October 21, Friday | Ermengarde Mansion | Afternoon
I'm not sure whether I should feel baffled or underdressed, standing in their presence.
Men and women of wealth and status, all dressed to the nines in fancy suits and lovely dresses of varying colors, compose the medium-sized crowd.
Their necks, arms, and fingers are adorned with silver and gold, glinting in the afternoon sun. Some even have ridiculously fancy feathered hats on their heads!
I really hope there aren't any magpies living nearby like in the stories. Those birds will have a field day in this!
They are murmuring among themselves, looking at the estate's facade appraisingly, with some arguing about whose mansion has the superior architecture.
They don't look too pleased at being ordered around, but what can they do about it?
Ladies and gentlemen, I'm Rose Cooper and this is my partner, Isabella Santos.
We'll be taking a tour of the mansion in two groups. Please make sure you've filled up our sign-in forms before joining a specific group.
Those who want to look around the first floor, please follow my partner. I will be guiding the ones who wish to see the ground floor.
Hearing this, a few wander towards me. They are mostly old ladies who seem daunted at the idea of climbing all those stairs.
~~~~~Miss McCollough also joins our group. But what really catches my eye is the elegantly-dressed pair she approaches.
???~It's so nice to finally meet you! When Chief Inspector Lee mentioned that a famous interior designer is in town, I knew I had to get you.
~~~~~Your... confidence in my skills is very flattering, ma'am.
???I'm sure you won't disappoint, Marianne.
'???~' Oh. You know each other?
~~~~~Not at all, Ma'am.
???You mentioned something about a 'Marianne' on our way here, darling.
???~Oh... yes. I think I did.
Ah. They must be the clients she was talking about.
I might have seen their faces somewhere before... some magazine? Or the television? I can't quite remember.
But then again, most of our guests have likely ended up on the news, one way or another! I won't be surprised if these two have, too!
For people who are popular, though, they aren't dressed as... loudly as the others, and in their simplicity, the couple stands out.
The woman, in particular, is stunning enough to turn the heads of most people in my group, especially the men with wandering eyes.
The guy standing beside her doesn't seem to mind, though.
And if I'm going to be a bit bolder with my assumptions, I'll say he's basking in the attention.
Both of them, in fact! Peas in a pod.
I'll think they are brother and sister if it isn't for their public display of affection!
The matching rings on their fingers just cement the fact that they are, indeed, a couple.
Whatever.
Couple or not, what's important is we get this deal closed, before the current owners can even think of cancelling the listing agreement.
I just hope one of the people in my or Rose's group is brave and generous enough to buy this mansion.
And so, with papers in hand, I lead the way.
October 21, Friday | Mansion Foyer | Afternoon
From how the restoration process went to the history of the place, I answer them all; more than happy to talk about the art pieces and architecture, mostly.
However, I am careful not to mention anything about the urban legend.
Not a good material for sales talk, even if the entire population of Luxbourne knows about it.
Some of the furnishings here are actually the 17th-century originals. All of which have undergone a painstaking restoration process, just to return its original beauty.
Especially that one, ma'am! It is said to be a gift commissioned by the fiancé of Lady Charlotte Ermengarde.
The mansion's current owners have specifically requested that the restoration crew take great care in handling it.
It's a priceless work of art and the most distinctive feature of the mansion.
By the time I've stopped talking, her attention is already elsewhere.
-----
/
It is splendid, Ma'am.
But isn't it a little too early to make plans when no deal has been signed yet?
-----Never mind that. It isn't going to be a problem! We've got a wonderful legal team to handle everything.
-----Start taking notes, though. I think I've got a few things I want changed before we move in.
The rest of their conversation gets lost in the chatter of our other companions.
I don't want to make any assumptions yet, but their sheer interest is enough to give me some semblance of hope.
Oh, please, please, please let these guys be the one!
Eventually, our group reaches the kitchen.
October 21, Friday | Mansion Kitchen | Afternoon
Much like the rest of the house, a great deal of effort has been put into retaining the room's classical appeal.
The open hearth at the end of the room, in particular, looks amazing; like the ones I only see in fairytale books before!
And mad props to the cleaning crew!
Seriously. After overhearing hundreds of their complaints about the soot and tar staining the bricks, and how much of a ‘pain in the arse' cleaning this'll be, they still managed to pull this off.
Or make it look presentable, at least!
The highlight of the room, however, is what's underneath this hatch here…
/ Oh, don't say anything, yet! An underground wine cellar?
This is the first time the guy in gray speaks up. Mister "Luke Wright", my memory supplies from the forms they signed earlier.
