Burnt Ends

At 9:30pm I entered the cracked and dry parking lot of my apartment complex and slid into my dilapidated Chevy tracker. It was a garbage car, but I had gotten it for an unbelievably cheap price. It served me well for my ten minute commute to work every morning. I did long for a better car though. The small size of the car and relative cuteness of it left a bitter taste on my tongue.

I cranked the engine and it rolled over and over like the lazy thing it was before sputtering alive. Pieces of chipped paint fell from the hood and door due to the vibrations and a blast of black smoke billowed out of the back. Normal for the old car. I sighed, use to the thing and had a short fantasy of driving something sexy.

Almost mindlessly I drove to Bayleth manor. The drive was easy, and the roads were empty. The warm breeze, stars above me, and the roar of my cars small engine stroked something masculine in me. I felt good, confident even. I felt like Bayleth manor was but a small blip on my life's path. I turned sharply onto the winding path that led up crag hill to Bayleth manor. I expected I'd find nothing, have a short walk around the manor and see what it may have once looked like.

I took a bend and there in the clearing the manor came into view. My boosted confidence abandoned me as I neared the gate. Something deep in my very being told me to leave now and never return. My hand hesitated to turn my car off as I tried to tell myself that logically nothing would happen. I just wanted to check out the manor. For all legends and tales about it in town I wanted to set foot inside of it.

Taking a dry swallow in my mouth I stepped out of the car; the creaking hinges of the door were the only noise around. I strode forward to the gate before the manor. It was slightly ajar, no doubt left unlocked by the emergency services and numerous reporters from before. I slipped past the gate, thankful that I hadn't gained too much weight since college. Now in the courtyard I finally got an up-close view of the dilapidated and burned remains of Bayleth manor. I have to say, the news cameras did not do it justice. The sheer size and complex geometry of the stonework that survived the fire conjured grand images of the place.

I pressed forward, trying to keep that nagging feeling that kept rising up in me from convincing the logical side of my brain to pack my shit up and leave. I walked towards the single remaining wooden door of the burnt-out house. The parts of the door that survived had breath taking carvings of fairies, flowers and vines. Not what one would expect on such a manor, but who was he to judge the tastes of strange rich weirdos.

I slipped past the door, stepping over a fallen hunk of something. Entering into the skeleton of Bayleth I finally got to see the inside of the infamous manor. It had been burned to a crisp, but the remaining structures conveyed its former existence. I currently stood in what would have been the greeting hall. I could see where a chandelier had once hung and the spiral metal that remained showed where a spiral staircase once stood.

I scoffed thinking about how such a grand entrance for guests was pointless. Whoever once owned this place literally never had anyone over or left. I suddenly remembered what the tv reporter had talked about earlier. They never found a body. They speculated that the manor had been abandoned for ages and no one lived there. They made the bold speculation that it had sat empty for nearly half a century. I didn't believe their words as I had once clearly seen someone in here, but the thought that someone may be here with me stirred up that feeling in my gut.

I pushed forward, moving from room to room. Most were storage, or spare guest rooms. Not much remained, but I was able to clue together what a room once was based on the ashes and the layout of the remaining structures. I passed through most of the first floor. I debated moving up to the second floor, but refused to go as the charred beams that held the place together looked to be inviting me to fall to my death.

There was only one room left in the manor. A small wing to the right of where I entered. Pushing the debris out of the way I made it into the wing. This wing had miraculously survived well from the fire. Much of the wall paper and wooden floor remained intact. I could see the stains of ash and soot, but it remained as the last piece of the manor the fire had left alone.

It was eerie though. Looking at the split from the entrance and the wing, it looked like the fire stopped on its own and left the wing alone. I walked into the wing. Only three rooms here. A closet, an office, and a bathroom. Ignoring the closet and bathroom I pushed into the office. It was perfectly organized. Rows and rows of books neatly lined shelves. Walking along the shelves I noticed a large amount of them were in languages I didn't understand. I think I saw twenty different distinct languages.

After my quick browse of the reading material, I made it to the desk. I looked through the drawers. Pens, pencils, some spare paper and journals were all I found. Nothing was written though. I didn't expect to find anything, but I still held on to some faint hope that some secret remained in the house. I fiddled around with the drawers. I remembered watching some program on tv about hidden compartments in desks. It was a long stretch, but I wanted a souvenir at least.

My thumb brushed against something though. A small knob poked out of the roof of the drawer. My eyes went wide. With unprecedented enthusiasm I pulled the knob. I heard a faint click come from the hallway I came from. I jumped up and ran to the hallway. I looked in the bathroom, nothing. Turning to the closet I flung the door open and found that the wallpaper was now bulging slightly. I pulled my keys out and cut into the wallpaper, revealing a hidden metal compartment. Reaching in I pulled out a stack of books. A quick skim of them revealed them to be diaries, no doubt from the owner or a maid. I could care less though. I found my souvenir. I took the stack in my hands and started back towards the gate, contempt with my loot.

I stopped though. The compartment revealing yet another secret. It was also a doorway. I placed the stack of diaries down and used my key to yet again cut into the wall paper. It pushed open, revealing a dimly lit staircase down. I was more surprised that lights would still be working here to contemplate the serious concerns of getting stuck down there.

I pushed down into the room. It was only a story deep. At the bottom of the stairs was a wooden chair, a desk and an empty robe. It was red and laid on the chair in a way that emulated someone was sitting there. On the desk laid one more book. This one was far newer, looking to have been purchased a few days ago. Picking it up I noticed this one was not completely filled in, but still it was another to add to my collection. The rest of the room was barren, say for the light in the ceiling, a pen on the floor and a lever that had been broken off. I took the book and left, ready to be rid of this manor and excited to read the details of the diaries.

I exited back to the first floor, gathered up the other diaries and carried the precarious stack towards the exit. That feeling I had been repressing all this time came back in full force as I heard a noise in the silence. Footsteps. They were heavy and thunderous in the night. Fear fully took over and adrenaline surged into my body. I was supposed to be alone here, the dim light and ominous black of the charred building created an environment that was most conductive to creating the worst of nightmares. I'm not proud to admit it, but every ounce of my masculine confidence left me.

I quietly shuffled towards the exit. The noises of whatever was in that manor with me was getting closer. I pushed past the rubble for the second time, entering the courtyard. The noises now became muffled and I turned around, pushing myself to move as quickly as I could to get back to my car.

I made it to the gate and then to my car. I fumbled my keys and unlocked the door, shoving the books into the passenger seat. Taking a quick look around I noticed a black SUV parked parallel to the wall of the gate. It blended in so well it could have been here all this time and I wouldn't have noticed until the gargantuan surge of adrenaline pushed my senses into a berserk state. I scrambled into the seat. I needed to leave. I wasn't sure if that was the owner or why they were here, or even if they had been here all along, I just knew once I was gone, I would be safe.

I turned the key in the ignition. The car churned over and over as usual, before it sputtered to life. I slammed the transmission into reverse and backed up to turn around. I pushed it into drive, the car made the sound of gnashing gears, clearly mad at my sudden forceful driving. As I turned the wheel to make my escape, I took one last look at the manor. I wish I didn't.

Standing in front of the entrance to the manor was a man. His proportions were wrong though. I remembered the entrance. It was easily ten feet tall, but that man stood at the same height. He wore a long black coat and even in the dark I could feel our eyes meet. I tore my gaze away and peeled off, promising myself to never return to Bayleth manor.