Murder at Huntington Manor

Huntington Manor is a place of murder and betrayal.
Willow Taylor is writing an article in History about Huntington Manor.She is told to visit it but there is a myth that whoever goes in there dies, they get murdered by Tobias Huntington the son who was mistreat and caused the death of the Huntingtons. After Willow goes to the house strange things happen to her. Is someone trying to kill Willow? And will Willow be the one to save Tobias from not being loved?
This story is a mystery,a bit scary, fantasy and romance book.


3. Huntington Manor

‘Good morning Willow tree, it is time to get up’ my mother’s auburn hair tickles my face awake. Her smile was wide and her glasses perched upon her thin nose.

‘Hi mum.’ I yawned, not the most social person in the morning.

‘Baby, are you going to do that article today?’ She started to shuffle around my room organising my outfit. I didn’t really tell her that I was going to the Manor; I just said I was going to school. She doesn’t need to know, and if I don’t come back Izzy can tell her what happened. I know that sounds selfish but this is a risk I will take.

‘Yeah I am, I’m going at ten.’

‘Okay, breakfast is on the table.’ She smiled as she left my room. I’m going to miss that smile. No! What am I thinking? I am not going to get murdered; I won’t even go in the house. Like I said observe and then I will come home. Safe.

A quick shower and change later, I head to the kitchen. My brother’s are already at the table. I have three younger brothers and one older James, Harry, Alfie and Mark. They all look like me but have a resemblance of my mum, I take after my dad.

‘Hey Willow tree, eat up and get your energy.’ My mum said, looking up from her own food. She has always called me Willow tree ever since I can remember. I love her but she can’t half embarrass me, because I am the only girl I get treat like a baby. It’s good at times, but it does get annoying.


An hour later, I arrive at the entrance of Huntington Manor. There are huge iron gates with moss and vines growing up them, hiding the family embellishment. The wind is bitter cold up here, which is why you know you are near it gets colder and the wind picks up. You can just see the dark house up the long drive. Locking my bike up to the iron gate I push against the gate. It squeals like a dying animal. A shiver runs down my spine, as if someone is behind me. I whip around but there is nothing. I start to make my ascent towards the house, dead leaves crunch under my steps. Gravestones litter the grounds, probably once a beautiful garden now a dump. Squinting you can just tell dark ash marks circle up the walls. I am not scared; I am not scared I recited to myself.

It feels like a horror film, a stupid girl walks up to the house where she may die. All I need is a man in a ski mask to come and behead me.

I stop a few feet away from the oak door. Un-zipping my camera case, my fingers shake either from the cold or my pounding heart. A small beep from my camera breaks the bitter silence near the house. Crows, which were nesting, rise from their trees in frenzy. Some circling my head; ‘Get away!’ I shouted as a few swooped down to get my camera. Lifting the camera, I take a picture of the main house, the ashen windows and the garden. Just as I turned the camera off, a loud creak again upset the nesting birds. The wide oak door opened to a dusty hallway. Just the wind Willow, no one is there I told myself. Shall I go, no I shouldn’t I am risking my life. But this could be a good story just a picture of that room then I will leave.

My heart thuds as I reach the oak door. A swarm of bats fly out of the hallway, flying off into the distance. The hallway is huge; there is a rag bare rug upon the wooden floor. Candelabras decorate the room, some on the walls others on cabinets. A large cabinet at the end held some old pictures of the Huntington family. A beautiful woman sits upon a great chair with a little girl with blonde curls up on her lap. A male stands behind them, one hand on his wife the other on his waist. No smile, just a look of solemn. Just a normal family but where is....a young teenage boy around my age stands alone in the corner. His head down looking at his feet, a suit to small for him, even though the picture is in black and white you could tell Tobias had ash black hair. He was incredibly handsome, so why was he hated?

Suddenly, a loud bang rattles the chandelier. I turn to see the door is shut tightly; I pull at the handle but no budge. A cold breeze makes me shiver; I quickly start to pull at the handle again. There are small thuds getting louder, I pull harder. My leg starts to vibrate and I realise my phone is in there thank god! Fingers fumbling I pick the phone up, Izzy:

‘Where are you?’ She shouts down the phone. I start to sob, how glad I am to hear her voice. ‘Hey, hey I only wanted you to know I was angry not to make you cry what’s up hun?’

‘House-House, I am in house-

‘What? You are in that Huntington place, I told you-

The phone dies. ‘No!’ I sob. That’s it my last hope. I am just going to take whatever is giving to me. If only I could of said good bye to my family. Pulling on the handle with all my might yet again, I stop.A breath, a whisper tickles the back of my neck, nearly there. Laughter, screams...gets closer and closer. Sunlight lights the dim hallway up, ‘Thank you!’ I shout and I run, run as fast as I can.

©Copyright Samantha Hallwood

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