Mysteerie Manor

by Sharon Hays

  “Oh…yes…oh, Officer, I think I fell asleep for a moment. It happened to me when I was inside the Valencia, too. I don’t know what has been coming over me.” She hit the lock. He opened the door and climbed into the car.

  “The only things you need to do right now are rest and get your mind off this house, Miss O’Donnell. I have some bad news. The doors are all locked up. Are you sure you didn’t lock them? I tried everything to get in, but no luck. We’re gonna have to get a locksmith, or possibly Miss Bishop has another key.”

  A rush of fear crept through her as she realized that someone had really been inside the manor. “I’m positive I didn’t lock either door, Detective. I ran out of there tonight, not even closing the door. If I had, I would have my purse with the key in it. Let me call Joan…Oh, my cell phone is gone, too. Everything was in my purse. Damn! I’m batting zero tonight! Will you call her, Officer Ramos?”

  “Sure. I have her number right here.” He called as they sped off to Joan’s house for the extra keys. Maryanne was quiet on the way, wondering who could be inside the house and why. When they arrived at Joan’s, Detective Ramos walked her inside.

  “I’m gonna leave you here with Miss Bishop, so you can warm up, get dry and comfortable. I’m sure she’ll get you a cup of coffee or tea. You just relax, and I’ll be back in a few.” Maryanne was shivering and wet, which was very obvious to Joan, as she entered the house.

  “Come on in, Maryanne. Go take a hot shower. You look like a drowned rat, if you’ll pardon the expression. That should warm you up.” She went to the kitchen, and Maryanne headed to the bathroom.

  “Towels and everything you need are in the cupboards, in the hall, right there, next to the door, you know the drill. Take your time.” Joan called from the living room. “I’m making hot-chocolate. It’ll be just perfect when you’re done with the shower.”

  Steam rose up and filled the tiny bathroom while Maryanne stood under the water, as it warmed her shivering, exhausted body. She loved the warmth of the soft water falling against her, and she started to feel secure and relaxed, until reality finally took back its hold. She pushed open the shower curtain and draped a soft white towel around her body. She wiped away steam from the mirror and stared at her reflection. In a half-conscious moment, she didn’t recognize herself. An unfamiliar face stole across her own and then vanished. Fear again, took hold, and she backed away from the mirror and wiped her face, holding the towel against it for several seconds. She then, rubbed the towel over the mirror to get a Second- look.

  “ It’s probably just my imagination playing tricks again,” she mumbled.

  “Hey, you okay in there? I heard you talking. Need something?” Joan knocked on the door.

  “I’m just about done. I’ll be out in a few. Thanks, Joan.” She took the robe, wrapped it across her body, pulled sash tight around her waist, and went to the kitchen. Joan sat at the bar with two cups of hot chocolate. In no time at all, she was relaxing again, and momentarily free of thoughts of her unfortunate experience at the Valencia.

  As Officer Ramos pulled away from the curb, hail mixed with rain began pounding his car, making it difficult to see. Deafening sounds made it impossible to hear radio messages coming in.

  “I can’t hear you, the hail is ferocious. I’ll call you back in a few minutes. Hold on!” When he reached the Valencia Manor, he pulled over and dialed the station.

  He heard the broken voice of Tratnik, “Hello, hello, Ramos, you there? Can you hear me? It’s Officer Tratnik, here.”

  “Yeah. Just barely though. What’s up? I’m at the Valencia. I had to pick up the keys. Just about to go in.”

  “I hadn’t heard from you, but figured the storm was interfering with the radio transmission. Keep in touch and keep your cell available. Call if you need assistance. We’ll come runnin’. This hail is really something else!”

  “I know. So far, everything is good, though. I’ll call if I need you.” Click. Opening the door of his car, he slipped the cell into its usual pouch on his belt, and stuck the keys into his shirt pocket. He darted toward the house, pushed the gate aside, and ran up the stairs to the front door of the Manor. The huge portal gave refuge from the storm, as he took the key and unlocked the massive door. He felt it give way, and pushed until it opened just enough to go inside. His flashlight, already beaming, sent sprays of light inside the room as he cautiously found his way in. Scanning the room, he noticed the dark wood staircase lined with bold, carved wooden cherub posts, winding upward to the second floor. He pointed his light toward the large, stone fireplace admiring its beauty, but wishing it was lit and warm. It was cooling off quickly. Another staircase on the other side of the room curled up to the landing, as well. His wet clothes stuck to him, and he shivered as he walked across the room.

