed progressed, and over the following months, after dusk, Dorothy’s personality would take a turn for the worse. Confused, disoriented and lost, her conversations looped and she didn’t know where she was. or even recognize her own daughter. Once in bed, she would toss and turn, yelling out randomly at imaginary beings hiding behind the curtains and in her bathroom. Regularly, it was a small child who stood at the foot of her bed glaring at her with blood red eyes. Another recurring delusion was her ex husband and his lover breaking in to steal all of her belongings. The old boyfriend who threatened to kill her and her entire family. Most disturbing of all were the outbursts when Dorothy would howl and gurgle like an animal, then shriek that nobody should enter the estate without her approval. She would go on a strange tirade about how they must protect the home from invaders, especially the invisible ones. And above all, she would adamantly proclaim, “never invite anyone in unless I have agreed!” Hannah found herself getting up multiple times every night not only to provide assurance, but to assist her mother, changing adult diapers, and making sure her every need was met. It was exhausting and she was sleep deprived and falling into a well of depression. She wanted it all to be over, yet had conflicting emotions and a tremendous load of guilt for thinking such thoughts.

Each night, there would be a lull of peace from midnight until about 2 am, after which her mother’s agitation would once again escalate. Rabid and erratic, she began getting out of bed, putting on a full face of makeup. Initially, she paced the hallways, calling out names of her ex-husbands, cursing them interchangeably. She would carry a metal candlestick and swing it wildly at imaginary enemies. Shortly thereafter, she began to pull on her coat and leave the house from the front door to wander. At first, Hannah followed her and even tried locking her inside, but this only exacerbated her mother’s outbursts, and she would throw heavy objects like vases and books through the glass paned windows to escape. Hannah watched in desperation as she trailed behind, but once outdoors, her mother settled down, behaving a lot like her old self, and became soft and friendly. She claimed she just needed “fresh air”. If Hannah attempted to call her back into the mansion from the front doors, Dorothy would run towards the woods flailing her arms while screaming and growling like a wild animal at her terrified daughter. Hannah gave up on trying to get her to return as the elderly lady always came back by 5 am, miraculously got back into bed on her own and slept soundly until 10 am. This became something of a routine and Hannah did her best to work around the schedule. She would wake her mother at 10 am daily, and over time, she was shocked to notice an impressive increase in Dorothy’s overall vitality.

The Party

Hannah’s health had never been great; sickly as a child, she’d been able to manage her various conditions up until now. However, caregiving for her mother, gave far less time for her own health, and she had even needed to quit her research job at the local historical society, which she loved dearly. As time passed, she saw herself age rapidly and started to experience inexplicable aches, pains and weight loss. Meanwhile, her mother, Dorothy, was getting stronger daily and ate like a horse. Due to her vigilant skincare regimen and pricey products, she was looking younger and had a renewed energy and zest for life. It was almost as though she was aging in reverse, while Hannah was rapidly wasting away and losing all of her vitality.

Due to Hannah’s health condition and Dorothy’s unpredictable outbursts, they decided to host the annual holiday party at the mansion, instead of celebrating at a cousin’s upstate country home. Dorothy was in rare form, and almost like her old self when it came to planning the affair, something she had excelled at and done throughout her life. The extravagant menu would be prepared by personal chefs, and they hired in professional party planners to have the entire place decked out. Holiday decorations filled the entryway, and a huge fir tree was elegantly draped in vintage tinsel and tiny white lights with a rotating crystal angel glowing at the very top. The grand fireplace was lit, the Steinway polished, and the place looked outrageously sumptuous and decadent. A local jazz trio was hired to perform during and after dinner. The guests were some of their long time neighbors who had been invited over for an early afternoon of cocktails followed by a decadent feast. Dorothy made her grand entrance to the party dressed to the nines, in a fabulous full length crimson gown with a fitted bustier and multiple pearl necklaces covering her chest. She looked magnificent. Her skin glowed, giving her a powerful aura. Lush false lashes enhanced her glittering blue eyes, while her long blonde-grey hair was swept into a flawless bun. Although she used a cane, it seemed she barely needed it anymore. Meanwhile, her daughter Hannah appeared pale and thin. Her dull brown hair was flat and oily with grey roots. Her complexion dull and sallow, bloodshot eyes within large dark circles were visible even in the low light. The red lipstick only accentuated her gaunt features. She wore a simple black turtleneck dress with brand new patent black pumps and a vintage gold mistletoe necklace garnished with rubies.

Soon after, Hannah’s daughter, Gemma arrived, having taken the train up from the city. Rushing through the door, a ball of youthful energy, she wore an oversized hot pink puffer coat along with matching knit hat with rabbit ears and snow boots. She tossed her backpack in the corner and ran to hug her mother. A tall and big boned girl, she was beautiful, vibrant and bubbly. Her curly brown hair cascaded down her back and she had her father’s deep olive skintone along with her mother’s blue eyes. The energy of the place immediately elevated the moment she walked in. She was flourishing at university, and couldn’t wait to apply for her PhD. Her enthusiasm was contagious and even her mother perked up in her presence. Hannah listened intently as her daughter told her all about college life. She was especially excited to talk about a young man she had recently started dating. It was her very first serious relationship. Enjoying meaningful conversation was something the mother and daughter had missed out on due to the situation with her grandmother. Meanwhile, Dorothy was in great form and she focused on impressing the other guests with her tales of the all of the famous people who had visited the estate. Gemma loved her mother and felt a deep sadness seeing her trapped on this property. She didn’t know what to do to help, but she wasn’t ready to give up her own aspirations and dreams at such a young age. Her mother didn’t ask or want her to either. It was just a very difficult situation with no great solution.

