The Hunters: The Haunting of Berry Pomeroy Castle

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SokothQultuq
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The Hunters: The Haunting of Berry Pomeroy Castle

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The Hunters: The Haunting of Berry Pomeroy Castle
By: Daniel Ratterree & Annie Browne

Synopsis
The first adventure of new hunters Samuel and the soon to be recruited Amelia. Set against the backdrop of the English countryside and the famous Berry Pomeroy Castle. The hunters set out to determine why these vengeful spirits remain tethered to this place and how to send them into the afterlife to return peace to the people that live near the castle.

The Hunters
Charles Cornelius Vanderbilt – Proprietor & Financier
Ling Hwang – Researcher & Suan Ming
Samuel McKenzie (Character played by Daniel)
Amelia Thompson (Character played by Annie)

Notable Characters
Lydia Strangefellow – Head of House/Caretaker of Berry Pomeroy Castle
Barron Edwin Seymour – Owner of Berry Pomeroy Castle
Clara Seymour – Wife to Edwin Seymour

Index:
Prologue: Family Betrayal
Part 1: Time to get to work
Part 2: Dark and Dangerous
Part 3: A One-Way Ticket to doom.
Part 4: Vengeful Ladies of Berry Pomeroy Castle
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Re: The Hunters: The Haunting of Berry Pomeroy Castle

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Prologue: Family Betrayal


Edwin Seymour paced rapidly in the hall outside one of the bedrooms in the manor house of Berry Pomeroy castle; if it were not for the heavy flagstone flooring, he might have worn a trough into it. His footfalls echoed through the castle as several of the house servants looked on but kept their distance.

He stopped suddenly hearing his dear wife cry out from the room beyond, through the heavy Aspen door. It was a painfully cry, woeful. He moved towards the door reaching for the handle but dared not throw it as he knew he would be scalded beyond measure by the midwife for breaking Clara’s concentration, she needed focus, and poise. After all, even in child birth someone of her status had to have poise.

One of the servants had moved close, likely to stop him from barging into the room. He recognized her, her name eluded him, he searched his memory, it was enough to keep him distracted from the sudden outcry from beyond the door. He glanced over. “It’s alright Justine. I know.” He said holding up a hand. “I know.” He turned to continue his pacing.

“Beggin yer pardon sir, but if you continue you might wear a hole in the ground. Want me to send good ol’ Abbott down to fetch you a chair sir?” she asked watching him return to his pacing.

Edwin shook his head, “No, no. I’ll pace as I please. There is no danger of a hole in the ground. Don’t be daft!” he said a bit sharper than he probably should but she got the point.

“Shall I fetch you a cup of tea sir?” she asked.

He stopped and stared at her a moment considering that request, it was reasonable. “Yes, tea would be nice.”

“Very good sir, I’ll be back smartly.” She said bowing and retreated down the hall.

He watched her go, she had been a loyal servant and perhaps cared a bit too much for both him and his wife. The separation of the ‘help’ and family had been dwindling and it was starting to wear on him. He would have to make an example soon to keep things as they should be, but now wasn’t the time. Not today of all days.

There was one last cry from beyond the Aspen door, and then the sounds of a child crying.

Edwin rushed forward and through the door quickly. “Is it done?” he asked standing just beyond the door, still holding onto the handle.

“Tis done sire.” The midwife said holding the baby aloft. “Alas it is a girl.”

Edwin felt his heart sink. “A girl?” he repeated.

“Yes sire. A girl.” She repeated again.

He looked at his exhausted wife, then back to the baby. Slowly he turned and exited closing the door quietly behind him. Each of the servants who looked on with hopeful eyes turned to dismay.

“Edwin!” he heard his wife cry out.

He paused for a long moment and seemed to be conflicted and then disappeared down the hall out of sight without a word.

“Mary, my daughter please.” Clara asked holding her hands out.

The midwife walked over and gently lay the baby in her awaiting arms, then turned to start cleaning up the mess. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“No thank you, I have everything I need right now.” Clara said.

“He’s going to come back for her eventually.” The midwife said. “You know what he’s going to do.”

“I know.” Clara said softly, her voice was shaky. “Will you take her?”

“I… I can’t.” the woman said bundling up the mass of cloth. “I’m sorry.”

