The House of Despair

A thousand souls seemed to have lived their lives in Mills Manor; those same thousand souls may have never left. To this very day, folks keep out of the premises of the old abandoned house. They say there lives a very old man, alone with his memories and spirits of his departed family. They have sighted him wandering the extensive gardens, walking calmly among the rose bushes that had become wild, growing as they pleased, where they pleased. When in spring, the whole town would be taken by their scent.

The Mills had been a quite wealthy family for many generations. They had picked nothing but the very best for the construction of their home. The house itself looked like a cathedral, with stained glasses, tall, narrow windows and heavy oak doors. The walls and columns were made of the most luxurious marble, now covered by ivy and dust; the floors of sentient woods brought from Brazil by Portuguese merchants in their carracks; thousands of corals and pearls had been necessary to build the immense and presently web-covered chandeliers which have illuminated a dozens and dozens of balls, banquets and gatherings of all sorts. Sculptures were all over the place, be it the garden or the many rooms, embedded in the walls and depicted all sorts of maritime mythical creatures.

Although cluttered with objects, books and memories, the house was empty, void of life…that is, until one October day of 1972.

Robin Locksley was back to America, this time with his son. His job had been demanding, which meant he was always travelling. Before his wife died, he was kind of free to do so. He'd come and go as he needed, but with a child things weren't quite as simple. A child needs roots, so he quit his job and did almost anything that would pay the bills. Being a bit of an outdoorsy man and nature lover made him quite keen on outdoors activities.

An old man took him as an apprentice in his carpentry. He learned everything about the art of carving, sawing, nailing, assembling, varnishing, polishing, smoothing and engraving. But the old man retired, and to continue on his work there was only Robin.

He now had a growing business. He had built himself a small cabin. It was nice, quiet and was not too far from the huge haunting manor crowning the town that he could see from his small, wooden porch.

People came all the way up the hill to request his services. Cabinets, tables and other kinds of furniture were made by his hands. His work was always skilful and of great quality. He took pleasure in what he did, provided he had the best materials. In his spare time, he would carve animals and other toys in scraps of wood for his boy to play.

Robin and little Roland were happy and led a simple and tranquil life, until one day, when Mills Manor came to life.

The carpenter and wood-scented man had been hiking with his son on a beautiful Sunday autumnal afternoon. The sun was low in the sky and the tree's leaves were rustling softly at the soft breeze. Roland liked to step inside the small puddles of water along his way. Robin was glad he had picked is rain boots for the walk. All of a sudden, the scent of roses invaded the air. Robin picked the strange scent and looked around. They seemed to be close to the old mansion people told him about. He had listened to their spooky tales about the strange happenings and apparitions. Robin was sceptical and was almost fed up. Roland was actually fascinated.

"Smells good, papa!"

"Indeed!"

"Maybe there's a garden!" said the boy. "Let's check it out." And before Robin could stop him, the child took off running.

"No, Roland! Do not enter that gate."

But Roland did and as he ran, Robin tried not to lose sight of him.

Roland was always ready for an adventure. Ever the curious child, he liked to go around the place, discovering little creatures and nooks he could later use to play hide and seek; however, he wasn't allowed to go any further and was carefully watched by his dotting father.

Robin ran and ran after his child only to find him looking at a huge rosebush in full bloom. White and light pink roses crowned the plant and the wondrous perfume that had hypnotised them into entering the old manor's grounds was even stronger there.

"Look how pretty they are, papa!"

"They are very beautiful, Roland; but we shouldn't be here. People who live here may not like our presence."

"It's quite alright." Said a voice behind them. Robin turned and saw an old man smiling at them. There was something otherworldly and anachronic about him that Robin couldn't quite figure out. Maybe it was the way he was dressed. The clothes looked awfully old fashioned for a man living the seventies. He looked like some version of Count Dracula, only he didn't have a cape. He was walking in a black silk long-tailed coat, buttoned to his chest, he had a vest underneath it and a scarf carefully pinned with a brooch around his neck. He was wearing trousers of the same material as his coat and carefully shinned riding boots. His eyes were dark, his nose round, and his mouth thin, displaying a kind smile. There was a strange sadness and nostalgia look on him. He had lost something very dear to his heart that could not be returned to him and Robin knew that look to well. He could see it every morning when looking into the mirror above his bathroom's sink.

"I apologise for the intrusion, sir. My son is quite the curious lad. I'm awfully sorry if we caused any inconvenience." Robin said, adopting a very polite tone.

"Not at all, good man. I was rather pleased to find people here. It's been so long since we had visits around. Normally they just vandalise what they can and take off."

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

"Oh, nothing that can't be dealt with! Anyway, I saw your boy was admiring my roses and I couldn't help but come outside and welcome you both."

"That's very kind of you. I'm Robin Locksley. I live nearby."

"We are neighbours, then! How wonderful! It's truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Locksley. I'm Henry Mills." And they shook hands. Robin recognised the man's surname from the stories told down the pub. He had been told the only inhabitant of the house was always be watching by the window for intruders. In his head, Robin had drawn him to be an old grump, chasing kids with his can. He had never been so wrong about someone. Henry Mills was a very elegant man, he did not yell or chase anyone around. "So, little one, what's your name?"