During dinner, the neighbors remarked on how impressed they were with Dorothy’s improved condition. She gushed and glowed with all of the attention lavished on her. It was remarkable. Perhaps it was the candlelight, her makeup, or all of her luxurious skincare products, but she appeared vastly younger than her 85 years. She giggled with delight when the personal chef came out to offer her a special drink he had created just for her, he called it the “I adore thee”, yes, a play on I adore Dorothy. She brazenly flirted with the young man, staring into his eyes as she carefully pursed her crimson lips to take a slow sip, while batting long lashes. It was hard to imagine that this was the same woman who, after sundown, became so wild and unpredictable, with no comprehension of time or place. Unfathomable that she needed adult diapers and yelled nonsense intermittently as she wandered deep into the woods. Confused glances were exchanged amongst the guests who were aware of her health issues and had heard rumors of her strange behaviors.

After copious amounts of wine, one of the guests, an elegant former prima ballerina from NYC, wearing an oversized multicolored crystal encrusted feather headdress with an all white sheer sequin embellished bodystocking, leaned over and whispered to the elderly overweight man next to her. She cupped her hand over his ear and asked if he’d heard about the missing local woman. His bloodshot green eyes widened as he perked up with curiosity and jaw dropped as she whispered some more details. Dramatically mouthing “Wow”, he downed his full glass of wine and pushed thinning wisps of silver hair over his bald head. Slowly twisting a diamond ring around his thick pinky finger, he digested the information. Suddenly, he loudly cleared his throat to interrupt the rest of the table. Everyone turned in his direction, and he asked them whether anyone had heard the scandalous news of the woman who had gone missing last month. The guests started to clamor in with ideas and theories. Most assumed that she had run away. The gorgeous, wealthy young newlywed had recently moved up from the city with her handsome husband. The general consensus being that she was “one of those rich ‘stay at home wives’ who had nothing better to do than go to yoga, pilates and get her hair done”. Her husband commuted for his Wall Street job, and would stay in the city for a few nights a week, while she tended to the small farm they had bought. There was a lot of gossip about the couple in the area, since anytime someone new arrived, they were greeted with suspicion and hyper critical judgement. Especially those “nouveau riche” city folk. Apparently, the couple was converting the old farm to raise organic vegetables. She was friendly with the locals and had even invited some of them to visit the property. In addition to the small farm, they had a few goats and two horses. Apparently, last month when he got back from his work week, his wife was nowhere to be found. The horses were out of the barn, and the goats had gotten trapped inside the mudroom where they’d made a terrible mess. The house was unlocked and her personal items left untouched. The group quarreled over the possibilities and one of the guests even had a friend in the local police force who had told him that it was a strange case with no substantiated leads. She basically vanished without a trace. No signs of foul play. Everyone had theories ranging from alien abduction to human trafficking abduction. Of course many attributed her disappearance to a juicy wild online or international affair. It was a real life mystery.

As the guests bantered and went into detail over the missing woman, they were so engrossed that nobody noticed when Hannah quietly excused herself. After a few cordials and luscious cakes, the party retired to the living room around the fireplace. They sat on the victorian sofa and overstuffed brocade chairs, embers crackling in the background as they continued to chat and banter late into the night. The caterers refilled their brandy glasses and passed more desserts which they gorged on with great pleasure. Gemma, who was worried about her mother, went to check on her a few times. She was alarmed by how gaunt her mother looked, and sat by the bed watching the small faded eyes flutter open and closed. She asked her what the latest prognosis was, and whether the doctor had changed her treatment plan. Hannah just slowly blinked her eyes and moved her head side to side. “Mom, you can’t keep going like this. I’ve decided to take a semester off to help grandma. I can do my studies remote while you recover. I’ve made the arrangements. Sam even offered to come up and visit me here. I’m so excited for you to meet him! Mom? Mom. Mom! ” Her mother was still. Her breathing very shallow. Hannah gently touched her mother’s frail arm, shocked at how thin and cool it was. She looked like a skeleton lying there with hollowed out cheeks and grey complexion. “Mom? I want to help. Mom?” Tears welled up in her eyes and dropped onto her soft downy cheeks. She stared at her mother through the tears and saw a glimpse of her in her younger years, when she was a vibrant woman, working as a researcher for a historical society. It was hard to believe this was the same person. She had a moment of cognitive dissonance. It was interrupted as her mother slowly lifted her hand, and held it high up as if saying stop. She then slowly pointed an emaciated finger at a photo on the wall. Taken a few years back in front of the Hanover Estate grand entrance, the three generations of women stood together arm in arm, each holding a bouquet of fresh picked flowers. The family resemblance between them uncanny. She motioned with her finger at the photograph and opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Then she let her arm fall to the bed, and let out a long loud gurgling expiration. Gemma stared in shock and felt for a pulse. Her mother was not breathing. She waited a moment, then tried again. In shock, she jumped up and called 911, who instructed her to check again. Nothing. The ambulance was called. The party had been ending, but the sound of the ambulance arriving sobered up the remaining guests and they huddled together in concern. The paramedics rushed into the foyer and down the hallway to the guest room where her mother was pronounced DOA. The guests clamored around to find out what happened. A few of them, including the kitchen staff gathered around to reassure Dorothy who had dramatically collapsed onto her chaise lounge in a pile of red taffeta and tulle. A small group followed the gurney to the doorway. In shock, they stood in the foyer huddled together watching the red flashing lights trail into the distance.