Clara stared deep into her child's eyes but sorry blurred them with tears. "What..." She started to ask and hugged the child close to her chest. "What do I do?" She looked to the midwife, her eyes pleading.

The woman shook her head, and stopped closing her own eyes. She went about arranging the cloth and tying off one of the sheets around her neck and shoulder, she stuffed it with the dirty sheets then moved over holding her hands out. "I will figure something out..." The woman said, tears in her eyes. "Buy me sometime." She said stuffing sheets around the newborn then finally over the child gently, creating a passage for the air to reach the child. "I'll get her to safety."

"Bless you!" Clara said rubbing the tears away from her eyes. "Bless you!"

"Goodbye miss." She said bowing slightly, then disappeared out the door.

Allyson had smuggled away unwanted children before, this was no different. No less dangerous. She had nearly died her last attempt so she had vowed never to do so again but the look of terror and sadness on Ms. Seymour's face made it impossible to say no. She knew what would happen to yet another failed attempt at an Aire for Mr. Seymour. He would toss the child in the river, or so the rumors told. He was known through the land as a cruel monster, ruling the land with a heavy hand. But in recent years it became known that he and his wife had been trying to have a child, an Aire with which to maintain the throne. "Come little one, we have a dangerous journey ahead." She whispered as she moved past the other servants of the house. She dared not let them know, but she too could see the look in the eyes of the servants that they had little hope for the child.

It didn't take long for Allyson to find her way through the Castles main house and to the courtyard, and all this time the child had stayed relatively quiet, only moving occasionally which supported the fact that the child continued to breath.

"STOP!" A voice cried out somewhere deep within the home.

Allyson looked back at the main door which was still open, she took off running across the courtyard heading for the main gate to the estate, her feet plodding in the puddling water and mud. She ran for dear life, as she was indeed running to protect not only her own but the child.

"STOP!" Again, the voice called out, this time it was outside on the porch.

Allyson looked back to see Mr. Seymour standing on the stoop pointing at her. He was dwarfed by a couple of armed men. "No!" She yelled and continued to run, passing through the gates at the front of the castle and out onto the main road. She started down the path towards the forest and the town beyond.

Her foot falls were loud as ever in her ears, her heart was pumping and pounding in her ears as she ran as fast as she could down the slight hill. She heard it coming, the first arrow whistled past her hitting the ground in front of her it's shaft vibrating in the mud, she continued to run now pushing herself further and harder.

Allyson felt the impact, and her body spun around and sent her sprawling across the mud, sliding to a stop. Her lungs screaming and the sharp pain. Looking down she could see the tip of the arrow just sticking out of her chest. She gingerly reached for it, and coughed as her lungs tried desperately to fill with air but they were quickly losing the fight against the blood filling them.

She held her head aloft looking back towards the gate and between her and the gate about half the distance was Mr. Seymour holding a longbow, another arrow was nocked and pulled back. She raised her hands and shook them trying to ward off the vengeful man. The arrow was a blurry streak, it stuck with such force it slid her further down the hill, she felt the white-hot searing pain from her abdomen, and the heat of blood as it oozed from the wound, the shaft vibrated in the wind sending waves of pain through her body. Her head fell back and hit the mud, she could feel her life draining away, the rain fell in gray streaks, she watched as darkness closed in and slowly faded into nothingness.

A grin spread on Edwin's lips as he watched the woman go down from the second arrow, how violently she was hit and spun only to go careening across the muddy ground. He nocked another and pulled it, he could see her head come up looking back at him in disbelief and he let that arrow fly. Again it struck her violently sending her sliding further down the hill. She seemed to be done for at that point as he watched her head come back up but only for a moment long enough to fall back and her body to go limp.

Edwin approached her body, another arrow ready. He used the tip of the arrow to push through the sheets and nodded at his precision. The second arrow had struck its target, he never-the-less pulled back on the bow string and loosed the last arrow to ensure the deed was done. He nodded, a pained look in his eyes but only for a moment before he turned to walk back to the Castle. He met two of the guards and jerked a thumb. "Clean that up!" He said sharply. "Burn it!"

He continued on dropping the bow and quiver at their feet. His eyes came up as he spotted something he didn’t expect. His wife was standing on the overlooking balcony. She was shaking visibly. He wasn't sure if it was rage, fatigue, or the cold. "Clara, go back inside. This instant!" He yelled.