His sudden attentiveness catches me off-guard. Since the start of the tour, only his wife has shown any form of genuine interest in the place.
But this time, something lights up in his eyes at the mention of the undercroft.
What's so interesting about a basement? I really don't understand rich people sometimes.
Right now, he just gives me the impression of a child who has just seen what he absolutely wants for Christmas.
I've always found it cute whenever I see children act that way—my younger siblings, especially.
On a grown man?
It's almost funny!
Yes, sir! It could house around seven thousand to eleven thousand bottles of wine!
/truly? And the room? How was it built?
The bricks that were used to build the cellar have been carefully picked for the purpose of maintaining and preserving a constant temperature and humidity in the room.
It's a good place to keep your private collection in, if you have one, sir!
/It keeps the corks in good condition.
/You know we're going to need space for that, darling.
And this isn't big enough?!
If it's space you're worried about, sir, the Ermengarde Mansion sits on a forty-six acre lot. There's plenty of room for it.
We were told that the original owners had a horse stable built here before, too.
There's a contemplative expression on Mister Wright's face, but he doesn't say anything further. His wife, however, seems really pleased that he has started to show interest, if only a little.
I smile to myself.
I may not completely understand how these people's minds work, but I sure as hell know how to spot a buyer with sincere interest.
Score!
I can't wait to tell Rose!
The rest of the tour goes by without a hitch.
Funny. The first time we surveyed the property, I kept complaining to Rose how big it is.
Now, I can't even bring myself to care, no matter how much my feet hurt.
Maybe this is just my excitement over a prospective sale?
October 21, Friday | Mansion Parlour | Afternoon
It starts off as small goosebumps on my skin; a feeling of being watched intently.
Whispers in my ear and shadows dancing, lurking in the corner of my vision.
Dark silhouettes that are gone when I turn to look to see what it is.
A chill that settles down my spine, making me feel sick, and I start to break into a cold sweat.
I... I can't do this.
I need to sit down for a moment. The old ladies in the group have been requesting for a break, anyway.
If I can just—
Excuse me? Everyone? We—We will be taking a fifteen-minute rest here before we visit the first floor.
In the meantime, please help yourselves to the refreshments and snacks we've prepared.
If anyone has any questions, feel free to approach me. I'd be happy to help you!
I let them sit while I retreat to a quiet corner to recover.
It's not what you think.
Don't think about it.
It's not what you think.
I've probably just caught Becca's cold. Don't think about it.
I'm left alone for a good while, the same words spilling out of my lips in a silent prayer...
…Until a hand taps my shoulder.
Y-Yes, ma'am?
-----Oh, look at you! Having to show a group around a mansion this big must be exhausting.
Not a problem, ma'am. I'm just doing my job.
-----What a hard worker! Anyway, Isabelle, right?
Isabella, actually. But yes, what can I help you with, Ma'am Wright?
-----Please. Just Hannah. Call me, Hannah!
-----I just wanted to ask: How soon are we able to move in?
My brain completely stops. The sick feeling plaguing me is suddenly gone, replaced by utter bewilderment.
Is she being serious?
She looks at me expectantly as I struggle to come up with an answer.
But we haven't even negotiated a price yet, ma'am. We haven't even finished touring the rest of the mansion.
A sale would be great and all, but—
She stops me from speaking any further, putting a hand on my shoulder.
For a moment, with her tight smile, she looks as if she has tasted a particularly sour lemon.
-----Oh, please, sweetie, don't insult me. Money is not a problem.
-----And, just between you and me, this place is better off with us than with some old lady, who'll probably just fill it up with cats.
I... personally don't think there's anything wrong with having cats here, Ma'am Hannah. I'm sure there's more than enough space here if you want pets.
Perhaps I'm still not feeling well. But, really, what's wrong with cats?
More importantly, why is she talking about moving in already?
-----Well, I'm more of a dog person.
-----But, you see, this is going to be a gift to my darling. It's going to be our anniversary soon.
-----And it would be so wonderful if you can secure its purchase for us.
-----Why, I can even offer something extra if you help us out with the paperwork.
I—We actually have a process for this, ma'am.
I don't really think that would be… necessary.
Or appropriate.
???And, just what are you two lovely ladies talking about here? Leaving me and our lovely interior designer to talk here by ourselves?
/What would the people think, darling?
-----Oh, it's just small talk, 'luv. I was asking if she could help me with, uh… paperwork!
I struggle not to wince when her nails dig into my shoulder.