The funeral was held on the private family plot overlooking the Hudson River. A damp chill lingered in the air, and the skies were streaked with grey clouds as continuous sleet and rain fell. Dorothy sat in her wheelchair, draped in a plaid woolen blanket. She was dressed elegantly with a speckled black veil, dark red lipstick and black lambskin gloves. Holding the umbrella over them both was Gemma, dressed in a simple black suit with an overcoat, knit hat gloves and scarf. The only other attendees were the caretakers for the property, a couple of the neighbors from the party and the funeral attendants. In the distance, Hannah’s ex husband, Gemma’s father, stood, occasionally wiping a tear from his face. It was an ice cold day with a dangerous winter snowstorm on route. After the service, Gemma took her grandmother back to the estate in their chauffeured town car, and the housekeepers helped to set her up in the living room by the fireplace. Once in the kitchen, Gemma’s tears flowed freely, but as soon as she stepped into the living room, she wiped her face swiftly and pulled herself together as much as she could. She knew how Dorothy despised displays of emotion and the last thing she wanted was drama. She brought tea and cookies to her grandmother, and sat across from her in the overstuffed wingback chair. Dorothy calmly sipped her tea. Looking up from her tea cup, her eyes locked on Gemma’s. She cleared her throat. “You know, Gemma, your mother” she paused, her lips looking tight and thin. She continued, “well, we all know that she was never ever a healthy child. She had a weak constitution, dear. From the very day she was born. Thankfully, you’re a much stronger person. You’re a lot more like me. You know, they say that the granddaughter is gifted most of her genetic material from her maternal grandmother, so you’re very fortunate. It’s sad about your mother, I know it is, but this is how life goes. We have to accept things. Acceptance is key. Reality waits for nobody. We cannot grieve forever. We need to move on. I’m not planning on going anywhere soon, even though I have health problems of my own. Obviously, I’m going to need your help, as I’m sure you’re well aware. Have you made arrangements with your University? I know you can do some sort of remote schooling and I’m counting on you being here for me during my time of need. Without your mother here, I cannot manage alone and you well know where I stand regarding hired help. I am absolutely not moving out of my home, and nobody is moving in! Unless you want to forfeit your inheritance, which I know you don’t, especially now, since everything, including the estate is to be willed to you. Caring for me is a small price to pay, because once all is said and done, you will never need to work again. It’s the only option, my dear.”

Nocturnal Activities

Moving into the mansion, Gemma adjusted the best she could. She shifted her routine, getting up at 5 am every morning. First thing, she would make herself coffee, then eat breakfast and do her studies. At 9, she would set out for a daily walk; rain, sleet, snow or sun, just like her mother had done. It gave her time to breathe and find balance. She continued her education online, and although not ideal, she still excelled. Immersing herself in learning was the only way she could deal with this chapter of life. Then there was Sam. They texted and FaceTimed frequently. He had a way of grounding her when she started to spin out. The schedule with her grandmother was difficult, but she was young enough to manage it. By 10 AM she was back at the estate and her life belonged to Dorothy until sundown. Dorothy’s requirements were demanding, but as long as she had her free mornings, she could handle it. And she knew deep down that it was not forever. And, having Sam was a lifeline. He told her he would visit and that date couldn’t’ come soon enough.

Gemma had a desk set up in her bedroom next by the window where she could study and stay on high alert for her grandmother. She kept the baby monitor with her at all times. Like clockwork, she would hear the rustling noises from the elderly lady’s room as she started her nocturnal activities. Dorothy continued to morph after sundown and wander late at night. Looking out across the snowy landscape towards the adjacent darkened forest, Gemma kept watch for her grandmother who would eventually emerge from the wooded path, and walk up the steps through the front door. She always appeared in the same fashion, walking slowly with her cane through the night in a daze, wrapped in her coat. Quietly opening and closing the door behind her, she would leave her boots in the foyer, and head to her room, where she was back in bed and sound asleep until 10 am. It was strange to Gemma, but the sense of routine was comforting to her in an all too uncomfortable situation.

Night came, and along with it, the usual breathing sounds streamed through the baby monitor. The rustling began like clockwork, as Dorothy began her nocturnal activities. This particular night, she began talking to herself. Gemma tried to understand the guttural whispering voice and got chills as she heard a second voice chime in. The two voices were having what sounded like a heated argument in strange whispers. Inhaling and exhaling to think with logic, she dismissed it as more of Dorothy’s dementia behaviors, exhibiting variable moods and personalities was not unusual. She sighed and turned the volume down as the elderly lady could be heard heading down the hall towards the front door and exiting into the night. Gemma turned to focus on her studies, watching videos of mysterious deep sea creatures. Some time passed and as she dozed in front of the screen, she was alerted to an eerie howling sound coming from deep in the woods. She immediately turned off the small lamp on her desk and closed the laptop. Peering through the blinds, she looked over the snow covered lawn, towards the pine forest, and listened intently. There it was again, a terrifying scream followed by a deep guttural howl. Chills ran up and down her spine. The crystalized snow gleamed under the full moon. Her breath became shallow as she felt a sense of absolute terror creeping over her. She wondered if she should go out to look for her grandmother, yet she was paralyzed by fear. She texted Sam. The horrendous howl came again, only now it sounded much closer. From the stark blackened outline of the night forest she watched in shock as her grandmother emerged being chased by the silhouette of a strange beast. She was horrified as she watched the two fall into a dark heap on the snow-covered ground. There was a wild tussle which Gemma watched from the window. Frozen in sheer terror, her eyes widened in horror as a dark stain spread around the two figures on the snowy backdrop. Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the altercation abruptly stopped. She watched, wide eyed, as the old woman leaned down over the strange beast, hovering and overshadowing it with her figure.