She was shouting something, he jogged forward to get closer, then cupped his hands. "Go back inside Clara, now!"
She stared down at him. "You’re a Monster!" She yelled. "You killed that woman, and our child!" She screamed.

"I killed a thief!" He shouted back.

"No!" She shouted thrusting an accusing finger down at her husband. "You’re a murderer! You killed her, and our baby! You'll pay! God as my witness Edwin Seymour, you will pay. Never again will you live in peace here, never again shall you rest easy in this place. Never again!" She shouted.

Lightning streaked across the sky and crackled, the light was blinding and the sound deafening, as his eyes adjusted to the low light he watched as his wife, the love of his life dove off the balcony out of reflex he jumped forward thinking to catch her but she was too far away. Her body made a sound that made him shy away from the shear violence. Turning back at her mangled body, he watched as she rolled onto her back, her breathing was labored, she coughed sending a gout of blood onto her lips.

He came to stand over her looking down at her face. "Why!" He said.

Her lips moved but no sound came out, her eyes grew wide as she struggled for breath. Finally gathering up the last bit of resolve, she whispered. "Never again..." And went limp.

Edwin stared down at her lifeless body, the rain falling steadily. He watched as the rain slowly swept away the pool of blood that formed around her, and at his feet. "You were weak!" He shouted. "You couldn't even manage to bare me an heir!Good riddance!" He stomped his way past her and through the house, nearly bowling Lydia.

Lydia stared in disbelief at the lifeless body of Clara, she had only been the head of the house servants for a short time and mostly because Clara had pleaded with Edwin to make it so. She had been faithful and earned it, but Edwin had been determined to not let it be.

"Lydia!" He heard Edwin call from inside.

"Yes sir!" She said peering back through the door.

"I require your assistance..." He said as he headed up the large staircase.

"Yes, sir!" She said stepping back through the door. "But the..."

"Never mind that, the boys can deal with it." He said pointing to one of the guards.

"What shall we do with the misses?"

"Burn it!" He said as he disappeared out of sight.

Lydia watched in continued disbelief as he disappeared, and reluctantly followed.

It had been nearly a month since Clara had passed away, Edwin had continued to spiral down deeper and deeper into darkness, becoming cruel and abusive. He had taken Lydia, she wanted nothing to do with him and was ready to leave but he had threatened her life. Promised if she said anything or tried to leave he would hunt her down, she would give him what he needed and for that she despised him, no loathed. He had been the death of the woman whom she had come to love in her time working at the estate.

Lydia was making her way slowly up the stairs it was laundry day and she had just finished folding, a chill had come up and a draft came up the stairs sending a pair of socks sliding across the floor. Lydia's eyes followed them, and that chill grew more profound not just on her skin but she felt it to her core. She took a step toward the socks and then stopped as one of them started to slowly spin in place.

Her eyes grow wide as a white mist seemed to grow out of thin air, and it seemed to fill the hall for a moment, then it started to rush in towards the space just above the socks until it began to form an image, a familiar image. It was Clara, she stood looking down at the socks.
"Clara?" Lydia stammered.

The eyes came up first, then the head. Her expression was neutral at first and slowly a smile grew on the ghostly images lips. She mouthed something, and it took a moment for Lydia to realize what she was saying.

"Never again?" She asked, her skin felt cold and prickly. Lydia got that sinking feeling in her gut that something wasn't right.
Edwin appeared in the hall form a door. "Woman what ar..... what the hell!" He jumped as he clearly figured out what he was seeing in the hall in front of Lydia.

Clara turned and peered down the hall, her lips curled into a smile and she waved.

"That's....that's not possible!" Edwin stammered.

Clara turned back to Lydia, then rushed forward suddenly, passing right through her.

Lydia dropped the laundry holding up her hands, the intense feeling of cold, dread, and sorrow filled her as Clara passed through her, the force took her off her feet and sent her tumbling down the stairs. She felt every impact as she went down, and as she landed at the base of the stairs darkness closed in, the last image she had was of Clara peering down at her, a sorrowful look on her feature.

"No!" Edwin yelled as he ran to the stop of the stairs, he could see the unconscious form of Lydia at the base of the stars and watched as Clara slowly disappeared from sight. "That's..."

