So I got a comment about Episode. Yes, that was me. I did upload the story on episode, and I'm so glad that you guys found it! I encourage all of you to go and read it. It's on the app Episode and is listed under the same name as the story. Anyway, let's begin.
So here we were back in the house. It was dark again, and I did not have the chains around my feet this time but slung across my body in a coil. It made moving a bit easier and was an easier defense if the Specter was to suddenly rush at me, as I could just drop them around my feet if I needed. But now was time to look for the diary. If there, in fact, actually was a diary in question. George had found floor plans at the archives and had printed out a copy for myself, him, and Lockwood. I decided to search the most likely places first. Diaries are some of the most common sources, you see. They're a hot spot for emotional connection. A case solved by Tendy's a few months ago on Fleet Street titled "The Shrieking Specter" was one good example. They had found the diary of the murdered woman who's spirit had been terrorizing the residents of the street. You know what the say, "One hath no fury like a woman scorned." After the diary was safely tucked away in a silver net, the spirit had vanished, along with her spectral shrieks.
I smoothed the map on my knee, examining the rooms. I figured that bedrooms on the second floor would be the best place to start. Bedrooms are where personal belongings are usually kept, and I had a sneaking feeling that they may still be there. I decided to start with the master bedroom. I thought that if I tore up the floorboards and found a source, the Cartwrights would be a bit more preoccupied with being ghost free to care about that much. I also figured they would have more than enough money to replace a few floorboards. I slid the map into the pocket of my coat, and drew my rapier. I made my way to the master bedroom.
The bedroom was quite lavish. It had a large king sized four poster bed with an embroidered comforter and pillows that looked as though they were made of silk. Along the bed there were also those smaller unnecessary pillows that rich people seemed to love. There was a red plush carpet on the floor, and a mahogany wardrobe pressed against the wall opposite me. The table in the corner had an array of family photos. There was a large bay window in the wall next to the wardrobe with another array of the small pillows, blankets folded neatly beside them. Night stands were on either side of the the great bed, lamps set on top. On the wall beside that was a vanity, adorned with expensive looking makeup, skin products, and hair products. And finally, behind the bed was a mahogany chest, probably filled with sweaters and blankets. I couldn't hear anything. Not even a buzz in the air. It was just quiet, and soft snowflakes fell outside the bay window, some of them catching on the glass. I needed to find Elizabeth's bedroom if I wanted to find out who J was. I wasn't sure if this was it, but it was worth looking. I started by crouching on the floor, touching my fingers to the floorboards. I heard nothing. The spot under the rug was next. Again, nothing. This room was obviously nothing relating to Elizabeth. I stood up again, leaving the bedroom. The daughter's room was next.
Lily Cartwright's room was lavish as well. There was a queen sized bed pushed against the opposite wall, adorned in stuffed animals and a purple duvet. It had a big white flower stitched into it, the pillowcase matching. A nightstand stood beside the bed, made of wood and painted white. The lamp that sat on top was one of those lamps that has a beaded shade, which in this case was pink. A toy chest sat in the other corner of the room, and there was a table about four feet away from the chest that had drawing utensils and paper with unfinished drawings strewn across it. On the wall that the bed was pressed against, there was also a bay window, though a bit smaller that the one in the master bedroom. It had a flower shaped pillow tucked into the corner, plush blankets with polka dots and other patters printed across them folded beside it. A few other pillows in various shapes were also piled there. The gauzy white curtains were tied back with purple ribbon. On the wood floor was a large carpet in the shape of a star, and a white dresser was pushed against the wall to my left beside the door. The walls were painted a gentle shade of violet. It was nice. However nice it was didn't matter, though. I tightened the grip on my sword. Was the diary here? Or was something else? That wasn't really possible, as nobody else was on record to have died in the house. I walked to stand in the center of the room. I closed my eyes and focused. I couldn't hear anything, but then again, the diary may not be the source. I finally turned my head and noticed the closet in the corner. I stepped forward, opening the door. It had been converted into a book shelf and was adorned with a large array of children's books. I groaned in frustration. How was I ever going to find the diary?
Then I noticed something.