Hiding behind the shutters, Gemma cautiously peered out and saw Dorothy slowly turn around and head back towards the mansion, her face darkened with what appeared to be blood. Gemma gasped fearing that she was injured and bolted out from her bedroom down the stairs to the grand entrance. She threw the doors open and yelled out to her grandmother. The old lady, was now using her cane and making her way back towards the entry as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. She appeared her usual self. Her grandmother smiled, and slowly opened her mouth to speak. ‘Why are you up so early, dear? I’ve been taking a nice leisurely stroll under the full moon. Go back to bed now.” Gemma was horrified seeing the mouth of her grandmother full of stained teeth. She looked across the snowy landscape for evidence of the bloody battle. The snow was pristine, other than a path of footprints leading towards the woods.

Gemma watched in shock as her grandmother made her way with ease back to her room. Discreetly following behind her, she heard the old woman humming and singing under her breath. She waited a bit in the hallway, listening as the elderly lady went about her nighttime beauty regimen. There were sounds of water running, jars opening and closing, followed by rummaging through hangers in the closet. Steathily walking down the hallway, Gemma held her breath as she reached her grandmother’s bedroom door. There, she caught a glimpse of Dorothy standing in a long black evening gown in front of a full length mirror. The sheer silk was trimmed with copious ostrich feathers and she wore a pair of high heeled red satin mules. Her long bleached blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and she smiled at herself as she applied lipstick over and over, smearing it around her lips, all while laughing hysterically and baring her darkly stained teeth. Aside from the hideous grin and lipstick, she appeared far younger than her age. In fact, she looked to be in her 30’s. Gemma gasped to herself, covering her mouth, as she silently backed out of the doorway. She gripped the walls of the long hallway to steady herself as she walked in a daze to her own room.

It wasn’t dawn yet, but the light of the full moon illuminated the vast lawn with its sculptures and gardens. Sitting in the dark by the window, Gemma scanned the property for evidence of the strange and shocking incident. The pristine snow revealed nothing but a neat path of footprints between the mansion and the entrance to the forest where her grandmother traveled nightly. She squinted her eyes and stared into the darkened shadowy dense pine trees. No movement, nothing. She watched like a hawk from her perch until the sun began to rise and the landscape softened into a gentle vision. The baby monitor emitted a few random rattling noises coming from Dorothy’s bedroom as the lady rifled through her cosmetic jars. Soon came the sound of rustling sheets, followed by a loud sigh an exaggerated yawn, then the sound of steady shallow breathing with an intermittent gasp. Gemma turned up the volume on the receiver and listened a few more minutes, before getting up to check on her grandmother. Walking down the hallway, she paused to look into the room. Dorothy slept quietly under her luxurious comforters, her blonde hair shining and splayed out over the silk pillows. She had a soft look on her face and with her smooth skin and even skin tone, she appeared shockingly youthful. The air smelled fresh rather than stale, and the energy of the room was oddly different. Gemma decided to make a coffee and go out for her morning walk. She needed the fresh air more than ever. Perhaps she would find evidence along the trail of the strange nocturnal activities. Once outside, she walked and walked and fell into a strange daze. Inexplicably, she was drawn in a trance, deeper and deeper into the woods.

The air was frigid and still. An eerie light streamed through the silent forest as the sun rose. Only the sound of her heavy boots crashing through the crusty snow interrupted the silence. Suddenly, a hawk shrieked high in the trees, compelling her to look up. That’s when she saw it. Within the ominous stark black branches tangled overhead, a dense mass that appeared to be an oversized nest was wedged high up between two branches. She made her way to the base of the tree and craned her neck for a better view. She blinked her eyes in shock and squeezed them together before blinking some more. The large object appeared to be breathing! It grew ever so slightly upon inhaling, then with a barely audible sigh, exhaled a puff of condensation into the arctic air. She felt paralyzed by fear, but she needed to know what this thing was. Examining the tree trunk and the area below, she noticed what appeared to be a trail of dried blood meandering through the textured bark, pooling into a large stain in the snow at the base. As she scanned the area, something else caught her attention. A few scraps of torn denim scattered in the snow. She leaned down and carefully picked up a frayed square, noting a drop of blood on the corner. She looked upwards again, and the mysterious object exhaled, emitting a loud moan. What appeared to be a figure within it moved slowly as a strange opening in the tarp appeared, revealing a pair of bloodshot blue eyes peering down at her. Muddy fingertips pulled back the opening to reveal part of a woman’s face, the collar of her denim shirt torn and bloodstained. Her eyes widened as she looked at Gemma and slowly mouthed the word “help me please” over and over again.