  “Guess I had better find that purse,” he muttered and pointed the light at the wall, scanning

  a picture of whom he imagined to be the Senior Mr. Farthington. “Spooky looking guy. Hate to meet him in a dark alley,” he mumbled to himself again.

  A loud thump from upstairs startled him. “Damn! Who’s the hell’s up there? Come out. This is the police! I have a gun. Who is it? I’m coming up stairs,” he bravely spoke as he stood at the bottom landing of the staircase looking up, moving the flashlight slowly back and forth, eager to find the intruder. A bang resounded with another clatter from upstairs. “Who’s there? I’m comin’ up-stairs, and I have a gun. Please, make yourself known.” Heart pounding, he started up the staircase, unsnapping his holster in the ready position and placed his hand over the trusty thirty-eight caliber Smith & Wesson. An eerie moan emanated from somewhere at the top of the stairs. Chills ran down his spine as he again called out,

  “Come out! “Police! You are trespassing. Don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be.” Pleading with the intruder, he made it to the top landing, and to the doorway of the first room. Another low sounding moan echoed through the dark house, and then something crashed to the floor behind him. He heard a muffled gurgling and then felt a painful wallop on the back of his head. A shot rang out and he hit the floor, slightly stunned. As he lay there, trying to make out the dark figure standing over him, the intruder uttered a low-pitched laugh. He realized the gun was not in his hand and tried to get up, but the shadowy figure loomed over him, still laughing with a low, blood-curdling resonance.

  Detective Ramos lay motionless, waiting for the right moment to make his move. He was still stunned from the blow on the back of his head. Time stood still… Heart pounding, he slowly moved his hand toward his cell-phone. A quick motion from the stranger knocked the phone away from his hand. He felt a hot breath brush across his face as he sprawled out on the floor, helpless to escape from this dark visitor. His mind tried to rationalize, and then he became frantic and afraid. He had never experienced anything like this, and was not aware of what he was up against. Two cold hands grabbed his ankles and pulled him down the hall as he fought to free himself. He was dazed from the blow to his head, and not completely aware of what was happening. Laughing in a cold-blooded burble, the ominous figure dragged him through the hall to the entrance of another room. He seemed to have no power against his adversary…

  Clammy hands pulled him up into a sitting position and pushed him hard, against the wall. Night protected this evil, illusive monster. Ramos could see only shadows of a repulsive, rancid smelling stranger, shrouded in darkness. He could feel cold, clammy hands of this unimaginable monster. It began wrapping him with rope, and then he felt himself being pulled away. It bound around him tighter and tighter, pulling him along by his feet. Repulsive breath nauseated him as he lay helpless and paralyzed with fear. Again, there was the insidious, bloodcurdling laughter. The unidentifiable creature stood in front of him, inches away; its putrid breath, the laughter, and the horror permeated his psyche. Blood red eyes glared into his through the darkness, looking right through him, he thought… He felt the rope tightening around his feet, arms, and then around
his chest. He was being yanked up like a rag doll. He felt himself falling, screaming as he fell, and then he stopped in mid-air with a loud snap! His body, wrapped with rope, hung, swaying back and forth in the darkness.

  5

  Maryanne climbed onto the barstool and cupped both hands around the mug, savoring the delicious hot chocolate topped with marshmallow. She read her book, trying to divert her mind from worrying about the detective, since he had left for the Valencia on his quest to retrieve her purse. The experience at the manor had convinced her that something was wrong in that house, and she worried about him, even though he was a well-trained professional.

  However, an hour later she checked the time, seriously concerned about Detective Ramos and called the station to see if they had heard anything.

  “Hello, Boulder Dispatch, can I help you?”