One of the guards appeared suddenly with his weapon drawn. "Sir..." He said looking up at Edwin. "What happened?"
"Clara!" He said pointing down at Lydia.

The guard looked down at Lydia then back up at Edwin. "Sir?"

"It was Clara!" He stammered out.

"My Lord, she's passed on to the afterlife." He said sheathing his sword as another of the guard appeared. "We will get Ms. Lydia to her room and call for the doctor." He said as he scooped up Lydia's unconscious body.

"No, you imbecile, she was right there plain as day! Do not refute this!"

"Yes, my lord!" He said and disappeared from sight with Lydia.

Edwin stood staring at the space that his dearly departed wife once occupied. "No!" He said and turned stomping his way to his private study slamming the door behind him. He crossed the room to the Alcohol cabinet and poured himself a small glass of Brandy shooting it quickly, then pouring himself another before retreating with it and the bottle to his desk. He let out a breath he had not known he was holding and closed his eyes.

"Never again!" He heard the voice whispers. He shot from his chair and swung the bottle of brandy but only found a faint cloud of Vapor which disappeared.

"No! You will not do this! You’re dead, you're not here! Go away, I command it!" He yelled.

A shiver ran through Edwin, it was as if he was suddenly chilled to the bone. His breath even appeared as a mist in front of him. He slowly turned back around, and floating just above the desk was his dearly departed wife but she wasn't alone. A woman, this one in blue whom he recognized were staring back.

"Never again!" They said in unison, the voices were shrill and cut him to the bone just as the cold did.
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Re: The Hunters: The Haunting of Berry Pomeroy Castle

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Part 1: Time to get to work


Charles stepped into the dining room at the Hunters manor and tugged his smoking jacket straight, he had to look smart for such an occasion. The table was already occupied by the few of his flock that had not been sent on missions around the globe but today was a special day. His newest member was to get his first mission. Slowly he crossed the room, as he came into view of some the chatter died down. He allowed the silence to hold for a moment before settling into his chair.

"Morning Sir." Sam gave him a nod as he looked passed his paper.

"Good Morning Mr. McKenzie, how are you this fine morning?" He asked as tea was poured for him.

Sam folded the paper and set it aside for the moment and nodded after a brief moment of consideration. "Slowly." He said.

Charles laughed. "Indeed." He took a quick drink from the teacup and set it down gingerly. "But that is going to be short lived,"

"Really?" Sam asked leaning forward, his curiosity was piqued.

"Quite so my boy!" He said pulling a letter from his smoking jacket pocket. "Your first go." He said with a bright smile. "You've healed, and learned what you can from this place. It's time you sought out what’s next!" He said with a wave of his hand.

"What's next?" He asked opening the letter, and began reading. An eyebrow arched as he continued reading over the letter. "Is this..."

"A joke?" Ling asked peering over her cup of tea. "No.'

He blinked re-reading the letter. "This is a letter from a child is it not?"

"Indeed. But the most interesting view's children have on the world Sam. Never discount a child, even if it seems impossible. It matches about two dozen others from various townsfolk in the area and what's come through other channels." Charles said with a nod. "Never-the-less it is your first mission."

"What is this, a spirit infestation of an old Castle? How do you fight a spirit?" He blinked staring at the letter in his hand. "This should prove interesting."

"Be careful Sam," Ling said. "This is very dangerous."

Sam regarded the young Chinese woman, he had come to know her as a seer of sorts, much like one of those people you would find at a carnival or circus. She frightened the hell out of him the first time they had truly met and she revealed her power to him. It was astonishing and entirely frightening. He knew that when she had something to say about such things it was serious. He nodded to her. "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind. I suppose I should look to the Library for source material on how to handle spirit's?"

Ling simply nodded.

Charles was far more vocal. "Indeed, my boy, you're getting it!" He said with a slap on his thigh and a pointed finger. "We will make a full fledge hunter out of you yet!"

"Salt and Iron are a good place to start." Ling said quietly as Charles stood and picked up his tea. She watched as he left the room for the Study, and looked back to him. "Salt wards, and iron will defend you, it won't kill spirits and it will likely make them angry. The salt won't work forever but it helps." She said with a smile.

"You are the Library, you know that?" He said offering her a smile.