Animal Instinct

Gemma urgently searched nearby for few large rocks that she furiously unearthed using a dead tree branch. With what felt like super human strength, she placed the rocks at the foot of the tree to reach a branch, and began climbing. Adrenaline surging, she hoisted her body and swiftly scaled the tree. Within seconds, she reached the woman and repeatedly told her she was going to be ok and that she was here to help. She continued talking nonstop while she pulled and tore at the thick knotted sack with her bare hands until they were raw and painful from the cold. She told the woman to brace herself for the drop to the frozen ground below. As she ripped and yanked, the knot suddenly came undone, and she clung to the large thick cloth bag as they tumbled down as one. Miraculously she felt no pain. On the ground next to her, the sack lay motionless. The opening was closed, and as she gently pulled it back, a beautiful woman’s face was revealed, stained and swollen, yet looking pale and peaceful, eyes closed and completely still. Gemma inhaled sharply, fearing the worst.

Suddenly, the woman coughed and gasped for air. She opened her eyes, blinking a few times at Gemma. Her pale eyes were watery and the pupils grew larger and larger. Gemma gently squeezed the woman’s shoulders and told her, “It’s not safe here! We need to leave. It’s almost dusk. We have to go now! ” The sky had shifted and it was late afternoon. At this time of year, the sun began to set by 4:00. She leaned down and opened the strange sack, asking the woman if she was in pain and whether she could move. Miraculously, the small body shifted, an arm slid out followed by her entire body, as she stood up slowly on steady feet. She seemed in shock and made strange motions with her hands and arms. Her entire denim outfit was shredded and blood stained. In a raspy voice the frail woman spoke. “I’m Samantha, Samantha Morris. My husband Jack and I moved up here from the city. We bought the old Kincade farm. I was feeding my horses in the barn. After that, I can’t remember a thing…”

Gemma held Samantha’s arm to steady her and took her coat off to wrap around the frail woman. The adrenaline surging through her veins gave her superhuman energy. She asked Samantha if she would be able to walk faster and without hesitation they both went from walking to a steady run through the snowy path towards the distant exit from the pine forest, their heavy breathing and boots smashing the crusty icy surface echoed through the frigid atmosphere. They approached the breach between two enormous pine trees just as the sun was setting and emerged onto a large snow covered field. Pausing to catch their breath, they watched a large family of deer stare at them briefly. The animals flicked their white tails before turning in unison and bounding across the snowy terrain.

Home

The two young women continued to race across the expanse until the mansion came into view. Pausing once more to catch their breath, Gemma told Samantha that they would be safe soon. Approaching the stone steps to the entrance, heaving with exhaustion, Gemma reached for the large key and carefully inserted it into the massive red door. As she slowly opened it, she turned to Samantha and whispered, “we need to be quiet. My grandmother’s sleeping. Don’t want to wake her early.” She froze momentarily, then stood up straight. “Wait. Umm, wait a second, what time is it? Oh my God! Oh no, oh no, how did this happen? It’s nearly 5. I’m so confused. How did this happen? I need to check on her, so please, please be quiet. I’ll show you where the guest quarters are, you can clean up and get some proper rest.” She swiftly walked through the entrance and pointed Samantha down a corridor that had several doors. She whispered to her to use the room behind the blue door, lock it and stay there until she returned.

Gemma rushed through the mansion and made her way down the grand hall where she paused as she heard female voices and laughter coming from the great room. Getting closer, she let out an audible sigh of relief as she heard her grandmother bantering loudly and laughing with one of the housekeepers. As she entered the room, they both got quiet and Dorothy shot her a glare with steely eyes. “Where the hell have you been! Thank God Penny came to check on me this morning!” She shot a look at Penny who nodded in agreement, her wirey grey curly hair bobbing up and down, dark eyes crinkling in her chubby weathered face. “I just stopped by to change out the linens, and I found Miss Dorothy all alone in her powder room. I know you always take such good care of her, Gemma. Honestly, I was worried. I’m just relieved to see you! I’ve changed the sheets and made her breakfast. She’s been up for some time. We’ve been chatting here by the fire and having a great time! Isn’t that right Dotty?” Gemma exhaled and smiled with relief as she thanked her for being there. Penny started to gather her belongings, picked up her heavy striped woolen sweater and stuffed her large arms into the thick sleeves before pulling on her gloves and overcoat. She stood up to go and lifted a large canvas bag of laundry from the floor next to the lounge chair. Gemma noticed dark stains on the crumpled sheets. She gasped and blurted out, “Is that blood on those sheets? Is grandma ok? What happened?!” Penny glanced nervously at Dorothy then smiled awkwardly and told her that she had gotten a small cut while cleaning up broken glass cosmetics jars in Dorothy’s powder room and used a sheet to stop the bleeding. She promised to replace it. Gemma told her not to bother as she walked her out to the front door. Curious, she stood outside the door as she watched the small woman totter down the steps with her laundry basket on her arm before disappearing around a bend towards the guest parking lot behind a row of trees. She heard Dorothy yelling for her from inside the mansion and quickly headed back to tend to her grandmother’s needs.

