The Demon of Mansfeld Manor

by S A Jacobs

  “You are going to have to wait to kill me.” he yelled wildly. “Right now, we need to get the hell out of here!”

  Within moments, we were outside the front door of the house. Oddly enough, even in the time it took to run through the house, the intense pain in my head had subsided. I looked over at David. He looked terrified. I wasn’t sure if he was scared of the house or scared of me. Honestly, I didn’t really care which it was. I grabbed David by the shirt again and threw him against the planter.

  “You thought this would all be a funny joke. Make a mess of that room so I think there’s a spirit for you to catch. After my bank account is empty, you run back home. Nice system you have running here!”

  “Jim! It’s nothing like that! I swear!”

  “Talk!” I spat at him.

  He held up his hands, waving them at me. “I don’t know what you think I did. I was just here like you, seeing this all for the first time.”

  “Why should I believe you? You know more than you say. This bullshit about your feelings and light and dark. Hell, this whole paranormal investigator crap is all a front. What do you want from me? Money?”

  “Why would I fake this? Besides, you’re the one who called me. What even makes you think I did something? You were in that room already. You were the one telling me there was something strange in there. And you are the only one with a key to that room.”

  “Strange yeah, but not like that! That was just straight-up horror movie fucked up!”

  “Alright, why don’t you tell me what you saw the first time you went in there?”

  “Uh well, it was peaceful and serene. The red paint on the wall wasn’t there. That’s for damn sure! Everything was perfectly clean. It felt bright. It even smelled like freshly cut flowers.”

  “This room is telling us something. What’s different about today from the last time you were there?”

  “Well… you, and last time I was with Kat,” I said.

  He just stared at me. And then it was as if a light bulb went off in his head. He stood up.

  “I was wrong!” he shouted.

  “Um okay, how so?” I asked.

  “Yes, Katherine needs to choose her side, but I’m afraid if she doesn’t choose our side in this, we will not prevail.”

  “Yeah, I’m not following again,” I said.

  “See, the house is showing us. It is reacting to the situation it is put in. And that room, for some reason, that is ground zero for all the energy in the house. But when you walk in with her, it responds to that. And responds well… welcomingly. Without her, it shuts down as if giving in to the darkness. She is definitely connected but far more than I ever estimated.”

  He sat down again and took a deep breath.

  “Tell me, what is her connection to this home?” he asked.

  I went through everything I knew about her. I talked about her lineage, the letter for the will kept in a safe in her home, my visit with her mom, even the whole penny in the fountain thing.

  “We are both missing something,” he said. “If she was here, maybe she could fill in the gaps, but maybe even she doesn’t know. By all logic, if she was the child of the butler, then she would be light. He protected this house and ensured its future. There is far more to this story. And for now it appears, without her, we may be stuck.”

  “So, what do we do now?” I asked.

  “Well for starters, I am staying out of that house until I understand more.”

  “Great, so you are leaving me to fight this solo?”

  “No, no, no!” He shook his head adamantly. “But we need a better interpretation before we go disrupting things even more.”

  “Yeah, well interpret this for me.” I stood up and turned to face him. “We have talked about Kat and her ‘connection.’” I made air quotes with my fingers. “But you know what we haven’t talked about? The one damn thing that’s more important than anything in all of this despite everyone not paying attention to it or trying to understand it.”

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “Me!” I yelled, staring him down. “How about my connection or lack thereof? How did I even get connected to this damn place? You talk about me as if I’m the white knight, but I have no blood in the game. The only thing I know is that I was selected to inherit this house seventy years before I was even conceived. Years before my mom or my drunk ass dad were even born. Does no one find that at all strange or worth looking into? How can I put together the puzzle of this house without even knowing who I am in relation to it?”

  I sat back down. I was exhausted. I was simply tired of being the main player in a ghost story without knowing why. I didn’t want to disturb those ghosts. Hell, I would have never even known they existed without inheriting this place. But I did care about it all. I did feel close… or so I thought. At that point, I didn’t know if this was just crossed lines in my head regarding my feelings for Kat.

  “You’re right bro,” he said. “You want my take even though it’s only a guess?”

  “Well, that would at least be someone finally talking to it for a change….so yeah, let me have it.”

  “I know a couple things that bring me to this conclusion. First, we know Sam was one hell of an evil dude. He was tied up in everything from murder to witchcraft. Serious dark art shit from what I can understand. People don’t dive that deep solo. It’s a progression, like a religion or anything else. It starts with interest and intrigue. Then it progresses. My point is, there seemed to be many happyish years of marriage prior to when this shit fell apart. There is really no way I can believe that Ida was not on some level exposed to this. Perhaps they even shared an interest. Anyway, it is completely plausible that she dove into some of this world too. At that time period, especially for women, involvement in witchcraft was almost exclusively focused on speaking to those who have passed on and trying to predict the future. You know your typical crystal ball and seance shit.”

  “So you’re saying Ida grabbed a crystal ball, and it told her about me?” I asked.

