Sherwood Manor, 2016
"Only twenty-five years old…what a shame." Emma mumbled to herself, tracing the engraved letters with her finger. Henry had made himself comfortable by leaning against the tree, still eating away at the apple in his hand.
"What'd you say, mom?" He was only half listening, much more interested in counting the number of apples on the various branches.
"It was nothing, never mind." They sat there for a while, resting, welcoming the reprieve from all things supernatural. It was short-lived, however, as the eerie chimes of a music box filled the air. At first, Emma thought she was hearing things, but then the music got louder.
"Do you hear that?" Emma asked, nudging Henry with her elbow.
"No…" He sat up, listening intently for whatever his mother was on about.
"You're telling me you don't hear that creepy, horror movie trailer music?" That did it- he was suddenly aware of a bone-chilling, yet pleasing melody.
"Where is it coming from?" Both of them had moved from their resting place, making their way back towards the house, entering through the ornately detailed French doors.
"Upstairs." A cold feeling of dread set in, would they re-encounter the woman in the crystal ball? The bride? Someone else?
They traced the origin of the music to the master bedroom, where the object in question was spinning on its own, the dancing figurines twirling in time to the song.
"That's weird." Emma retrieved the trinket and gripped the hand crank, and as she did so the melody ended. The manor was now deathly quiet, save for the two living occupants.
"I guess we should look around while we're here." Henry proposed, already foraging for clues in the massive suite.
The overall ambiance of the main bedroom was light and romantic, clearly designed for Lord Gracey and his fiancée Regina. The octagonal room boasted cream brocade walls offset by purple and gold curtains, which complimented the Arenberg parquet floor. A cream chaise lounge sat by the window, draped in a purple throw blanket. On the opposite side of the room sat the king sized bed and matching nightstand, which were characteristic of the Victorian time period. Another purple quilt was positioned across the bed, upon which laid the item that attracted the attention of the teenage sleuth.
"Take a look at this." Henry had passed his mother what appeared to be an old letter, written in fine calligraphy. Emma put down the book she was examining, beginning to read the mysterious piece of handwriting.
April 15, 1885
I can't take it anymore- this accursed house is driving me mad. During the day, doors open and close of their own accord, and even the damn floorboards creak. At night, I'm haunted by their howling, screaming, and crying, which I suppose I brought on myself. I realize that now. After all these years, I can finally say I regret what I've done. Mostly. I shouldn't have murdered Robin's young fiancée, that's where it all went wrong. He would still be alive if I hadn't acted on impulse. Marian, however, deserved it- what he saw in that irritating little trollop is beyond even my psychic abilities.
Memento Mori, they whisper, the spirits and apparitions that brought me here to begin with. They want me, want my soul trapped in this house, forever their mistress. The sensible thing would be to leave, but they trapped me here. So today's the day. Today, they finally get what they desired. They win. A fitting punishment for a sociopathic serial killer, I suppose.
Madam Zelena Leota
There was blood smeared on the bottom of the page, Emma noted, evidence of this woman's suicide.
"Well, now we know who killed Regina. That crazy crystal ball lady." Emma made the connection between the ghost they saw earlier and the information in the letter.
"That's what I was thinking too. But who is Marian and why did she kill both her and Regina?" Emma sat on the edge of the bed, they were going to be here a while.
"Good question Henry, good question."
Sherwood Manor, 1880
"Master Gracey, I heard screaming, what…" Zelena's words died in her throat upon seeing Robin cradle his deceased fiancée. Remembering that she still had the murder weapon on her person, she put down the candle she was holding and discretely removed the knife from her apron. Planning on stashing it in the floorboard, she didn't account for the squeak the panels would make, and this caused Gracey to look in her direction, away from his love's face. "You did this." He whispered, observing the bloodstained piece of silverware in her hand.
"Me? I would never do such a thing!" Curious as to what tipped him off, she followed his gaze to the knife.
"Oh, this? I was preparing steak for dinner earlier, and when you called I didn't have the time to put it away properly." She could sense Robin wasn't swayed, and her heartbeat accelerated.
"I was under the impression that Chef Lucas was preparing pork for tonight's reception." He knew she was lying, and something inside her snapped.
"I had to! It was supposed to be me! She ruined everything!" Zelena exclaimed, throwing the knife in a fit of rage, the object finding purchase in the rear wall.
"I'm sorry?" Had she really killed Regina out of jealousy?
"I knew, from the moment we met, we were destined to be together." She began pacing the room, having picked up the candle, and started gesturing with it.
"But your heart was already married to another." She paused, grinning at the horrified look on Robin's face.
"Oh, did you think Marian's passing was an accident?" As she spoke, facing him, the candlelight enhanced the wicked gleam in her eyes.