She grinned and nodded knowingly. "That I am. But I caution you as before this is a very delicate situation, you must be very careful. Spirits are not to be trifled with."

He shook his head in the affirmative and stood finishing off what was left of the tea in his own cup. "Seems like I've got some study work to do!" He said and started for the door.

"Sam!" Ling said turning, she had a strange look in her eyes. "You will find something else important on this journey. Be mindful of who you run into and how you deal with them as you may have a profound effect. More than you might believe."

"Something specific I should be looking out for?" He asked holding the door open.

"Small Ninjas, and..." She had a pained look on her face. "Red and brown!" She shook her head.

"How cryptic." He said with a chuckle and left. He had gotten used to her small bouts of strangeness over the months he had been spending at the Hunter's Manor. This was no different. He was always hard pressed to see what it was she was talking about, most of the time it was just simple coincidence. Half the time nothing she said made sense. But this was by far one of the most cryptic. He turned and headed down the hall past the stairs towards the Library wing of the house. Yes, an entire wing of the large estate was a Library, biggest collection he had seen in a person's care in his life, and it yielded all kinds of fruit.

Sam spent the better part of two days researching the area's history and the location in question. It certainly had a rich history, and most of it was not exactly positive. A few owners as it had changed hands due to a variety of reasons. Fortunately, it was not the sight of much death or destruction as the Castle had avoided most conflict. Maybe by design or by luck so large amounts of death or the possibility of mass graves was at least out of the question.

It took Sam entirely too long to pack, that was about when he had realized he had gotten entirely too comfortable with his current arrangements. He actually didn't want to leave. It was not nearly as elegant as his former employers but it had become home. This was the first time in nearly a year since he had arrived that he was going to be leaving for any extended period.

"Berry Pomeroy Castle...here I come!"
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Re: The Hunters: The Haunting of Berry Pomeroy Castle

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Part 2: Dark and Dangerous


Light brown locks swirled around a pensive face looking out over the bustling docks. The cool wind smelled of the salty ocean air mingled with the filth of the neighborhood around the docks. A figure approached her from behind, “Lady Thompson, your Aunt will have arranged a carriage for us and the crew is going to allow us to disembark the ship first.” The ship rolled a bit as he said this, and the pale young man pressed a kerchief to his mouth to quell another bout of the nausea that had been his constant companion during their voyage.

Giving a resigned sigh, she murmured, “I’m not a lady, Mr. Edwards, we’ve been over this already.”

His face was decidedly green as he responded, “Your aunt is wife of the esteemed Baron Blachford.”

“That is my aunt, not me. My father is a military man, not a Baron. Please just call me Miss Thompson.”

“Very well Miss Thompson,” his voice conveyed his disapproval of her request.

The ship lurched as it drew up to the wharf and she watched as a grizzled sailor tossed a mess of rope over to another man who tied them down before moving down the wharf and repeating the process at the other end of the ship. She turned her gaze toward Mr. Edwards to find him vomiting over the railing. “I think your suffering will be over shortly,” even as she offered these words of comfort the captain came up and gave the sick man a jovial slap on the shoulder with an amused chuckle, “My good Mr. Edwards! The gangplank is being lowered as we speak, soon you’ll have your land legs back. Miss Thompson, I believe there is a carriage waiting for you,” he pointed down the dock where a black carriage could be seen.

With a nod and a smile she thanked their captain and went back to her berth to retrieve her satchel. The rest of her things would be unloaded by the crew, so within a few minutes her black boots were stepping off the wet and unsteady gangplank onto the firm construction of the dock. Mr. Edwards swayed as he led the way down the long wooden walkway toward the waiting carriage. As they approached, the curtain was drawn back and a round, matronly face peered sternly out at them. The door of the carriage swung open and the woman emerged from within. Looking Miss Thompson up and down and clearly finding her unacceptable, she addressed her, “I can see I have some work to do before you are presented before milady. Come let’s be off, your things will be delivered by another carriage.”