  “Not exactly. But also, kinda yeah. I mean the strange thing is, historically speaking, things like that have been less than reliable when it comes to details. A typical medium rarely gets the whole story. They may see images, places, and times. They can feel the emotions of people. Sometimes they get a name. Sometimes they get a date range. But for a medium of any sort, as I understand, it would be almost unheard of to get a specific name and date for someone to be born, especially someone with no direct lineage. Clearly, there was no prediction of just some random person. So, the connection is what we are missing. Why you? Did your great-great-grandfather have an affair with one of them? Who knows? It doesn’t even have to be like that. For all, we know you are the descendant of the kid selling newspapers she walked by every day, and she decided to help him out far in the future. Either way, there must be something.”

  “So, how do we figure out my connection?” I asked.

  “Man, that is the tough part. I mean, sure, we could spend the next month putting together a super-comprehensive map of your lineage and look for areas it could have crossed. But real info will only take us so far. Even the most documented families can only give enough information for the basics. I feel this one is more obscure than that, even if we had all the facts.”

  “So, you’re telling me I’m shit out of luck?” I asked.

  “No! I’m telling you that understanding this is going to require research of another kind.” He looked at me with a curious expression. “I believe you were found by a medium back then. I think it’s time we use one to help us understand why.”

  I hung my head. “Seriously, why can’t just one thing be a simple answer?” I asked, not expecting a response.

  “Well, if it helps, I really think we can get somewhere with the right help. I mean, you’re not walking in the dark. You are already dreaming. That is a big plus. You’re dreaming, I’m feeling, and we have a ton of historical data. Linda will be able to connect a lot of thes
e dots I hope.”

  “If you say so…. So, what do we do now?”.

  “For now, you go home. I’ll go home and meet with Linda. For the most part, let’s continue what we were doing. But in the meantime, I do think it would be best if you could get in contact with Katherine, even if it is by putting feelings aside. She is tied in here somehow, and I fear we need her.”

  He stood up and walked over to the entrance of the house and put his hand on the pillar. Then he looked back at me.

  “Actually, I have one other thing for you to do,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Not today, emotions are too high for anything to be accurate, but at some point, I would be very curious what that parlor would look like if you walked in there alone. If you have a chance, go in, look. But be careful and do not stay. Just look. And be sure to do it with a clear mind. That room seems to respond to you.”

  Part II

  Requiem

  12

  September 7, 1927 – Villa Ortenberg

  The large clock in the entryway had just struck for the twelfth time. The echoes of the sound reverberated throughout the corridors of the empty and silent mansion. It had been a week since Madam Mansfeld had indefinitely left the estate. Edgar was used to her absence from the Villa, but this time was different. Prior to that week, the staff would be hurrying around, making meals and ensuring everything was perfect in the off-chance she would happen to arrive without notice. That was protocol. If she arrived at the Villa at 5:50 PM, she would be seated in the dining room at 6:00 PM expecting her formal dinner. There were of course other occasions, when the Villa would become the playhouse for Samuel and his partners in her absence. Fortunately, these had become a rarity in recent years.

  Now, however, Edgar had given the staff a reprieve. He knew there was no reason to make dinner as Ida would not be arriving. Likewise, following the divorce, Samuel was never to set foot on the property again. That was one point Edgar was pleased with. He could never stand the man.

  One would expect that in the absence of the Madam the staff would have the run of the home. Edgar would never tolerate such indulgences. His priority was the estate and ensuring it was exactly as the Madam would have expected.

  On that day, the house was silent. Edgar walked slowly up the staircase, carrying a vase of freshly cut flowers in his hand. As he approached the end of the hall, he reached into his pocket to retrieve a key. He unlocked the door and entered her parlor, shutting and locking the door behind him. This was the first time he’d entered the room since the Madam’s departure. He walked across the room to the fireplace. He picked up the vase of now wilted flowers from the mantel and replaced it with the vase he carried. He walked over to the chaise in the center of the room. He unbuttoned his coat and sat down. He sat there for a few minutes, silent and motionless, his hands resting in his lap.

  He then reached into his pocket and withdrew the envelope Ida had given him. He ran his fingers across the unbroken crimson wax seal and lifted the envelope to his nose. He inhaled, closing his eyes. He could smell the unmistakable scent of her perfume still lingering within the fibers of the paper. He opened his eyes and looked at the envelope. He retrieved a small pen-knife from his pocket and cut open the envelope. Inside was a letter.

  Dearest Edgar,

  I apologize for my delivering this letter to you under the pretense of it containing my instructions to you. You may remain in my employ, but you are far from my servant. I know that your priorities remain with the Villa as they have all these years. For that, I want to ensure that you will be well compensated. However, I do not forget the past. I know better than anyone the sacrifices you have made. I know this house has robbed you of the future you dreamt of.

  I am sincerely sorry for that, and you must understand it is a fact which pains me as much as it does you. I have spent the last number of years trying to rectify the pain of the past in hopes that it may brighten the future. I humbly realize now that such things are not within my control.

