Lost Chances:
The Inheritence
Kayla Menager
Eng 9
It was the year 1760 A.D. in the Roivas estate, a small mansion in the state of Rhode Island. Dr. Maximillian Roivas had just sat down in his father's old study and took out a tattered red journal.
13 of August 1760
I was just informed late last night of my father's death and that my inheritance was to be just this house and the servants who live here, but I sense there is more. As I get along in years, I plan to make this house mine and continue the family tradition, passing it on as I, too, pass. But until then, I will live here as my forefathers have. I am sure that my sweep of this house did not cover it's entirety, and that there are things still it is keeping hidden from me. I plan to make these secrets mine.
"Sir? The sky is turning to dusk. Did you still want your noon tea?"
He put his quill back into it's ink well and let the page dry for a moment. The air in the small room was musty and somehow unnerving, as if spirits of the past lingered and awaited...warning, shouting, crying, screaming--"Yes. Tea would be very nice."
"Of course, Sir. By the way, have you heard the news as of late? It seems that there was a blood bath the other day, with an lunatic imprisoned for killing his working dogs."
"Working dogs?"
"Yes, sir. Both his own dogs and his father's prized hunting dogs."
"Finsh informing me when you have a fresh cup for me in your hand."
The butler bowed his head as he left the room, closing the door after him. Something about his new employer's eyes disarmed him, and filled him with a wondering doubt. As he walked down the stairs after making his way through the hall, he contemplated bringing it up to the others but shrugged it off as ridiculous for him to even have followed a train of such thought that far. He walked into the kitchen and headed for the steaming kettle, but Rebecca was already pouring the water into the master's tea cup. He stood there for only a second when she asked of him in a shaking voice, "Did you see it too?"
"See what?"
"That look. That glint in his eyes!"
William was struck dumbfounded by her sudden outburst. She slammed the kettle down on the table and looked him in the face, but eyes astray from their assumed target. "In his eyes! That look, that feel!" She paused to sit and calm herself. "There was something...something very wrong......it was like looking into the eyes of the old master...it was there, I saw it..." Her eyes watered and William felt obligated to sit beside her while she continued. "It's going to happen again! He's crazy, too! It was there! It's never going away! He's going to kill Katherine again!" Rebecca broke out into tears and two other maids rushed in to comfort her, hearing the mention of Katherine from just outside the door. William stood and put the tea cup on a saucer. One of the other maids thanked him silently, and he nodded in return. He walked back up the stairs, the cup jittering in place in time with his shaking hand. With the dropping of lead into his stomach as the cue, the rest of William's body joined in the chorus of shivering with terror as he turned the door knob to the study unlike so many times before. That same door slammed shortly after.
"What, so your telling me that he didn't pull that pistol on William? That we never heard that gunshot? That ol' Will is still around, and could come bounding into this very room at any minute?!"
"Paul, please try to calm down. This is exactly the behavior that ended lives before."
Paul sat back down, suddenly with his fear in his eyes. He continued in a much quieter tone. "So we can't find the body. But it has to have happened."
It was nearly three in the morning, and the four servants all sat ever so silently in their meeting room, which also served as the library, conveniently placed beside the kitchen. They hadn't had a meeting since before the last master expired, and only were brought to such concern after hearing that chilling cry and the pistol go off. All remained in silence, which was broken by the approaching patter of a worker's rushed shoes.
"Jacob!" Mary whispered a shout, and went to meet him at the door. He held a piece of wrinkled parchment in his hand. The others took notice, and stood with ears and eyes perked.
"I found this in the study, torn out from Dr. Roivas' journal."
Matthew grabbed it towards himself. "It's covered with dry blood..." He looked at Jacob. "Like it was pulled out at the last second."
Paul took it. "It looks like a hand print."
"Well what does it say?!" Rebecca questioned. Paul walked over to a table and laid it out for all eyes to see.
13 August 1760
It was just as I thought! Just as I thought!! Indeed!! Yes, indeed they were! Plotting! Against me!!! Just as they had my father! PLOTTING AGAINST US!! Against us all!! But no...I mustn't let them, now should I? Could I? No. No! Not ever!! This is MY ONLY CHANCE!! It MUST END HERE! The secrets!! THE SECRETS MUST NOT BE CONTAINED!! IT ENDS TONIGHT!! I WILL END THE DEMONS' LIVES!! I WILL END IT FOR NOW AND FOREVER!
