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.

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1. Prologue

 

 

December 24th, 1883 England.

 

‘Mamma, am I allowed to open my presents?’ Mistress Elizabeth questioned. You see Elizabeth was a creative girl, one who liked to write stories, paint and go into another land.  All of this made her a very curious young lady. She sat upon a stool near the crackling fire. Dressed in her gown for bed.

Lady Jane; looked down at her wonderful child, with her golden curls, and smiled. ‘Ah, my dear it is only Christmas Eve, not day. You will have to have patience till morning, then you can open your presents.’

With a sigh, Elizabeth looked into the golden flames; picturing what will be in store for her tomorrow; a wooden duck, a doll, maybe a new paint set (All which she had asked her mamma for.)

Not once had the family acknowledge the young boy in the corner. He had ash coal hair with dark eyes, a lanky body with which there were hardly any clothes and a melancholy look upon his face.  The dark eyes moved from one member to the other, his mouth open ready to say something. Closing it a few times, he coughed then spoke:

‘Mother, am I allowed to open a present?’ his voice was almost a whisper but Lady Jane heard. Her lips pursed together, and her face scrunched in a look of distaste for her oldest child.

‘Why would I let you, open your presents when I have just told Elizabeth no. Are you deaf or something?’ she asked, once blue eyes now dark with hatred.

‘I heard Mamma but-

‘But! Have I not taught you boy, but is not a word to be spoken in this house. If you want to say it leave!’

Mistress Elizabeth looked up from the fire, and stared at her older brother in disgust. When he caught her eye she stuck her tongue out. Oh how she loathed her brother! Mother told her one evening, when he was getting punished by father ‘He is mentally deranged my dear, he is not one of us just a pitiful boy who has nowhere to go.’ Elizabeth remembered the look her mother had when she enlightened her on this story hate, disgust and embarrassment. Tobias had never left the Manor, always in his room or the nursery. Elizabeth tried to stay away from Toby; he scared her slightly, in case he jumped out and hit her or had another fit like he did last week. Father, of course, punished him for this. Toby had done this to scare young Elizabeth, Mistress heard father shout from his drawing room.

‘Why are you here anyway? Have I not declared to you that you are not allowed in here? Only Huntington’s allowed-

‘So I am not a Huntington?’ Toby asked rising from his seat in anger.

‘Do not use that tone of language with me, you know what will happen!’ Jane squealed like a pig, purple in the face.

‘Am I or am I not a Huntington?’ Toby shouted.

‘Fredrick! He is attacking me again. Fredrick!-

‘Am I or am I not a Huntington?’ Just as this was said a small ball of fire rose from the grate. Mistress shrieked and ran to her mother’s side. The ball starts to pick up speed and go towards Jane and Elizabeth.

‘Fredrick, he is doing it again. Fire! ’ Just as she shouts this the flame falls to the ground near their feet.

Toby’s eyes blazed; as he watched the two scream and run to the door.  They pull at the door but it is locked, Elizabeth starts to bang on the door shouting ‘Pappa!’ The flames start to engulf the furniture first the stool, then the sofa, each piece of decor burning to a pile of ash. Flames start to lick against the wall causing a wall to fall through into the dining room. At the chance of escape Jane and her daughter run to the opening, but the flames are quicker. In a split second a scream then silence...

©Copyright Samantha Hallwood

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