Ghost of love

Tom finds out his mom has an old Aunt in Wales, the old woman live in a big manor house with her butler James and the ghost of a young woman Eirwen who lived in the early fifteenhundreds. Or so she says, Tom don't believe in ghosts.
Apperantly the young woman was cursed and so was Tom through his forefather, a curse that is the reason Tom will never find true love.
Will he find out the full sad storie about the house and break the curses with the help from a young history professor and his friend ?
Will Eirwen find her true love after 500 years ? And will Tom break his family curse ?

Entered in the monster story Marathon competition.. all three categories

Write a monster story that's really a love story.

Write a monster story that's really a fanfiction.

Create a cover/fanart/trailer inspired by monsters.


1. Curses and ghosts



 I had no idea my mother had an elderly aunt Bronwen in Welsh. Apparently she had fallen out with the family a long time ago, but now she had contacted my mother very suddenly, she wanted to meet me for some reason. My mother had told me she was very old and sick, so I agreed and now I was sitting in a taxi on my way to Oxwich house some way outside Swansea.

 We drive down a long driveway, flanked by tall trees. Then the large square brinck house come into view and the car stops. I pay and get out. It is quite windy out here. We are close to the sea and the air is slightly salt.

 The chauffeur gives me my bag, looking at the big house. "Well good luck son. They say the place is haunted. It always give me the creeps".

 "Luckily I don't believe in ghosts" I tell him, looking at the big house, then back to the driver. "Well have a nice drive back".

 I walk up to the front door and ring the bell. It takes a couple of minutes before I hear footsteps and a very distinguished looking man in a perfectly fitted suit opens. His accent are very much British. "Yes, what can I help you with".

 "Oh hi. I am Tom and I am here to see my mom's aunt Bronwen". I hold out my hand towards him. He looks at it kind of weird, then grabs it and shakes it one time.

 "Well come inside young master. I am the butler James. Your aunt has been waiting for you in the parlour". He closes the door after me. "Just leave your bag here and I will take it to your room".

 He walks up to open a door and I walk into a beautiful furnished room, a little old lady in a very pink dress and matching glasses gets up. "Thomas, finally. Come here and give your old aunt Bronwen a hug".

 She is nothing like I expected and I immediately like her. I walk over and hugs her. "Well it is a pleasure meeting you ma'am and you have a lowely home".

 "Oh bullocks". She slaps me on the chest. "No reason for being so formal, call me auntie Bron everyone does". She says laughing merrily. "Okay then auntie Bron. Please call me Tom then".

 She looks me over slowly, making me a bit nervous. "Oh ain't you a handsome man. You really are the spitting image of him. Oh she will be so happy".

 "Excuse me ? Who are you talking about ? Who do I look like and who will be happy ?" I must admit that I am a bit confused and unsure if she has dementia or something.

 She just giggles and sit down. "Just an old womans ramblings, don't mind me my dear. Come sit down and have some tea. James makes det most delicious scones".

 I sit down and the scones are really delicious. But I have this weird feeling that someone is looking at me the whole time. Trying to focus on what auntie Bron says.



 I float aimlessly through the air as I mostly do, dissolving and collecting myself, not so much that I make myself visible, I am just a shimmer in the air. I am bored, but who wouldn't be after 500 years ? 

 Suddenly a car drives up in front of the house. I am curious. It isn't often people come here. So I look out the window. A taxi stops and a man gets out. He has his back turned, and the first thing I notice is how tall he is. Just like he was.

 When he turns I gasp, wait can a ghost gasp ? It is him, my Bran. He has finally returned, he has come back to me. Come to free me. Oh he looks as handsome as ever.

 I float down in the great hall, watching James let him in. He says his name is Tom. Why does he say that ?  I float closer to him, and now I see the little differences. Bran had dark green eyes, this Tom has lighter eyes and they are blue and his lips are a bit thinner. But the resemblance is almost scary. He must be some kind of family.

 In the parlour Bronwen greets him like a loved family member, I don't listen much to what they are talking about. I am to busy looking at him. Seeing how he moves in his chair like he can't be still this long and don't know what to do with his legs, exactly like Bran used to do. He also moves his hands alot when he talks, a thing Bran also did.

