Dark Legacy

• Louise Rigby, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2015

The chanting comes from the walls, they come for me at night.
Snaking through the long and empty halls of the mansion.
Whispers of words that feel as old as the earth, find their way to my ears.
Filling my head with movement and sounds, not heard of for hundreds of years.
Souls laid to rest now rise to howl, with the vile voices that call with all their might.
Mother complains in the morning of my tired, lifeless face, over the freshly cooked eggs and crisp bacon. She says the dark rings under my eyes, are so deep she could pull buckets of water from them. On and on she goes about how ‘she knows’ for a fact, that I sneak out and party with friends. This always draws a snicker from my younger sister, accompanied by ‘what friends?’ then the laughing begins. I would've ended my life in this mansion by now if not for my grandma.
My mother’s brilliant idea to start anew, involved dragging me and my adolescent sister to my grandmother’s haunted mansion in the middle of nowhere. The cruel sting of fate has ended with me getting no sleep at all. Though each morning Grandma helps me out, by sliding me a cup of coffee and redirecting my mother’s conversation. I sense she knows why I’m tired but always brushes my questions off, like she knows exactly what’s going on.
One night the words drag me out of bed.
Dragging and scraping my arms and legs.
Leading me through the wooden doors and down the creaky stairs.
Out to the land that lays ahead.
Through the moonlight forest I go
Barefoot from my bed and shivering from the cold.
For an 80 year old woman, she’s quiet, youthful and nimble on her feet. No hip replacements or fractured bones for her, she’d have to be, to look after such a mansion out in the shire. This house will most certainly be the death of me with no central heating, only fireplaces in every room; not to mention the creepy voices that like to haunt 18 year old girls.
The days drag on and the only thing I can do is read through the library, avoiding my mother’s nagging. Endless halls in the mansion drawn me in to explode, but my tired body dares not move any further than the kitchen or my bedroom. With days come nights and the voices were continuous. They persisted, constantly awakening me and disturbing my dreams, until that final night came.
Past old oak trees.
Stumbling through the undergrowth.
A light was not far off.
Burning and flickering.
The bonfire rose to the height of the tallest tree.
With figures silhouetted on the forest floor.
Crystal clear, could I see the creatures in the light of the bonfire, dancing and singing as loud as their lungs would allow. They spun and twirled to their song, calling upon the magic of the night. Guiding me to my future.