A few hours later, after a jostling trip through the city and to the Baron’s countryside estate and some considerable beauty treatments from the matronly woman that Miss Thompson had come to know as Mrs. Davies, she found herself being led nervously down a corridor toward the dining room of the spacious home. Her practical black boots had been replaced by a much more fashionable pair of lovely heeled shoes that clicked as she walked along the stone floors and pinched her toes terribly. She also found it very difficult to breath since Mrs. Davis had tied her corset so tightly that she was afraid her ribs might have been cracked. Not to mention the fact that her hair had been pulled so taut when being crafted into a pile of carefully sculpted curls on the back of her head that just smiling made her headache. Even so, as she stepped into the dining hall she plastered her most sincere smile she could muster onto her face to greet her aunt.

“Amelia, my darling! I thought you would never arrive! I’ve been counting down every minute until I would finally get to see you, isn’t that right Husband,” the long thin face of Margaret Frederich turned to her husband for his confirmation of her doting love as she said this. Amelia looked at her uncle, noting his deep set blue eyes, bushy eyebrows and thinning salt and pepper hair. His nose was hooked and he was a heavy set man, making his wife appear even thinner than she might otherwise. He nodded with disinterest at his wife’s comments and motioned to a chair for Amelia to sit in. A servant pulled the indicated chair out and the young woman settled into it, murmuring her thanks as she did. “Amelia, there is no need to thank Mr. Clark for doing his job. It is his pleasure to serve the Baron Blachford,” she flashed a superior smile as the footmen brought in the dinner.

As food was dished onto their plates her Aunt Margaret prattled on about how happy she was that Amelia’s father had finally agreed to let them take her on, that there was so much to show her and teach her, that it was time for her to come out in society. Amelia had never wished so strongly to be somewhere else, anywhere else, than she did during that first dinner. She had nearly tuned out her aunt completely until she said, “We’ve invited the Averys over for tea tomorrow, their son Chester would really be quite the perfect match for you. We’ll go shopping in the morning for an appropriate dress.”

She hadn’t even been here for a day and already her aunt was trying to marry her off. Amelia set her fork down and looked apologetically at her Aunt and Uncle, “Forgive me, but the trip has really taken quite a toll on me, I’m not feeling very well. Would you excuse me to bed early tonight?”

Margaret was taken aback, but she quickly recovered and gave her niece a sympathetic pat on the hand, “Of course my dear, go and rest. We’ll want you in your best shape tomorrow.” Amelia simply nodded and offered a strained smile in response. After she had left the hall, Margaret turned to her husband, “Clearly we rescued her from that godless land just in time, did you see her complexion Roger? It’s as if she ran about hatless all day long, I mean really, what was her father thinking?”

“Yes dear,” came her husband’s monotone reply.

“She is as lovely as my dear sister was, God rest her soul, and it falls to me mold her into a well bred young woman. So I shall, just see if I don’t. She shall be well married within the year!”

“Yes dear.”

Back in her room, Amelia found her trunks had been delivered and she began to open them one by one to locate her books. Finally finding the right trunk, she smiled as she ran her fingers across the spines of her book collection. The door opened and Mrs. Davies came in and placed a nightgown carefully on the bed, “This is for you Miss Thompson, I’m sure none of your sleep attire is well suited for the colder temperatures here in England.” A young girl, maybe sixteen or so entered behind her, carrying some coal and the tools for lighting the fireplace. “This is Rachel, she’ll be your girl. She’ll see to your room and things, if you need anything you can ask her and she’ll take care of it for you. I will see you in the morning.” Mrs. Davies didn’t even wait for Amelia to respond before she had turned on her heel and left.

“I don’t think she cares for me very much,” Amelia commented.

Rachel glanced around in surprise, as though she expected the young lady was speaking to someone else, but of course there was no one else present, so she must be talking to her. She replied hesitantly, “I’m sure I couldn’t say Miss.”

Amelia began taking her books out of the trunk and placed them lovingly on the writing table by the fireplace. Rachel stood up and dusted herself off after lighting the fire and looked curiously at the books. Amelia noticed her curiosity and asked, “Can you read?”

“Oh no Miss!” Rachel’s cheeks flamed at the idea that a girl of her social position would have the time and opportunity to learn to read. She was also embarrassed at being caught being so nosey about the lady’s things.

“It’s a pity, reading can transport us to so many places, teach us so many things, open up whole new worlds to us,” Amelia commented thoughtfully.

“What world do these open up, Miss?” Rachel asked, her curiosity now thoroughly piqued.

Amelia smiled knowingly at her and simply replied, “The supernatural world.”