Below the bottom shelf was an empty space. Well, empty if you moved the books there. It had a board lay over it, covering the bare floor and acting as a shelf. I knelt down and pulled the books out, putting them in a stack and praying that the board wasn't nailed to the floor. It wasn't. I lifted it as well, and came face to face with another empty space. It was just blackness underneath the board that was acting as a shelf. I unclipped my flashlight from my belt, and shone it down the hole. Below was floor insulation, yellow with age. I carefully moved it aside, and dug around in the space. My fingers wrapped around something, and I pulled it out. It was a small black box. I opened it, and inside was a ring. It was silver with a scalloped setting, and a small diamond set into it. It was an engagement ring. I hesitated before I pressed the tips of my fingers to the ring. I instantly got echoes.
A murmur of voices, one male, one female. A laugh, jubilant. But they suddenly changed into arguing, and a woman sobbing. Someone speaking softly. I pulled my fingers away, and tears prickled the corners of my eyes. I hurriedly set down the box, snapping it shut. Had J planned to propose? I sighed, and kept digging. My fingers wrapped around something else, this object flatter. My heart rose with hope as I pulled it out. I nearly clapped as I pulled out a book. It was leather bound and crackled with age, the red ribbon marking the place the writer left off frayed and stiff. I opened it, coughing violently as a cloud of dust arose into my face, and I waved it away with my hand. It was Elizabeth's alright. It said so inside the cover.
This Journal belongs to Elizabeth Allen Anthonyson.
Anthonyson had been added later, as the ink that "This Journal belongs to Elizabeth Allen" was written in was much more faded than the ink that was used to write "Anthonyson."
I put the book down next to the ring, and carefully covered the hole again, and re shelved the books. I then went to the bay window and sat down, opening the diary. I had put the box containing the ring in my coat pocket. I flipped through the book a bit. Elizabeth had received it from her mother in 1917. I flipped more until Benjamin was finally mentioned.
November 17th, 1921
Hello Diary!
I've been in town with James today. It was so romantic. he took me to a tea shop and told me how beautiful I was. It hurts me to say I'm leaving him soon. While I love him very much, as we've known one another since childhood, I have met someone. His name is Benjamin. I've been seeing him for nearly one month now, and he wants to go public. He comes from a rich family, and my mother approves very strongly of him.
Liz
His name was James. Is he J though? All signs pointed to him. I kept reading.
November 23rd, 1921
I broke it off with James just as he chose to propose. I began to cry as soon as I saw the ring. I love him, but I love my Benny more. I told him no, and he too cried, and told me to keep the ring. I accepted to remind me of what I had with him. I then went to meet Benny, and he saw me crying and asked me what was wrong. I told him it was James. He had proposed. Benny was angry, but he kept himself composed. I was proud of him. Though I have been seeing James everywhere lately. Is he following me, I wonder? I tried to approach him, but he ran off.
Liz.
I found myself wondering if James had begun to stalk her.
December 12th, 1921
James tried to talk to me in the garden today. He began calling my Benny crazy, and that he would hurt me. I got madder than I should have and called him insane. When he left, he had a very peculiar look in his eye. It scares me to think about what it could mean.
Liz
I raised an eyebrow, but turned the page.
December 25th, 1921
Benny is hosting a party tonight. It will be wonderful! I have a beautiful red dress picked out that makes me look like a rich woman. It's embroidered with beautiful golden beads, and Benny says he loves it. It makes me happy. I've invited James to come. I feel so bad for laving him like I did, but I just don't love him enough to marry him. I must go to the party now, Benny is calling me.
Liz
December 25th, 1921
The party was wonderful! I walked down the stairs hand and hand with Benny He stopped and in front of everyone, he proposed! Of course I said yes! My ring is beautiful. It is a diamond with real gold. I danced with Benny until James asked for a word, and as soon as we were alone, he tried to kiss me. I pushed him off, disgusted! The nerve! He asked me if I loved him, and I said I did, but I loved Benny more, and that marrying him is what I want. I love Benny. With tears in my eyes, I asked him to be happy for me. He said would try.
Liz
My breath caught in my throat.
January 6th, 1922
I went for a dress today. I think I found the one. It's long and white with beads all down the sides. I have a veil that reaches the ground. I feel like a queen all draped in that gorgeous dress. I can't wait for the wedding!
Liz
May 10th, 1922
I was married today! The procession went smoothly and the dance afterwards was so romantic. James stared at me the whole time. It scared me.
Liz
I flipped through a few more pages, but the rest was blank. Elizabeth had died soon after her wedding. In February of 1923. I clutched the diary to my chest, and exited the room, closing it behind me. I needed to find Lockwood and George to tell them that the search was over. The diary had been found. And the ring... Was it the source?