December 3rd, 1735

I awoke in the middle of the night, my head clouded with sleep. I wasn't aware of what had awoken me, but apparently, whatever it was, it awoke Tessa too. She sat up and looked around the room.

"What was that?" she asked quietly as I leaned over onto my nightstand and lit a lamp.

"I don't know." I whispered, twisting my body around and sliding my legs out of bed.

I slowly, cautiously, start to get dressed. Tessa slipped out of bed as well. She started fiddling aloud with her wardrobe, drawing out a dress to wear. However, we both froze when we heard something from on the other side of our bedroom.

It was a voice, a child's voice, his voice shrill in terror. "MOTHER!" Haytham screamed.

My eyes widened in horror, and I snatched my sword from where it hung on the wall above the bed board. I grabbed the lantern in my other hand and burst onto the landing, half dressed.

I had seconds to take the scene in before me. My son, Haytham, just nine years old, had reached the top of the stairs, on the other side of the landing. Between us, facing me, there was a man wearing a long, black leather waistcoat and a half face mask. He had his sword drawn, and seemed to have been trying to sneak to me and Tessa's room. There was another man, also with his sword drawn and a half-face mask, was running towards the bottom of the stairs, stepping over the bodies of various servants.

"Haytham!" I yelled, scanning him up and down to make sure he was not hurt. Thankfully, he didn't appear to be.

The man on the landing between Haytham and I turned towards my son, his face breaking into a grin as Tessa exited the room behind me. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in the scene before us, the man charging for our son.

"Haytham!" I shouted again, bolting for the man after thrusting my lantern into Tessa's trembling hands.

From across the landing, I saw Haytham give a small, quiet gasp in fear. He turned and started to run back down the stairs, literally running into the man I saw on the lower level at the base of the stairs, just as I caught the first intruder. Haytham ran up to about half way up the stairs, clearly panicked.

I swung my sword, attempting to catch him on the shoulder, but he swung around and blocked my blow with his own sword. We continued on fighting in the darkness, steel clashing against steel, and the occasional grunt whenever one of us managed to hit the other with our fists. Fury was what was motivating me. No one gets to threaten or hurt my son.

Eventually I managed to step forward and thrust my sword upwards against my opponent's hand, forcing his sword out of it. It landed on the ground with a clatter and skidded a couple of feet away into the darkness. I grabbed the attacker by the collar of his shirt and swung him over the railing of the landing. The man screamed as he fell, but it was abruptly cut short as he hit the floor below with a thud and a sickening crunch.

A third man from below have a shout of what was almost triumph as he ran below the balcony into a room beneath us. The man whom Haytham had run into before, who was about halfway up the stairs, for Haytham had scurried to the top and was standing near Tessa, turned and ran back to the bottom and grabbed the railing, swinging himself around on the railing and left to join his comrade.

My eyes widened as I realized where they were headed. They were going to get my journal, with all the information on Those Who Came Before I had collected over the years. It was in the secret compartment, along with Haytham's sword, in...

"The Games Room." I whispered, although I had no idea how they would know it was there.

I shot one last glance at my family, Haytham looking determinedly brave and Tessa looking petrified with fear, and I realized that Jennifer wasn't there. Vowing to look for her once I dispatched the two enemies in the Games Room, I vaulted over the railing and landed in a roll.

"Edward!" Tessa screamed as I did so.

I ignored her and ran to the Games Room, the Entrance Hall beginning to smell distinctly like smoke, a ghostly orange light starting to flicker on the walls. I cursed.

I reached the door to the Games Room to find that it was already slightly ajar. I thrust it all the way open to find one of the masked men opening the secret compartment on the bookcase, and drawing out my journal.

I leaped forward and attempted to knock the journal out of the intruder's hand with my sword, but he danced out of reach. The other intruder advanced, his sword already drawn, forcing me back into the corner. The other man tucked my journal into his coat before he too drew his sword and entered the fray.

I blocked and hacked and slashed at my opponents as they did the same to me. From out in the Entrance Hall I could hear Tessa give a small cry. I risked a glance outside to see her sprawled on the ground, and Haytham standing above her, watching her, seeming to hesitate. Seeing them reinvigorated my fury, and I slashed my sword across the face of the man that did not have my journal. The man gave a cry of pain and surprise, reaching up his free hand towards the wound.

"Time to finish this." sneered the other man.

Before I could do anything more than turn towards him, my sword already lifting to block his blow, the man plunged his sword into my chest. Time seemed to slow down. As if in slow-motion, I felt his sword slide into me, neatly parting my flesh, organs, and bones on either side of it as it created a void in my body, its blade eventually protruding from my back on the other side when it was hilt-deep before me.

I fell to my knees an looked up at the intruders with utmost loathing, just as the door burst open once more and Haytham ran inside the room. I watched as his eyes widened in horror as he took in the scene before him. I silently begged him to turn around and run away, back to his mother and find Jenny, and then the three of them would escape the house together. I was done for; surely Haytham knew that?

Of course, I had trained him too well. His eyes burning with rage, he flew at my attacker, his sword still buried in my chest. The man drops its hilt, and I fell to the floor. Both men were caught by surprise; it seems neither we're prepared for a nine, almost ten year old, to attack them with a sword he probably picked up from one of the dead attackers.

I tried to call out to him, to tell him to run away, but a gob of blood spewed from my mouth, and my voice was lost.

The second man walked up behind Haytham, as the child continued to make his attacks on my killer, and I watched as he swung his arm, his knuckles making contact with Haytham's temple. My son collapsed on the floor across from me, his eyes slightly out of focus, his lids half closed.

Rage boiled in my stomach, but I could do nothing. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. I could only feel two things; rage and terrible pain.

Eventually Haytham's eyes widened, and they focused on me. We made eye contact, and I once again tried to speak, my hand reaching out towards him. I tried to tell him to get away while he still could. I tried to tell him that I was done for, and that he should save himself, his mother, and his sister while he still could. Most of all, I tried to tell him that I loved him.

"Father." Haytham whispered.

Before anything else could happen, however, my killer reached out and grabbed his sword. He pulled it out of me, my body writhing in excruciating pain. My mouth opened in a silent scream, before falling into a grimace as the sword completely exited my body. And I could feel and think no more.