"I let you have a mourning period, as is proper. And then, I began my advances towards you, my love, when it was appropriate. Which you were blind to." The last was spoken bitterly, the macabre storyteller taking a seat in a dusty armchair.
"I would have succeeded, eventually, but then you met the enchanting, charismatic, and oh so pure Regina Mills." Zelena glared daggers at the form in Robin's arms, causing him to tighten his hold on her.
"And when you announced your engagement, I knew there was only one way I was going to secure a place in your heart." All the color drained from Robin's face.
"Don't fret, she passed rather quickly- I take pride in my handiwork." Zelena shifted to gaze at the multiple gashes present on Regina's body, chuckling to herself.
Robin continued to stare at Zelena in horror, choking out "I could never love someone like you."
She suddenly became infuriated and departed the attic, leaving the grieving man with chilling parting words: "You have no choice."
Sherwood Manor, 2016
"Jealousy." Henry stated, bringing Emma out of her trance.
"What about it?"
"It's the oldest motive in the book. Zelena was probably jealous of Regina because she and Robin were going to get married, and she wanted Robin to herself. If that's the case, Marian was probably his first wife, and she killed her to free up the title of Mrs. Gracey." Emma had to agree with the kid, he was smart for his age.
"Might as well say it- Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." She snorted, mentally congratulating herself on her knowledge of 17th century British plays.
"Nice quote use, Mom. I didn't know you could sound so smart." She tossed a pillow at him in response.
"I'll remember that next time you want to use my credit card for Xbox Live." They shared a laugh, but it seemed as if the manor was determined to ruin the lighthearted atmosphere. A loud bang reverberated throughout the room, startling both of them.
"What the hell was that?" Emma held a hand to her chest in an attempt to calm her frantic pulse.
"Sounded like…a gunshot." Henry recovered faster than his mother, searching for what he believed to be the murder weapon.
"Hey mom- Zelena's note was definitely a suicide note, right?" Henry had opened the top dresser drawer, rummaging around inside.
"Pretty sure kid, why?" Whatever he had been searching so intently for, he found it, fishing the prize out of its hiding place and holding it up for her to see. It was an old Colt revolver.
"I think she shot herself."
Sherwood Manor, 1885
Every night was the same dream. She would find herself in the manor, only it would be completely empty. No lavish furniture, no elaborate chandeliers. Just dust and numerous cobwebs, maybe a spider or two. The main corridor would stretch endlessly in front of her- the glowing candelabra always just out of reach. As she ran, the eyes on the walls would follow, a stark contrast against their purple background. Her destination was always the master bedroom, harboring an empty gilded cradle. That's when the crying started, the wail of a newborn infant.
"It's alright Roland, mommy's here." A feminine voice soothed, and Zelena gulped. This was the part she hated. The ghostly silhouette of Regina reached down and gathered the bundle of blankets in her arms.
"My little prince…" Then she would turn to face the intruder, suddenly enraged.
"This is your fault!" She would scream, extending her hand out to grab the redhead. "He wasn't even born yet!" Of course, Zelena hadn't known the young bride was pregnant. Zelena was many things, but she would never stoop so low as to knowingly commit infanticide.
"I didn't know!" She responded, turning to run away. "I'm sorry!" Her surroundings would then shift to a graveyard. Along with the marked graves of those she had murdered, those demonic apparitions she was so familiar with would appear, grabbing whatever part of her they could reach.
"Join us! There's always room for one more!" They cackled, beginning to drag her into the mausoleum. This was where it would end, in her screams.
"I can't go on like this." Zelena mumbled, getting out of bed after another restless night. It had been five years since the murders, and three of those passed uneventfully. Then all of a sudden, the house roared to life. Doors opened and closed on their own accord, the floors creaked, and even sometimes a window would shatter. Things of hers would go missing, the crystal ball in particular, and nothing ever stayed in the same place. On rare occasions she would be visited by Regina's spirit, who constantly asked about Robin's whereabouts- as if she was unaware he died as well. Marian never strayed from the balcony, deeming it appropriate to reenact her death at the most inopportune times. Lastly there was Robin, who would pace the parlor, wondering where Regina was and why she left him at the alter. Of course, no haunted house would be complete without screaming and crying, and Zelena often had to go for a walk to escape the cacophony (if the spirits allowed it- she was their prisoner). The constant stress wore on her, and she made an executive decision. No more.
On a stormy April afternoon, she carried out her plan. Procuring a gun, she loaded and placed it on her bedside table for later use. There were still some final arrangements to attend to. Most importantly, the letter. After penning a rather well thought out suicide note, she folded it up and dropped it on the bed. Surely someone would find it eventually. It took a few hours to gather up the courage to go through with it, but at 11:11 that night, the gun went off. Her body dropped to the floor, but the house still had the final say. The crystal ball, resting nearby, trapped her spirit for all eternity.
