Craven Manor(5)

Four old, collapsing chairs were arranged around a fireplace built into the wall on the right, though it was clear the grate hadn’t been heated in a long time. The wood in the bracket beside it was dry, waiting to be lit, but had gathered a heavy layer of dust, just like everything else in the space.

Leaves and dirt had blown in through the front door and broken windows. They scattered across the foyer floor and built up in the corners like snowdrifts.

This is bad. Get out. He stood on the threshold, one hand raised as though to rest it against the open door, but he was still reluctant to touch any part of the house. No one lives here. No one has for a very long time. Don’t linger.

But something caught Daniel’s eye before he could turn away. An envelope rested amongst the leaves and dirt a few paces away, seemingly placed with great care so as to be visible from the front door. It was identical to the envelope Daniel had received at the apartment, down to the elegantly scrawled “Daniel” across its front.





Chapter Three





Turn away. There’s something wrong with this place. Get out now, while you still can.

Daniel took a hesitant step into the building, his attention fixed on the envelope bearing his name. Its crisp white stood out clearly against the browns and blacks surrounding it.

Whatever’s happening here isn’t right. Don’t be a fool. Turn around.

Leaves crunched under his heel. Daniel licked at dry lips. His heart throbbed from stress, but he couldn’t ignore the envelope. It waited, deceptively innocent, five paces inside the building. Stepping closer to it made him feel as if he were falling into a deep, black abyss. The light had already been poor, and each pace from the door let the darkness swallow him further.

He reached for the paper. Unlike the floor, the furniture, and the massive chandelier above his head, the envelope wasn’t coated in any dust. It, at least, was recent.

Daniel picked it up. The envelope was heavier than the note in his apartment. He sent a final, wary look at the door, half afraid it might slam closed and lock him in the manor, then lifted the unsealed flap to look inside.

The envelope held a letter and two flat, circular objects. Daniel took out the note first. It consisted of two sheets. Like the one inviting him to Craven Manor, the first message was brief and written in a small cursive hand.



Mr. Kane,

Your duties involve keeping the crypt cleaned and maintained and repairing the garden to the best of your abilities. If you require supplies, place a note with your requests on the foyer mantelpiece. The groundskeeper’s house in the back corner of the garden is available to you, should you wish to stay there. You will be paid weekly, provided your work is sufficient.

-Bran



Paid weekly… The two round shapes clinked against each other at the base of the envelope. Daniel tipped them into his palm. They were coins, but unlike any currency Daniel had seen before. They were the size of a prune and heavy. A family crest had been minted into their front. He thought they might be gold. This is my payment?

The second sheet of paper flopped loose behind the first, and Daniel shuffled it around so that he could read it.



Rules:

No strangers are allowed onto the property.

Do not enter the tower.

Do not leave the groundskeeper’s cottage between midnight and dawn. Draw your curtains.

Keep the door locked. If you hear knocking, do not answer it.



“Okay.” The word came out as something close to a whisper. Daniel very carefully folded the sheets and tucked them back into the envelope. “Yeah, no, not a chance.”

He was desperate, not insane. The abandoned house, the letters, and the ominous rules all boiled into a whole mess of ain’t-touching-that. He’d been reckless to follow the overgrown path to what he now suspected were the property’s front gates. It had been even more irresponsible to enter an abandoned building just because he’d seen a note with his name on it. Taking the groundskeeper’s position was basically asking to be put on a missing-persons list.

A scraping noise echoed through the building. It seemed to come from one of the upper floors and reverberated in a way that made Daniel shy back. He waited for something to appear at the top of the stairs, but the shadowed, cobweb-shrouded upper halls remained empty.

An animal, maybe? Those crows could probably fit through the broken windows. He was close to certain that he was alone, but his nerves were frayed, and he didn’t want to stay long enough to be proven wrong.

He still held the coins in his left hand. They would put some food in his stomach that night, and maybe the next few nights, too. But he wasn’t a thief, and he didn’t want trouble. He dropped the coins back into the envelope and placed it where he’d found it, on top of the leaf-strewn marble floor. Then he backed up to the open front door, continually scanning the open foyer and upper halls until he’d passed through the exit.

One huge crow remained in the tree near the house’s front entry. It looked old; its feathers had taken on a dusty-grey tint, and when it shuffled, its movements were slow. But it watched Daniel like a predator watching its prey as he jogged down the wide, curved front steps.

Daniel moved into the tangled garden as the last hints of day morphed into night. He’d become disoriented and couldn’t remember the way to the gate. Flagstones poked out of the earth intermittently, but they seemed to lead in different directions. He chose a path, prayed he’d picked correctly, and pressed between two thorny bushes in search of an escape.