Dinner Guests

Dorothy wanted her late afternoon tea to be served. She was hungry and impatient. Gemma went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. The cook was in the midst of prepping vegetables and fish. She interrupted him and asked if he could add two more servings for the evening dinner. She took the small gilded tray of tea and home made shortbread cookies out to Dorothy, who greedily devoured the late afternoon treat as she loudly sipped her hot chamomile by the fire under a soft faux fur throw. Gemma sat across from her and after a pause, told her that they would be having guests at dinner tonite. A young couple. Dorothy perked up with a strange smile. “Oh, really? And, since when do you invite strangers to my home? How do you know these people? Who are they and where do they live?” Gemma sighed. “Grandma, trust me, they’re a nice respectable young couple. New neighbors. It’s only for dinner. You will like them.” Her grandmother sucked her teeth a few times, before dozing off in her big comfy chair.

Gemma softly knocked on the blue door. No answer. She knocked again and the door creaked open. Samantha was dressed in a plaid guest robe, and looked as though nothing had happened. Her face was freshly washed, her hair was clean and smoothed into a soft bob, and the bruises and scratches were barely visible. She told Gemma that she had rested well, and she wanted to call her husband. She had no idea where her cell was, but she knew her husband’s number by heart. Gemma handed her the phone. Samantha dialed the number and when her husband answered, she immediately began blurting out to him how much she missed him and that he had to come get her. She went on about how she had been lost in the woods and she’d been found by a neighbor. Gemma interrupted, and told her to invite him to dinner. She asked if she could take the phone and she briefly spoke with Jack, letting him know that his wife Samantha was fine and in good hands. She told him that the police had been notified, and all he needed to do was to come pick her up. She insisted that they have dinner before leaving and he reluctantly agreed. She gave him directions to the Hanover Estate and he said he would be there within the hour.

In the kitchen, the chefs worked fast and furiously preparing the last minute dinner for 4. Wine was brought up from the cellar. Gemma wanted the couple to feel comfortable, safe and welcome at the estate after all that they’d gone through. Her grandmother bellowed from her bedroom that she needed help with her hair. As Gemma walked down the hall, the scent of gardenia perfume floated in the air and got stronger as she reached Dorothy’s boudoir. She entered the doorway to find her grandmother standing there in front of the mirror, wearing a pale peach silk pantsuit with a white lace ruffled high collar and cuffs. She had her hair pulled up with one hand, as she reached out with the other, holding a rhinestone encrusted tiara which she demanded be attached to the French twist in a tilted fashion. Gemma gently placed the crown to her grandmother’s liking and used combs to secure it to her platinum coif. The lady reached for a bright coral lipstick and reapplied it as she stared at herself in the mirror. Smiling and pouting her peachy lips, she stared at Gemma, blinking her heavily lashed and lined eyes, “I really think the creams are working, don’t you dear? You might want to invest in some for yourself. Never too early to preserve your youth! You know what they say, ‘Over time, the maintenance goes up, and the market value plummets!’ She turned back to the vanity, and picked up a large crystal perfume bottle which she spritzed all around herself, before pivoting to admire her ensemble in the full length mirror. “How do I look? I think it’s the perfect opportunity to wear this suit. I’ve been just waiting for a reason to put it on!” Gemma smiled and told her she looked fabulous and that the guests would be ready soon, so they should head to the dining room. As Gemma caught her own reflection, she noticed how tired she looked and she told her grandmother that she would need take a few minutes herself to refresh before meeting everyone for dinner. Dorothy sniffed and turned before gliding down the hallway in her peach ensemble, her heels gently tapping the rug as she made her way. She yelled out a “You hoo, chef…” and two of the kitchen staff rushed out from double doors to assist her with situating herself at the beautifully set table. She fussed with the centerpiece, adjusting the flowers. The chef came out and his jaw dropped at her transformation. His hand trembled as he poured her a glass of champagne. “Why, Miss Dorothy! You. You look incredible. Absolutely stunning!”

As she sat alone at the table sipping her glass of champagne, the elderly lady sniffed the air. Her nose crinkled and she sniffed again, looking around nervously. Her face flushed and she began to breathe heavily. “Chef, chef! Come out here at once!” The double doors opened as the chef burst through to find Dorothy pacing the room, smelling the air and looking behind doors. He asked her what was wrong and she shushed him as she continued her search. She paused and stuttered slightly as she asked him, “Is someone here? There’s a, well, there is a fragrance in the air, and it isn’t mine. I am assuming the guests may have arrived? Gemma didn’t tell me they were here yet, I’m just wondering…” The chef reassured her that they had not yet arrived but he would let her know when they did.

Meanwhile, Gemma had changed into a soft green mohair knit dress and a denim jacket which she paired with Doc Martins. She had her long curly hair down and her skin glowed with very little makeup, just a touch of lip gloss and mascara. She wafted by the dining room and glanced at Dorothy as she told her, “I’m on my way to greet our guests, you’re gonna love them Grandmommy, I know you will. They’re from the city. You know, they bought that old Warner property and are turning it into an organic farm. Samantha and Jack. They might be sophisticated and young, but they love and appreciate architecture. Samantha is transforming the place to an organic farm. She’s very excited about it, and I’m sure they’ll want to take a tour of the property and your gardens. Dorothy laughed sarcastically, and gave her an ice cold stare. “Hmm. Sure, can’t wait.” She quipped, holding up her champagne glass for a refill as Gemma exited the room and headed down the guest room corridor.