Although they had each long ago finished reading the page, their eyes forced down onto it by the heavy tension above them, minds being drawn through the words in disbelief and unwillingness to accept. It was Matthew who broke the still by leaping up in realization. "Rebecca. Peter." The others' heads jerked up from the page as well. "Joshua! Olivia!!" For a moment, all of their mouths and eyes were wide with terror. Mary sat down, holding a hand to her mouth. "No. No." Paul's expression ceased to change. "How.....how could they have slept through it....."
Maximillian strode into his servants quarters. He had just reloaded one of his duel pistols, and the gunpowder covered his shirt. Without delay, he turned and fired two shots into the nearest beds. Peter and Rebecca, he thought, but such creatures had no such identity. The other two had awoken, one too frightened to scream. It was that same one that also pulled a rapier out from under the bed as it's screaming friend was painted the wall a deep shade of red. Maximillian stopped for a moment to reload, and looked his prey in the eyes. Daring it to move. Daring it to fight. It only took that intense stare to convince Joshua into loosening his grip on the weapon and only that split second for his employer to cry out and blast his head into chunks.
"No! No! It's my fault!" Mary stood, powered by her self-loathing. "I was the one who had asked if she would sleep! If it would make her feel any better! SHE HAD GONE RIGHT TO SLEEP! NOO! I could've woken Josh, or Olivia! I could've stopped Peter from going to bed with her! IT WAS MY FAULT! I COULD'VE STOPPED THEM!!" Her hysteria came to a close with a gasp, as heavy footsteps and a creaking was heard directly overhead. They heard two gunshots, and screaming. One more shot, and a war cry to accompany the final. Mary gave up all attempts to be quiet. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" She hollered, until her voice cracked and choked her into reducing her mourn to only a harsh sob. The others stood rigid with horror as they heard the swift but off-beat footsteps travel the stairs and halls, approaching the library's door. Paul and Jacob already had their hands poised over their own pistols, while Matthew fingered a butcher's knife he stole from the kitchen's cupboard. The footsteps continued to grow louder, but stopped just as the remaining servants held their breath for the door to open. The sound of bullets and powder being pounded clumsily into the metal barrels got them to get into position, for defense or for death.
Three pistols were cocked and ready to fire when a hole appeared in the door and Matthew feel to his knees, holding his bleeding arm. Jacob drew his attention to this, more so then the door. Paul was prepared to shoot, undistracted by Matthew's agony. He held the nozzle to where he imagined he would hit Dr. Roivas in the chest, but he couldn't pull the trigger of his conscious' accord. So he just stood there, poised to kill as he himself was shot down from a bullet flying through the wood and landing in his windpipe. Mary fainted as that trigger was pulled and Jacob nearly joined her while Maximillian reloaded again, but managed to not only cock his own gun but pick up Paul's and steady his hands enough to avoid any accidental shots.
Maximillian opened the door and fired both rounds at Jacob's head, hitting only one sufficient time. The latest corpse fell into a heap of itself, firing off one of the pistols it held. The bullet went straight through the leather of Maximillian's shoes as the lunatic approached Matthew, who could no longer feel his less dominant hand as he lay there in a pool of blood. The doctor fell from his own wound, landing beside him with a cry. Matthew strained to steady his blurring vision to see that he had a clear shot at the master's neck. He still held his knife, and could probably muster up the strength to put an end to this terror. But as he brought the blade across the floor and into the air, it was not his body that ordered him drop it painfully into his own lap. Maximillian rose after hearing Matthew's response to his self-inflicted pain and held himself up on one elbow to reload just one pistol. Through the grimacing Matthew could see his own demise being prepared. The murderer held the gun to Matthew's nose and fired.
14 August 1760
It is done. At last, the demons are gone. But they will return. And if not them, then others......yes....others. More. More of them!! OH GOD!! NOT!! MORE!!! But I'll be ready. Oh yes! Indeed I shall be oh so VERY PREPARED!! YES!! They return! More of the vile creatures!! At my door this VERY!! MOMENT!! They think they have me.......but it is I!! Who have THEM!!!!