I can't help but send an imploring look at Miss McCollough, who only gives me an apologetic smile and a shrug.
I can't help but send an imploring look at Miss McCollough, who only looks away with a sigh.
She wastes no time in taking the papers from my hand and shuffles through the bunch.
Oh, man. Rose is going to be so angry at me for letting her do that!
-----Wonderful.
-----And Mary Anne, I'd really love to talk to you about those changes. You took some notes earlier, yes?
~~~~~I did, ma'am. But I really hope that this time—
-----Excellent! Hopefully you can help us out too, Isabelle!
Isabella.
-----Right, right. It's a lovely name, Isabelle.
Yes, that's great. We'll be more than happy to put in a good word to your superiors, too, and…
-----What's this?
-----That's... ah, an interesting work of art. Not to my taste, though. I'm sorry.
/Darling… Buttercup, 'art' is a complete overstatement for this garbage. It looks like a cheap prop from a D-list horror film.
-----Shush, ‘luv. Let the girl do what she pleases with, ah, what do they call this?
-----Oh, forget about it. At the very least, it's not as… dreadful as that one art exhibit I was forced to attend last month.
-----You should've seen it, Mary Anne. Even you would've been appalled.
-----But I'm sure you'll know what to do with our walls once we get started!
~~~~~~I highly doubt it is as bad as you say, ma'am.
~~~~~Nevertheless, you can be assured that my team will only pick whatever suits your tastes.
~~~~~Nothing of this… chain letter sort, of course. It has to always work with a palette.
/I'm quite sure 'chain letters' these days don't come in this… form.
It's my turn to be puzzled.
What do they mean? Rose and I double-checked everything earlier!
Are… Are the papers I handed not enough?
I want to ask what I did wrong. I don't want to mess this up!
But with the way Ma'am Hannah's leading the conversation, I'm afraid that's exactly what will happen if I do interrupt her.
-----See, darling? Isn't she an absolute delight to work with? I can't wait to see how this place will look once she's done with it!
/You don't have to tell me that, Buttercup.
-----I would still put it away if I were you, though. Otherwise, people might get the wrong impression.
-----Anyway, as I was saying…
I don't hear the rest of what she says after that.
I can only stare down at the paper, at the letter, in my hands.
The sides crinkle in my grip and my breathing grows labored.
Dread quickly fills my mind.
???Isabella? Isabella? Are you alright?
???You're looking pale.
I want nothing more than to say that, no, I'm not alright.
I want to leave this place.
Because I remember everything as clear as day.
This letter and that woman in the attic.
This letter and those blood-soaked limbs in the attic.
It's real.
The letter, I—I'm sorry, I didn't know—!
Careless. I've been so careless!`
How do I even tell them that without looking like I've gone mad?
Should I even tell them?
CHOICE 1!
I blurt it out before I can think twice about what I'm going to say.
Rose, we need to get out of here! This place is cursed!
Rose casts a nervous glance at the people near us.
Most are still engaged in a conversation with their peers. But those curious enough to turn their heads in the direction of our little group, have been given her trademark saleswoman smile.
A tight expression is on her face when she pulls me aside.
Isabella, we've already had a conversation about this weeks ago! Those are just stories!
And I'm telling you that it's not! I saw something in there. It's not… it's not human at all!
I thought it was just nothing, but isn't this letter proof enough—
She gently reaches out to pluck the paper off my hand.
Without even taking a glance at it, she folds it back neatly.
Look: I'm really getting worried about you. I know you want to see this open house through, but your condition is more important.
Give me a few minutes to wrap things up here, and I'll drive you to the nearest hospital.
No! No! You don't understand! There isn't a condition, Rose! No concussion at all! I'm fine!
But this place isn't! And you're being stubborn about it!
/Now, now, ladies. What seems to be the problem here?
Nothing, sir! I just had to clarify a few things with my colleague.
/Well, it certainly seems… intense. A smile fits the two of you better, in my opinion.
/Especially darling Little Lily here.
He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze, an inscrutable smile spreading on his mouth at the same time.
It's Isabella, sir.
/Of course, of course. But my point still stands. And with two beautiful ladies here, I'm sure—
The pressure on my shoulder lifts as soon as those words leave his wife's lips, while the scowl on her face is like a splash of cold water on me.
It is also impossible to miss the displeased frown on Miss McCollough's face.
The realization that we might lose this sale, because of my outburst, dawns on me.
Rose will be beyond pissed!
I—I think I need to step out for a while. I'll be back.
CHOICE 2
I—Rose, I—
The words are stuck in my throat.