  There is another matter I wish to discuss with you in hopes that it will bring you some peace moving forward. Please do not think that in my absence I have been blind to the events that have transpired at the Villa. I know that Lucinda is with child. I also know that the father of that child is Samuel. Edgar, I fear for that child’s future. You know that Samuel is evil. The only thing worse than simply being born of his evil blood would be to grow up knowing the evil that created her.

  If you see fit, please take the child and raise her as your own. Let her never know the truth about the evil she will undoubtedly carry in her veins. Please think of her as your future. Raise her to value the love and compassion I know you have. You were once robbed of the opportunity to raise a child. The world was robbed of having that child grow up within it. This is your opportunity to overcome that past along with stamping out the evil that Samuel has done.

  Your duties to this house will soon come to a close. The coffers used to maintain this house will run dry. I have arranged for a substantial amount of money to be bequeathed to you that you may live on independent of this Villa. Please trust me, dearest Edgar, peace will come. The sun will shine upon the Villa once more. It will not be in either of our lifetimes, but it will come.

  I will always love you my dearest Edgar,

  Ida

  Edgar slowly folded the letter and placed it back into the envelope. He then placed the envelope back into his jacket pocket. He clasped his hands together and sunk his head down, resting his chin in his hands. He let out a long sigh and sat there. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

  13

  A couple weeks went by. Work on the foundation of the house had begun. A crew had come in with excavators and all sorts of machinery. They dug out a trench on all sides of the house where they were going in to reinforce and rebuild portions. I stayed out of their way. Actually, the only time I went to the estate was on the first day when the crew arrived. They had cleared a bit of the entrance brush and set some rock on the drive to make it possible to bring their trucks in. I arrived to give some personal instruction about the project to the foreman. For me, the most important thing was to disturb as little as possible in this process. Considering it was the first step, it would be easy, at least in my mind, to damage another part of the estate making the restoration more difficult. I had also asked that the crew keep their eyes open for anything out of the ordinary, be it an uncovered artifact outside or anything else.

  The foreman updated me at the close of every workday. I was thankful that so far there was nothing in the updates other than work as usual. All things considered, this project was moving along with ease.

  David’s work on figuring out this puzzle was proceeding far slower than I had hoped. His trusted medium was out of town. He continued to dive into every ounce of historical information he could get his hands on. While that was interesting, it didn’t really yield anything that helped either of us. Even if he had found anything tangible, he was hellbent on waiting for Linda before sharing it. The next morning, we were scheduled to finally meet with Linda. I was actually driving down to Tennessee to meet her. At first, I thought it would be more logical to meet at the house. However, I didn’t really fight David on the suggestion to meet in Tennessee. I thought it would be good to remove myself completely from everything for a couple days.

  Besides the construction crew and David, I had a very quiet couple weeks. It was a nice break to not spend every waking hour focused on the house. Still missing though, was Kat. I had texted a couple times. I had even worked up the courage to call. With no answer, my courage ran out before I could leave a voicemail. For me, Kat consumed most of my thoughts for those weeks. I wanted more than anything to just drive to her house or her work, and just show up. I felt that face to face, she would be more willing to at least say something. Although, that was probably the exact reason I didn’t. It was easier to just think about her and wallow in my loneliness than it was to see her and hear that maybe ther
e wasn’t any hope.

  I was finishing my packing when I heard my phone ringing. I looked at the clock, realizing it was far too early for the foreman to be calling with an update. As I picked up my phone, I saw it was her.

  “Kat? Are you okay?”

  “Jim… um look, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Kat, don’t worry, whatever it is, it doesn’t matter,” I said.

  There was silence. All I could hear was a deep sigh. I wanted to reach through the phone and hug her more than anything.

  “Listen, I need your help.” Her voice was cold and direct.

  “What do you need?” I replied matching her tone. “Just tell me.”

  “It’s my mom. She wants to talk to you. That’s all.”

  “Of course. What’s wrong? Is she feeling worse?”

  “No, it’s just… Jim, I tried to talk to her. I wanted to ask her about the house, to find out…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Find out what? What is going on?”

  Then, I realized I was talking to no one. She had hung up. She was gone as fast as she came.

  “Fuck!” I yelled.

  I couldn’t think. So I didn’t think. I grabbed my duffel bag, packed, zipped it up, and ran out the door, throwing it in my truck. A normal person would have probably called back. A smart person would probably just relax and wait for her to call back, whenever that might be. Clearly, I was neither of those. I spun the tires of my truck and hit the road, driving straight to her mom’s house.

  I spent a few minutes driving as fast as I could. My heart was beating out of my chest. Finally, I composed myself enough to call her back.

  “Jim?” she answered.

  “Look, I don’t care what’s going on! I will help you!”

  “Jim, I’m scared.” I could hear in her voice that she was crying. “I didn’t want to call you. I swore I wouldn’t, but my mom. She demanded it.”