Just then the door chime rang and Gemma called out “I’ll get it!” Samantha joined her in the hallway and as she opened the door, Jack rushed inside, wrapping his arms tightly around his wife. “My love I’ve been so worried! God I’m so relieved. Are you ok? What happened?” Gemma interrupted to invite them into the foyer where he took off his coat and wrapped Samantha in his cashmere cardigan sweater. Gemma told her she could come upstairs to borrow something to wear for dinner while Jack could meet her Grandmother, Dorothy, and have a glass of champagne to unwind. The three of them walked through the hall way towards the dining room where Dorothy sat, looking very demure. She couldn’t hide her excitement as she saw a handsome man appear. Gemma paused and cleared her throat, “Jack, please meet Dorothy, my grandmother. Grandmommy, this is Jack, Samantha’s husband. Samantha and I will be right back Why don’t the two of you chat and we will join you shortly.” Samantha had been waiting just outside the entryway to the dining area, wearing a guest robe with her husband’s sweater wrapped over her. Gemma grabbed her hand and took her upstairs to her room. She rustled around in the closet and selected a pair of leggings along with a ruffly high collared black lace tunic which fit Samantha perfectly. Samantha stood in front of the mirror looking calm and relaxed, which surprised Gemma, considering the state she’d found her in. As Gemma searched her walk in closet for a small handbag, Samantha reached over to a small burl wood chest and picked up a pair of earrings from a small glass tray. Gemma emerged from the closet holding two vintage beaded petite bags, one red and one black. She held them up to show Samantha and asked her which one she liked better. Samantha responded by holding the earrings to her ears with a smile. “I like these.” she said with a tilt of her head. Her eyes lit up as she excitedly asked Gemma if she could borrow them. They were antique gold earrings with a red ruby drop. They had belonged to her mother. Gemma awkwardly said yes, even though she felt uncomfortable letting someone else wear them. Samantha smiled as she put them on and asked if she had any red lipstick that she could borrow. Gemma rummaged in her bathroom drawer and pulled out a brand new Chanel lipstick. She opened the box and handed it to Savannah. She watched as Savannah slowly applied the deep scarlet lipstick, carefully and precisely, before she pouted, then giggled sweetly, “I love it! It’s the perfect shade of red for me, don’t you think?” Gemma nodded her head with a forced smile, and told her that is was time for them to head to the dining room. Savannah held the lipstick up with a coy look, and whined, “Can I keep her?” Again, Gemma nodded, and muttered, “sure of course, let’s get downstairs now, I’m sure they are waiting.” Savannah smiled and dropped the lipstick into the tiny red crystal beaded bag that she had chosen. She paused, and stared at Gemma, her crystal blue eyes watery. She slowly blinked long lashes as her pupils noticeably dilated to the point that her eyes looked much darker. “Thank you for everything. Gemma, thank you for inviting me into your home,

Sundown

Entering the dining room, they found Jack seated next to Dorothy who was squeezing his bicep through his button down Oxford, while showing him an old photo album. They seemed to have already had a bottle of champagne and another one was being brought in by the server. Gemma cleared her throat to interrupt the conversation. “Well, here we are. I’m starved and Samantha is too. I see you’ve been captivating Jack with the history of this place, Grandma?” Jack laughed and stood up to pull out the chair next to him for his wife. She slowly walked over to him and smiled as she sat down. Dorothy hooted, and then exclaimed, “Well, well, well. Finally I have the pleasure of meeting you. Jack has told me so much about you, and the farm sounds just so adorable. I will have to give you a tour of my fabulous gardens in the spring. Everyone raves about them. I don’t go out as much anymore, but they have been maintained and by June my peonies will be on full display.” Gemma cringed at Dorothy’s bragging, and felt herself get anxious about the time of day and what might happen as the evening wore on. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Dorothy. I’ve wanted to visit Hanford Estate for some time. Not necessarily under such circumstances, but nonetheless, here we are. Let’s toast!” She seemed in jovial spirits and looked like she’d just walked off the runway, rather than having been rescued from a tree trap in the forest. Gemma was very confused and experiencing yet another bout of cognitive dissonance. The waiter opened the champagne and poured it into the iridescent crystal flutes and they all clinked glasses. “Cheers! Salute, A Sante!” Starters were brought out and a sumptuous feast began. Dish after dish. Gemma was surprised that the chef was able to pull it off, but it was delicious. Dorothy dominated the conversation with stories of famous visitors and not so famous ones too. She seemed to have a sharp memory for the past, but it wasn’t long before she began looping again and again. Gemma winked across the table at Samantha who smiled knowingly.

The dishes were removed and the lights dimmed as dessert was to be served. The double doors opened from the kitchen and the chef emerged carrying a beautiful small cake on a tray with a candle and a single rose. He brought the cake over to Dorothy and she turned to smile at him, her wine stained teeth revealed for all to see. He played along and flirted back. “For you, my queen. To Dorothy, Queen of the Castle! ” He pronounced, before offering her up a special treat he baked just for her and her new friends. She clapped with delight. Dorothy just loved sweets, and Gemma tried to hide her elevated anxiety, knowing all too well that sugar was the worst thing for her grandmother’s dementia and it meant that tonite was guaranteed to be a wild and wooly one.