"Roland."

"That's a very nice name, Roland. Do you like my roses?"

"Yes, they're pretty!" the boy excitedly said.

"You know, they are my daughter's favourites."

"What's her name?"

"My daughter's? Regina." Robin was surprised by the sweetness in the old man's voice when he spoke his daughter's name. Maybe the daughter was the origin of Mr Mills' sadness, Robin thought. Had Regina gone somewhere far away? Or worse? "My daughter and I, we planted these on her birthday. She was always very fond of them."

"Roland could you go and play a bit so I can speak to Mr Mills for a bit?"

"Yes, papa!"

That said and Roland ran away, barely able to wait a second more to explore the extensive garden. The two men were left alone.

"Walk with me, sir." Henry Mills asked. Robin complied, glad he would somehow take a better look at his surroundings. No doubt it was a beautiful garden. There were jasmine and rosebushes almost everywhere; big magnolia trees, tall oaks and cedars. Oh, how fairy tale-like all seemed! He almost swore he could see little creatures running around. Sometime after the beginning of the walk, he felt as if being watched. He could feel a few pairs of eyes on him. He looked in the way of the manors windows and saw only the curtains of the surely magnificent rooms, waving. But why would they wave if there was no sign of the windows being unlocked? Henry Mills decided to interrupt his thoughts.

"I'm sure they fed you a lot of tales about this place back in the town. I must confess, some of them might be true."

"Oh?"

"Ask away, Mr Locksley. I feel you are about to burst with questions."

"I don't mean to pry, sir; but I was wondering, is your daughter unwell?"

"I might have given away too much with my sorrowful tone. I lost my daughter a long time ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"But my loss was somehow different. Different than yours, at least. I sense loss in you both as well. It was your wife, wasn't it?"

"How do you know?"

"A respectable family always takes a walk together on Sundays. I'm aware of the more modern ways, but still I think the best way to spend all of our blessed days is with our family. As a young man I was told that any man who loves his family will put his business on a side to devote this one day to the ones he loves most. A day out of seven… Too little time to enjoy something so precious and so ephemeral if you ask me. I know so because I lost them all. One day you have them, the other you don't. All happened so swiftly, I'm not even sure if I even had them in the first place."

"I understand." Robin whispered.

"I know you do, sir. That's why I came to you. Because you understand. And because you'll understand if I ask your help."

"My help?"

"We should go inside and have a drink, you'll need to sit down for this."

And so they entered the manor, after having called Roland. The child wondered around the entrance hall, taking the house's interior beauty. He looked at the pictures on the walls and the objects displayed in armoires. Robin couldn't help but walk slowly when passing by the objects, suit of armours and paintings.

Henry Mills stopped by a door and invited them in. Robin and Roland entered and were astounded by the utter magnificence of the room. The carpenter had never seen such splendour. He was marvelled at the sight of the columns sculpted from the rich sentient woods. Such quality, such grandeur! How opulent and magic all was!

For a moment, Robin's eyes saw a small boy running from one side to another through the mirror on his right side. He look towards the door and around, seeing no sign of a boy anywhere.

"Please, sit down. A drink?" Mills offered.

"No, thank you." Robin declined as he sat down near the fireplace, on a luxurious couch. The master of the house, however, remained standing.

"I guess I should start from the beginning."

"I'm listening."

"Once, a long time ago, my wife – Cora is her given name – and I had a beautiful, innocent child; a girl, our Regina." Henry Mills declared pointing to the portrait above him. There was a young woman with very dark hair, olive complexion, whiskey eyes and blood-red lips, dressed in the finest white silks and carrying a magnificent bunch of white and pale pink roses that brought up the rosiness of her cheekbones. Robin was overwhelmed with such tranquil beauty. He was very much attracted by the stunning creature depicted in the painting. She looked very much like a queen. He could make out the nobility, the poise, the determination common in most royal portraits he had seen in museums and such places he had visited, a long time ago. The sense of anachronism was even more present in the portrait. The dress was not from the twentieth century. How could this be the daughter of the man standing right in front of him? "We brought her up in the finest manners and values. She could be the wife of a king, no one would notice her origins. My wife made sure of that. Cora was a very ambitious woman, marrying our daughter to a king was her life goal. You see, my wife was born in a poor family. I was just the handsome prince passing by. She would do anything to be sure her daughter would not suffer the same deprivations she had in her early years. I understood her reasons, I didn't agree with her methods. She was very cold, very strict with our little girl. A single mistake and Regina would be severely punished. I was afraid for my daughter, but I couldn't do anything. I would freeze most of the times, not knowing what to do. I loved my wife and I loved my daughter. We lacked nothing and yet my wife found the need to want more and more and more… When I noticed she was whoring my daughter to every single and available bachelor in town" Henry Mills said, his voice faltering with emotion. "Regina felt crushed and with good reason. I was always there for her. I gave her the comfort I could. I would try to make it better, but, at some point, Regina just gave up believing me; believing things would be better in the future. I was so angry at Cora, but she had my heart. I was utterly divided. I was weak."