 What I get is that Bronwen has asked him to come here. Does she think that he is the one that can break the curse ? But how can he be when he isn't Bran ?



 As we walk up the large staircase, I am looking at the string of paintings on the wall. Noticing the men are all tall and ginger haired. "So these are the previous owners ?"

 "Yes it is, from the first owner all the way to my father. I am the first woman to own the house". She says. As we reach the last picture I stop in my track. It could almost have been a mirror if it wasn't for the old fashioned clothes, that is how much he looks like me or rather I look like him.

 "Who is this ?" I am starring at the painting. Auntie Bronwen, steps up, putting a hand on my arm. "The first owner of the house. His name was Bran and it is such a tragic story".

 I look at the picture, there is a sadness to his eyes and I can't help asking her. "What happened to him ? What is his story ?"

 "He was the youngest son of a small landlord, but he married a dukes daugther. It was really a step up and unusual at that time, it was just around the year 1500. But the girl was so much in love with him and he charmed the duke". She looks almost lovingly at the picture.

 "But that sounds like a good thing". I say. I still have that feeling of someone standing rigth behind me, looking at me. "Weren't they happy ?"

 She sighs. "I guess they were happy enough, but their great sorrow was that the young woman had trouble carrying children. She got pregnant but lost the child several times. In the end Bran was so desperate he allowed a witch Morgan to move in, to make sure his wife would keep the baby they both wanted so badly".

 "You mean like a woman who knew herbs and medicin and such right ?" I say. My eyes still drawn to the painting.

 The little old woman shakes her head. "No a real witch, an evil manipulative one. She wanted Bran for herself. His wife finally gave birth to a small boy, Brynmor the next owner. But his wife died from puerperal fever. Of course a lot of women did back then, but I think it was the witch".

 "So the witch killed his wife to get him ? Did she manage ?" This is actually turning into quite an interesting story.

"No, Bran fell in love". She say smiling. "He hired a young girl from the village to look after the baby, her name was Eirwen and she was known for her great beauty and sweet soul. Her and Bran fell in love".

 "Why do I get a feeling they never got their happily ever after ?" I feel a sinking feeling in my gut. I kind of know how that feels.

 She shakes her head. "No, the witch was jealous and she abducted the poor girl. Cursed her soul to leave her body. The two parts can only be joined back together by her true loves kiss. But she hid the body somewhere, teasing Bran by leaving him clues. He spend the rest of his life searching for his beloved".

 "That is so sad". I say. Even if the people had just believed in something that wasn't true. Even if the poor girl was simply killed or had an accident, it was still very sad.

 "It is, and it isn't the end of the story". She says, looking up at me. "Bran accused Morgan of being a witch and she was burned at the stake. But before she died, she cursed Bran and every future man in the family. No man bearing his legacy would ever find true love, would ever find real happiness".

 "That surely can't be true. I mean the line survived all the way to now". I say, but my inside clenches up. Is that it ? Am I cursed to never find the happiness I long for ?

 She looks at me, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Having kids don't necessarily means you found true love. Did your grandfather ever find true love ? Have you found it my dear ?"

 "No. I mean I thought I did, but the moment we got serious it kind of all went to hell. But I mean, it will happen, some day. Curses aren't real". I say feeling nauseous.

 She squeezes my arm. "I am afraid they are Tom. The poor Eirwen is still here waiting, hoping for Bran to return and find her body. To bring her back to life".

 She starts walking again and I follow her. "So you are saying here are ghosts ? That the poor girl is still here waiting ?" Yeah I don't belive in ghosts.

 "Oh she is. I see her quite often. Looking out the windows for him to come back to her". She opens the door to a bedroom. "Here is your room. And that..". She points to a painting. "Is poor Eirwen".

 I look at the painting and literally feel like someone pushed me of a cliff. She is beautiful, with porcelain skin, soft curls the colour of dark meltet chocolate and plump red lips. "She was stunning. She kind of reminds me of Snow white".

 "Well her names means white snow. Someone says her story was the basis for the snow white fairy-tale, just her prince never found her to wake her up. So no happy ending yet". She says, looking at me.

 "Yet ?" I look at her a bit confused. And she says softly. "It can still be broken, her true love just have to find her. Might break both curses at once".

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