  “Yes, this is Maryanne O’Donnell. I would like to speak with Sheriff Olson.” Sheriff Olson was the Boulder County Sheriff, who she was familiar with from meetings at city hall.

  “One moment.” The moment felt like an hour while she hung on, waiting for news of the detective.

  “Hello, Miss O’Donnell. This is Sheriff Olson. Can I do something for you this evening? I was about to leave. Good thing you called when you did.”

  “I’m worried about Detective Ramos. He hasn’t called and should have been at my place quite a while ago. You were aware he went back to the Manor to find my purse, weren’t you?”

  “He did leave a message and said he would get back to us when he was done. I talked to him briefly, but due to the weather, the phone went out, but he did say he would call me soon. Let me see, that was about an hour and fifteen minutes ago. We’ll try to reach him, Miss O’Donnell. I am sure all is fine, or he would have called by now, since the storm subsided.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff Olson. Please let me know soon as you hear anything. She gave him her number. “You are very welcome, Miss O’Donnell.”

  Maryanne hung up the phone and began pacing the floor nervously. “Joan, I’m worried. Maybe we should go over there and check it out.”

  Hesitating, Joan thought for a moment. “I guess we could do that, but do you really think it’s a good idea? There’s been too much weirdness going on over there. We should wait for the police to check it out first.”

  “You’re right, Joan, but I have a bad feeling something isn’t right. There is a very ominous presence about that house. It’s as if it draws me to it, yet I am still wary of what is there. Can you understand what I’m trying to say?”

  Joan eyed her skeptically. “Nonsense. Come into the living room, sit down, and relax awhile.” Joan led the way into the living room where a soft, mint-green, leather chair and sofa faced the brick fireplace as it burned softly, filling the room with a relaxing ambiance.

  Maryanne ran her hand across the back of the sofa, walked around to the front of the chair, and melted into its inviting softness. Joan handed her a furry throw, and she draped it in front of her. Within minutes, Maryanne was dozing. Joan rolled back into the love seat, took the other blanket, and wrapped herself up. They were both exhausted.

  6

  Loud hammering on the front door startled the sleeping duo. Maryanne woke up, threw off the blanket, and jumped to her feet. She got her bearings and called out, “Who’s there?” Three more bangs on the front door and Joan called from the other side. “I’m coming.”

  “Officer Pantella. Boulder Police Department. Mrs. Bishop? I know it’s late, but…” Joan opened the door, where a police officer stood, looking very disturbed. “Are you Miss O’Donnell?” Maryanne joined her. “I’m Maryanne O’Donnell. Have your heard any news?” Both women stood waiting, eyes fixed on the officer.

  “We have a serious problem at the Farthington place; Officer Ramos has been injured quite badly. They are investigating as we speak; have been for several hours.

  Dispatch told me to let you know he is on his way to the hospital emergency. Have to go, but stay away from the Valencia for now. We’ll keep you informed.” He started to walk away. Maryanne was overcome and agitated. “What happened? Is he going to be all right?” Maryanne questioned, doing her best to keep her composure.

  “All I know right now is that he was seriously hurt. Don’t know the details, but when I can release the information, I’ll call you. Can’t tell you anymore than that. Keep the doors locked and stay inside, please ladies. It’s not safe out there. If anyone comes around, do not open the door, and call 911.” The officer ran down the stairs to his squad car, sped off in the direction of the manor, red lights flashing against the trees as he disappeared into the night.

  Both women stood silent in the doorway until the car was out of sight…Joan locked the door securely, after pulling Maryanne back away from the entry where she stood, seemingly immobile. Joan went through the rest of the house, making sure latches were secure on all doors and windows.

  “This is unreal!” Maryanne crouched back on the love seat and curled into the blanket. “I’m not sleeping until I get a call on Detective Ramos’s condition! This can’t be happening.” She then took the blanket, wrapped it around her, walked to the window, and looked out onto the street. “I feel so helpless, as if there is something I should do to help, but I have no idea what that would be right now. If I hadn’t left my purse there, this would have never happened! It’s my fault for being so damn careless.

  “There is no way anyone could have known what was going to happen, and you shouldn’t blame yourself,” Joan retorted.