They retired to the sitting room where the fireplace smoldered and cast shadows around the cozy room. Dorothy yammered nonstop and began asking the guests if they knew her ex-husband. Then she started asking about her long deceased mother. When Dorothy began wandering around the room, searching high and low for Ernie, (a cat who had been gone for 15 years), Gemma knew it was time to get her to bed. She glanced at Samantha who was already standing and Jack headed to gather their coats. He extended his hand and thanked Gemma for the wonderful evening and above all for finding his wife and bringing her home. Samantha seemed tipsy and excited, her eyes were completely black as she stared at Gemma with a strange grin. “Yes, Gemma, you did the right thing. Thank you for the invitation.” Gemma laughed awkwardly and told Dorothy, who was crawling around the sitting room searching under furniture, that she would be right back to help her search for Ernie. She walked them to the door and watched them head out arm in arm to his black SUV parked in front. Samantha turned her head and glared at Gemma, this time her expression appeared angry, brows furrowed and her lips tight. She stared and for a barely perceptible moment she smiled, baring what appeared to be fangs right before her husband closed the car door. Jack turned to wave and smile at Gemma. They pulled out and she stood there watching the taillights disappear into the distance. As she went back inside, she could hear her grandmother yelling, “Where is he? What did you do with Ernie? Where is my cat? Where is he? Tell me!” Gemma sighed and exhaled. “Grandma, let’s go upstairs so you can get ready for bed. We can look for Ernie later. I’m sure he’s just out and about doing cat things. I’ll let you know if I see him. He’s got to be around here somewhere.” Dorothy huffed and puffed and headed out of the dining room. Gemma walked her to her bedroom and helped her get ready for bed. She was winding down and became oddly subdued. “I think I’ll go to bed now dear.” Gemma calmly tucked her in and made her way to her room to relax. She texted Sam and updated him on all of the crazy happenings and asked him to visit her soon. He hadn’t come up yet and she wanted to see him in person. It was all starting to get to her at this point and she needed his support. He told her he was already in his car and on his way.

Midnight

As she continued to text with Sam late into the night, Gemma could hear her grandmother’s heavy breathing through the baby monitor sitting on her desk. The breathing would typically stop intermittently due to sleep apnea. If it stopped for too long, she would nervously venture down the hall to peak into her grandmother’s room to be sure she was still alive. As usual, the silence would be broken by a raspy cough and sputter, followed by a long pause and finally a deep breath. 

Her concentration was interupted by a sudden crash of thunder. She thought it strange in the midst of winter. It was followed by a flash of lightening. She quickly googled the phenomenon and found out that it was called thunder snow, and although rare, it could be dangerous. She watched from the window as the snow began to fall in swirls and lift again in the powerful winds over the dimly moonlit lawn. Another loud crash of thunder came again, this time much closer. A strange buzzing vibration began to rattle the entire floor. It seemed to move from the floor up the walls and back down. It escalated in volume until there came a loud pop and the lights went out. Fortunately, her phone was charged and the baby monitor had an emergency battery. She fumbled for the small flashlight that she kept in the desk drawer. She sat on the edge of her desk chair gripping the flashlight in one hand, her phone in the other. She continued to text Sam and tried to explain what was going on. She paused and listened. The brief silence was followed by what sounded like multiple voices in hushed tones coming from her grandmothers room. A deeply resonant foreign language was being spoked in an aggressive manner. She heard Dorothy crying out in a frail and fearful voice, “no, no, no. Please, no!” Gemma turned up the volume on the monitor. She leaned in, laser focused and listened in sheer terror. Her heart raced, she could hear her own blood pressure rushing in her ears and and felt fluttering in her chest. Suddenly, another voice chimed in. This one was clearly female, and spoke in a sharp, urgent staccato whisper. “I’m here now, it’s my turn. Me. Dorothy, I’ve been invited in. It’s my turn. I’m here now. Get out! Get out! Get out!” Dorothy cried out loudly, her voice frail and cracking. She then heard her grandmother cough and gasp for air. Paralyzed with fear, she listened in shock as a deep gurgling sound was followed by another gasp, then complete and utter silence. All that remained was the static sound coming from the baby monitor. Gemma texted Sam urgently begging him to respond. He called her and told her he was pulling up the drive at that moment. She grabbed her backpack and quickly shoved her laptop and a few things into it before swiftly exiting her room and silently bolting down the stairs and out the front door of the estate. As she exited, she saw the headlights of Sam’s car approaching, and she ran towards the vehicle wildly waving. He pulled up next to her and she opened the door and jumped in, slamming it and locking it as she pointed to the mansion, and blurted out, “someone’s in there, something is happening, someone. I don’t know, I don’t know. Grandmommy. What should I do. I can’t go back inside!” Sam leaned over to comfort Gemma and he told her they could go to the police and figure it out. She looked up to Dorothy’s bedroom window and noticed a flickering light. She squinted as it became brighter. She pointed to it and as she and Sam watched, the window swiftly filled with flames and smoke began to seep outside. “My god, we have to call the fire department!” Sam dialed and she watched in horror as the glass panes of the window burst and flames lashed out wildly into the frigid night air.

Exit

Watching in horror, Sam called the fire department. Gemma stared in shock. Shaking violently, she gripped his arm as she pointed frantically towards the front entrance of the estate. There stood Samantha, casually leaning against one of the statues of Anubis, staring back at them, with a terrifying expression on her face. Flames had started to engulf the entire upper level of the property and the glow of the fire lit up the night sky. Sam backed out and turned the vehicle around to head down the driveway as the lights from the fire engine could be seen coming up the hill. Gemma watched the rear view mirror in shock as she saw Samantha standing on the grand staircase making strange motions with her arms and turning towards the burning facade. She held her arms up high and shook them violently before turning around make her way down the path, across the vast snow covered lawn until she vanished into the darkened woods.