"I wouldn't say you were weak." Robin countered.

"I'm afraid you would, good man. If only you knew… the pain, the sorrow that covered this house… it was like the mud that one tries to wash and wash again but it just won't come off."

"So what happened?"

"As all girls tend to do, my Regina fell helplessly and completely in love. And how Regina loved! Oh, you should see her then… How her smile lit the house, how happy she was. Because, when Regina loved someone, she loved that person with her whole soul. It's pure and unselfish. She was like a star…"

"And like a star, she lived surrounded by darkness."

"Indeed. The target of her affections was not suitable to a lady of her rank, according to her mother" the old man said, tears gathering in his dark eyes. "The lack of her mother's approval took a great toll on Regina, even though they continued to meet in secret."

"And you weren't against the relationship?"

"No; I knew the boy was a modest, serious and hardworking fellow. He was kind and gentle, qualities which certainly sparked a flame in my daughter's heart. I never tried to persuade her to proceed with caution, nor did I advise prudence. I trusted the boy, I greatly esteemed him and his family; respectable people, the Colters. But above all, I liked the way he acted around my daughter. Their relationship was all about respect and companionship, something I never had with my wife and desired to Regina. Because I know what it is like to not have it."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It was common back then. I loved Cora, only Cora didn't love me. I was the ladder to a better life and in return she gave me a family. I was grateful, happy even. But I understood that the life I led just wasn't what was best for my daughter. Regina wasn't meant to lead a luxurious life. She liked nothing more than tend to our horses and work in the garden with me. She didn't getting her hands dirty. They had plenty in common and I wanted my little girl to be happy. Daniel Colter was his name." Henry Mills told Robin as a strange wind swept through the room and made the fire burning in the fireplace flicker. "To this day I swear I don't know what happened or how it happened. Regina left the house early to go and tend to her horse like usual. She found him in the stables, cold, not breathing. She turned him around and there was blood everywhere."

"He was killed?"

"I can still hear her scream echo through the property."

"I'm awfully sorry, Mr Mills."

"When we managed to finally rip her from Daniel Colter's lifeless body, we brought her home. From that moment on, she simply gave up. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't sleep. Her eyes had lost the spark of life. Her skin became pale; she looked like a ghost. Pure devastation is not enough to describe my daughter's suffering that day and the others that followed. Cora never left her side. She tried to feed her, go get a reaction from her, a sign that she would be alright, that this was all just a bad time. That everything would go back to normal. Only it didn't." Henry Mills said, big soft tears flowing down his cheeks.

"How did she die?" Robin dared to ask.

"Cora found her; her wrists were slashed opened. She sheets were soaking red with blood. My daughter, my Regina, was gone in the most gruesome way."

"How terrible…" Robin murmured, lowering his head in reverence.

"My wife, usually poised and composed was screaming in horror. Oh, I can still see her. She picked our daughter up and laid her across her lap and sat there lulling her as if she were a baby again. I was heartbroken. But it wasn't the end. It was far from it, actually. After we buried Regina, Cora's mental state worsened. She would wake up screaming, scared out of her wits, terrified of something. She never disclosed what exactly it was. At some point, she wanted all mirrors covered."

"The mirrors, sir?"

"And the sheer fear that inhabited her eyes when she found one uncovered. But what terrified her most was the night, bedtime; the moment she saw the sun setting she'd begin panicking. 'Please, Henry, don't make me go to sleep', she'd beg. Whatever was tormenting her, it was doing it during her sleep. I heard her beg for her life, beg for a moment of peace, a moment to rest. She'd calm down the moment the sun would rise in the sky."

"For how much time did this went on?"

"Oh, weeks! I called a physician, he gave her several tranquilizers so she could sleep and recover her health. At this point she was not much more than skin and bones. Any sudden movement or noise would put her on the verge of tears. Fearing I'd lose her too, I decided to send her away. I bought her a nice cabin by the sea, with a small garden. She lived there with her maid. For a few days, Cora slept and ate, she seemed to feel better when I visited but it was not quite so."

"All that time, she never spoke to you about it? Nothing at all?"

"About a year after, we were sitting in the garden of her cottage by the apple tree and she finally gathered the courage to tell me. She said, 'Regina is not in peace; she cursed us' and that was the end of it. No details, no other remarks."

"Did she get better?"

"No, she just got worse, until her heart couldn't handle it anymore. Regina had been dead for a year. It was not long until I followed them too."

"I don't follow."

"There was nothing more for me in this world, only I didn't get to choose how to leave it. Every day I found it hard to breathe. I was getting weaker and weaker every day. I was far from being the strapping young lad that I once had been. And that's why I need your help. We're stuck here, her curse keeps us here. We can't move on."

"Papa, there's a boy here, can I go and play with him?" Roland asked emerging from behind the couch where his father had been sitting.

"Stay here, Roland." Robin asked firmly, turning towards Henry Mills.

But the old man wasn't there anymore.

Robin took Roland by the hand and walked away not even looking back. Yet, the little boy, clinging to his father's shoulders got to perceive the silhouette of a young woman with flowing dark hair looking out one of the windows in the house.