Two weeks had passed, and life had fallen into a dull pattern. Dull for Amelia, anyway. Some young women would dream of being part of the lifestyle she suddenly found herself thrust into, but with every passing day she just felt more out of her element. The Averys were frequent visitors, particularly Chester Avery.

Now he sat on the couch opposite where she sat next to her Aunt Margaret. His pale complexion looked even more pasty in the afternoon sunlight of the sitting room. Margaret turned to her niece, “Amelia dear, the afternoon looks so lovely, why don’t you take a turn about the garden with Mr. Avery?”

“I think I would enjoy that,” Chester said as he stood and held a soft hand out to Amelia. She tried not to let her disdain show as she took the offered hand and the two of them wandered out of the house and into the garden outside. It was really a stunning garden. Kept immaculately by a team of eight gardeners, it contained a variety of roses and hedge sculptures, with three fountains tucked into it in various places and aqueducts running between them. There was a covered gazebo in the middle of a wishing pond that could only be reached by a footbridge across the water. It would have been a romantic spot to be courted, if not for the fact that she was not interested in being courted. Not only that, but Chester Avery was the single most unromantic suitor Amelia could imagine. He was pompous and self involved and cared very little to get to know her at all, but only to impress her with his wealth and power. He had never done a day’s work in his life, instead spent his time hunting and looking for a suitable wife. None of which interested her in the least. The way of life she found herself a part of here in England seemed empty and completely frivolous. To her Chester Avery was a perfect picture of the silliness of it all. He was not handsome or intelligent, indeed he was rather foppish and very foolish. He bored Amelia more than anything else.

They walked for some minutes in silence before they stopped in the gazebo and Amelia looked out over the wishing pond, with its floating water lilies and lotus flowers, and thought of more interesting things than her company. So when he asked her what she was thinking about, she gave an honest answer, “The lotus flowers remind me of stories of Kali told to me by Mandira as a child. Kali herself is sometimes said to be the opposite side of Parvati. It is intriguing to think all things beautiful and good have an opposite, dark and dangerous.”

He looked at her with some surprise and consternation, he knew little of Hindu gods and goddesses. It seemed rather an uncivilized topic of conversation. So he stuttered, “Th-That seems a dark avenue of thought for such a beautiful afternoon.”

Having grown weary of his company, she decided perhaps she could rid herself of this nuisance of a suitor by revealing more of her private interests, “I don’t believe it is, I think in fact it illustrates exactly what I mean. Parvati was the calm to Shiva’s destructive force. She could domesticate him, so to speak. Much like our own gardeners have domesticated these plants and shrubs. With gentle love and care, they’ve molded them into something pleasing. Ah, but unlike Parvati, Kali would encourage Shiva, driving him on in his madness to destructive ends. These bushes, left alone over time, could tear this stones apart. They could retake the land and destroy all the work done here.”

There was a moment of silence and finally she looked at him to gauge his reaction as he slowly asked, “You seem to enjoy the idea of this being destroyed, Miss Thompson?”

“Not in particular, I just think there is much in the dark places in life and thought that is ignored, when perhaps it shouldn’t be.”

“Dark places?” He seemed to be growing more confused with the direction the conversation had taken.

She nodded and went on, “It is different in India than it is here. There they speak freely of demons, spirits, gods and goddesses, curses. Perhaps by ignoring these things, we give them power to act. I think in India, they acknowledge them, bring them into the light and deny them power by doing so.”

“You take an interest in spirits then; I mean ghosts and the like?” Finally he found something he felt he could get some footing in. Gods and goddesses were foreign to him, but any good englishman knew a silly ghost story or two.

Now it was her turn to look at him in some confusion, he seemed to like the direction it was taking. The truth was not that he shared the interest but that he finally had found a way to hopefully impress her, “There is a castle I have heard about that is supposedly haunted. It is quite well known in the area. Would you like to see it?”

It was the first interesting thing Chester Avery had said to her, and she couldn’t resist the opportunity to visit the place. Soon plans were set for a day trip to Berry Pomeroy Castle. She may not be excited about the company, but at least it offered her the chance to see some of the supernatural offerings of England.
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SokothQultuq
Henchman
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Re: The Hunters: The Haunting of Berry Pomeroy Castle

#5

Post by SokothQultuq »

To be continued....
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