  “I know that, but the fact remains; I left my purse in that house—” Another loud ring echoed through the house, and they both jumped up. Joan quickly picked up the phone.

  “Hello. This is Joan Bishop speaking.”

  “This is Officer Tratnik. I would like to speak to Maryanne O’Donnell, if she’s still awake.”

  “Yes, one moment, please. Maryanne, its OfficerTratnik. He wants to speak to you.”

  Maryanne took the phone hoping for positive news. “Hello, this is Maryanne O’Donnell.”

  “We have a few more details and would like to ask you some questions. If it’s not too late, I would like to come over now. May I?”

  “Yes, I’d be glad to answer any questions. I’ll be here. I’ll expect you shortly.” Maryanne waited nervously at the front window as a squad car pulled into the driveway. After a few minutes a tall, burley officer with blonde hair hammered loudly against the door. Maryanne greeted him. “I’m Maryanne O’Donnell, come in and sit down. This is Joan Bishop.”

  “Pleased to meet you both.” He took off his hat as he walked inside. “I’ll fill you in as best I can.” He hesitated. “Looks like Officer Ramos must have had a bizarre experience before we found him. He was hanging upside down from the top of the overhang by the staircase. It leaves no chance for accident. An old rope was wound around his body, and he was probably thrown over the balcony. He was hanging from a concrete sculpture like a rag doll. It’s probably what saved him from a worse fate. Fortunately, he is still alive, but in very serious condition. He has not regained consciousness at this time, so we don’t know what really happened or how bad it is. Tests are being done to determine his condition. I hope he will be all right. We’re all worried and praying for him.”

  Maryanne sat in the recliner, horrified with what she had just heard. She felt so much guilt for leaving her purse at the Manor.

  “I’d like to ask you a few questions, Miss O’Donnell, if I may.”

  “Of Course, I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “When you were in the house, did you see or hear anything specifically, Miss O’Donnell?”

  “I heard noises inside the house, can’t say for sure what it was, but yes, it scared me, and I ran out of there.” She took some deep breaths and continued. “It was raining torrents, and it was so loud, I couldn’t hear myself think. I kept telling myself it was the rain, but I felt someone was there, and that’s why I ran out, leaving my purse. I was frightened.”
>
  “Are you all right to continue, Miss O’Donnell?”

  “Yes. I’ll be fine. Go on Detective.” She drew in another deep breath.

  The officer continued to question her and inform her about the current status of the investigation. “They found some small items obviously belonging to a woman, but did not find a purse. Sheriff Olson asked me to relay the message. They are testing for prints on items they did find, so if anything belongs to you, it will be returned subsequently. It could be awhile. They found a lipstick, compact, some coupons, and other miscellaneous things. There was no sign of a wallet or any credit cards, though. The keys have not been recovered as well.”

  “The door was unlocked when I entered, and obviously I didn’t lock it. I ran out of the house to my car. Didn’t realize I had left the purse until later. I entered and left the Valencia from the back door. However, the other day when I was there, I pushed on the front door, and it was open, but I left and didn’t go in. I peeked in, pulled it shut, and left. The doors should have still been open after I left.”

  “Where were the keys? Did you have them when you got there?”

  “Yes, they were in my purse, but I didn’t have to use them, as I said before. The door was open. Does any of this help at all?”

  “Yes, I’m sure any information you have will be of help, Miss O’Donnell. For now, that’s all I need. We’ll get back to you soon. Oh, one more thing I forgot to mention. The lights in the upstairs attic room were on when we drove up, but when we went up there, there was no light bulb in the fixture. There were no candles or even a smell of candle burning. Very strange. Were there any lights on when you were there?”

  “No, it was pitch black inside and out. My flashlight went out, and I couldn’t see anything except when lightning flashed.”

  “Thanks for your cooperation. Keep the doors locked up tight, ladies. I hope you have a safe evening. Do not go anywhere. Stay inside where it’s safe. We’ll check on you periodically.” He opened the door smiling, replaced his dark blue baseball cap, and tipped his head, holding two fingers to the brim. Joan watched him until he was out of sight and took her place back, on the sofa.