I want to tell her. I really do.
But is she going to believe me?
She already dismissed me earlier.
It's a concussion, she said.
It's not!
There really is something in this house, in that attic, in that letter. It's going to go after us.
Please... believe me.
-----Dear me. Is Isabelle alright?
Ma'am Hannah's voice breaks through the haze beginning to cloud my mind.
Rose is looking down on me, worry etched on her features.
I don't even notice when she has removed the wrinkled paper from my hands and pushed me down to sit on a nearby chair.
From the edge of my vision, I can also make out Miss McCollough asking a passing food server for a glass of water.
Mister Wright stands in the sidelines. Although curious, he appears more inclined to watch the scene than help.
They are all as likely to believe me as Rose does.
To everyone, whatever's in this house is just a hoax—a cautionary tale for children.
Isabella, do you need me to call that ambulance?
She offers me a drink but I push it away.
I need to get out of here before I cause an even bigger commotion; clear my head, take a breath of fresh air—
Anything to take my mind off things.
No one is going to believe me anyway.
No. I—I'm just feeling a bit out of it.
Excuse me, I'll be back. I just... need to catch my breath.
CONTINUE
Bowing my head, I mutter a quick apology and gather my stuff to make quick exit.
It doesn't matter if this place is haunted or not. I've caused trouble and Rose can be quite unforgiving of behavior like this.
I'm almost at the door of the parlor when she catches up to me.
Isabella, wait!
The apprehension must have been quite obvious on my face, because her expression instantly shifts to something gentler—eyes softer, a fond smile spreading on her lips.
Hey, I'm not angry.
I know. I'm sorry I ruined this for you.
Come on. You didn't ruin anything. It's not like we haven't ran into any problems before.
If we don't get a deal today, we can always try on a different day.
And... look...
She hesitates, completely trailing off, before shifting her gaze down to her hands. A small gesture to stall.
Her fingers are fiddling with a piece of folded paper.
It's that stupid letter again.
My hands stiffen when she gives it back, but I take it, nevertheless. More as an automatic response than any desire to have it back.
I'll throw it away if I can.
But I have this nagging feeling that, one way or another, it'll find its way back to me regardless of what I do about it.
Rose, this is—you have to let them know about—
I know you want us to get this sale so badly. And we've made a lot of plans on how to go about this.
I mean, who wouldn't? This is the first time I've been assigned to a property like this.
I've sold plenty of houses before, but nothing like what we have here! It's a beautiful house. I'd love to get one of my own if I ever win the lottery!
But I think— Look. Here's the thing, Isabella: if we are going to do this, work on something, I don't know… this big, I need you in top shape. And the way you are now...
My mind stops.
What? Wait. No! I can still work! I just need to get myself together…
That's what you said earlier. I let it go because I thought, 'Hey, it's your own body and you should know more than anyone how you feel!'
But after this, I really think you should take a break.
You're... you're kicking me out?!
No, I'm not!
Look, all I'm asking is for you to take a seat somewhere I can see you, and let me handle this for now.
You're clearly not yourself. And I honestly could use some time not worrying when you'll fall over or not.
The day's not even over and I'm already feeling the stress!
Please? Humor me just this once?
She clasps her hand together in front of her, eyes pleading for understanding.
And I do understand!
...To some extent.
That doesn't mean I'll feel any less awful!
Whether at myself, at the unlucky turn the situation has taken, or for her, I don't really know.
Fine. Okay. I'll step aside for now.
You're upset.
A little, yeah, obviously!
If it's any consolation, I won't tell the boss about today? You know how he is.
Please don't. I don't want a repeat of the lecture I got during my first assignment!
He called me a "noob", and I don't even know what that means!
At the memory, she dissolves into helpless giggles, which I also join in; earning us strange looks from the guests milling about the door.
Talking and laughing like this, it's easy to forget any mishaps that happened.
Little things you learn to appreciate, I guess?
So, are we good?
I'm still not okay with it, but...
Rose has a point.
It's better for me to step out of this one for now.
I won't be able to help you anyways if I keep getting distracted like this. Maybe I'll just take a walk outside or something, while I wait for you to wrap things up.
Please. Just stay put. I insist.
I'm not an invalid, Rose!
You clearly have not seen how you looked earlier.
It's not that bad.
Color hasn't even returned to your cheeks, yet! Just stay here, alright? Don't even think of going anywhere.
Let me finish what I'm doing here, and then I'll take you back to Luxbourne, myself, to have that "minor bump" checked.
Or at least wait for me to call someone who'll fetch you, m'kay?
