Belleville’s Manor

On a day of the month when the orange and brown leaves fall from their trees, I got up one morning, got ready and walked, my step hesitant. I had to visit a mansion located outside a small country town. It took me about twenty minutes on foot. As I arrived at the manor, the owner, an old man of about sixty, sickly, with a face full of wrinkles, moving slowly and with withered hands:

– Hello Madam, he said to me.

– Hello Mr. Ali”

He nodded and waved his hand to invite me to follow him. The mansion had three floors: on the first floor, two small living rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. On the second floor, three bedrooms, a second bathroom and an empty room. On the third floor, the attic, a last bedroom and a last bathroom as well as a library. We climbed the stairs slowly, the steps creaking under our feet tired of the immensity of the mansion. He told me that before him, an English earl, now dead, died in what is now the living room. His wife died a few months later, still in what is now the living room.

Then we went downstairs to inspect the living room. A bookcase, a wooden table, a sofa with Persian motifs and a long burgundy red carpet. I moved forward from the dusty table and ran my index finger along the table before blowing on it:

– Do you know where the deceased died?

– The husband died on this carpet.

My attention was focused on the burgundy red carpet and I noticed a brown stain:

– What is this stain?

– The story goes that the Earl was drinking his coffee and fell, probably due to a heart attack.

– How old was he ?

– Around thirty years old.

– A heart attack at such a young age? »

He nodded, also surprised, like me. I squatted down on the carpet and touched the coffee stain on the carpet. Why would a young person die of a heart attack?

– What about the woman?

– She died of the same thing. When she was in her twenties."

Then, I turned to him, shocked:

– Why are you selling this mansion?

He paused for a moment before answering me:

– I’m old and climbing stairs all day wears me out.

A sly smile appeared on his face and two wrinkles formed on his cheeks:

– This mansion has a certain charm.

– Effectively. Despite the history of these deaths, why did you buy this mansion?

– Before, I lived there with my wife and children. My wife died a few years ago and my children no longer want to talk to me and have immigrated to this country that people call...the United States, I think.

– What did your wife die of?

– Unfortunately, I do not know, my dear lady. I didn't want to do an autopsy.

– I understand "

I walked around the living room while his eyes kept following me to know my every move:

– You know, no one wants to buy this mansion and I’ll understand if you don’t want to.”

I got closer to the old man and sweat began to bead on his forehead while his breathing became harsh:

– My good sir…

He cleared his throat as his hands began to shake. Its physical manifestations were characteristic of fear. But why was he afraid?

– My good sir, I want to buy it.

– How ?!

– I want to buy this mansion.

– Are you sure ?

– Yes.

– But…

– So what do you have?

– It’s that…

– Hmmm? »

His gaze became shifty while I tried at all costs to look him straight in the eyes. Trembling, he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. Looking panicked, he caught his breath for a few moments before whispering:

– I’m the owner but, I don’t want to lie to you. This mansion is…haunted.

– A haunted mansion?

– Yes indeed. »

I burst out laughing as he looked at me in surprise:

– Miss, don’t make fun of the spirits!

– Spirits do not exist, Sir.

– If…

– How can you know?

– Everyone says that the Earl and his wife died after seeing a ghost. I tell you, this mansion is haunted! Don’t waste your sweet and precious life by cutting it short!

– Listen, I'm convinced that ghosts don't exist.

– You should not doubt their existence!

– Listen, I want to buy this mansion and if you don't want to sell it to me then...

– Yes, yes, yes! I'm going to go get the notary. Wait here, he's waiting in the backyard.»

I was convinced that ghosts did not exist. Ghosts are just an unreal and supernatural thing about which adults tell totally grotesque tales and legends to make their children obey them. My aunt told me that a ghost came to visit naughty children and ate their hair so that they would be ashamed when they went out into the street.

But, I never believed it and obviously, this pompous ghost did not exist. I stood there in the living room, patiently waiting for the notary and the owner. A few minutes later they arrived and we signed the papers concluding the purchase of the mansion. Then the notary left, almost running, as if frightened.

Then the old man leads me to the door:

– Congratulations on your purchase of Belleville Manor, he chirped.

– THANKS.

He left me, leaving me alone on the steps of the manor door, running despite the fact that he was walking slowly. I looked up at the majestic structure, feeling a slight chill run down my spine. Ghosts don't exist, I thought. This man must obviously be crazy. I took a deep breath and crossed the threshold of the mansion, determined to prove to myself that this house was not haunted and that the presence of a ghost was absolutely absurd. Rumors are just morals and a bunch of lies.

The night I bought my sale, I headed into the living room, a plate of my favorite food in hand, and sat down on the couch. As I grabbed my fork, I heard a deafening noise coming from the kitchen. I dropped my fork and went to the kitchen where I saw knives on the floor. Raising my head, I saw the cupboard open. Weird, I didn't remember leaving it open.

Afterwards, I saw the window half open. Relieved, I closed it, because the draft must certainly have knocked the knives out of the cupboard. Finally, I returned to the living room where I finished eating my meal. The meal finished, I did the dishes and went to my room where I made the bed. A long silence settled over the mansion as I hurried down the stairs to the living room. I grabbed my phone and called my friend, telling her about settling into my new residence. Suddenly I heard a knock at the front door. This seemed strange to me since I didn't know anyone from the neighborhood and no one knew I was coming.

I put my phone down and paused the call while I went to see what was causing the knocking. When I arrived, the knocking stopped. Certainly the branches of the trees, I thought inwardly. I touched the wooden door and suddenly the knocking started again. Minute by minute, the knocks intensified. Terrified and petrified by fear, I fell to the ground, my heart pounding, and my face in my hands. I was frozen in place as shivers ran through my entire body. Palpitations throughout my entire body. Terrible fear. I closed my eyes, fighting my instinct to cry and scream. Suddenly the knocking stopped.

With a trembling hand, my fingers touched the lock and I turned it to see leafless trees. It was just the branches that were banging violently on the door because of the autumn wind. I huffed because my fear was completely explainable and unjustified. I stood up slowly, one of my hands still on my face.

The evening spent watching television, I got up to go to the bedroom as I lay down on the bed. Suddenly I saw a shadow in front of the window. Panicked, I rushed to the switch to turn on the light but it was only unfortunate branches that were hitting the window and it was only their shadows that I saw. Soothed, I returned to my bed and wrapped myself in my blanket and covered my head with my pillow.

A few hours later, suddenly, I woke up, overcome by intense thirst. So, I quickly went downstairs and into the kitchen where I grabbed a bottle of milk from the refrigerator. Then I poured milk into my glass. Unconsciously, I spilled my drink on myself and hastily ran to the bathroom. The stain on my greige top disappeared after a few minutes of rubbing on it. I raised my head to look at my mirror and tucked a few strands of hair behind my ears before smiling.

I noticed a strange stain on it and blew on it to create mist. Through the mist, blurred words jumbled together, transforming my reflection into a crossed-out skull. I let out a cry of fright and what was my amazement when a sentence appeared next to the crossed out skull: “You. To have. Doubt. Demon. Existence ". This couldn't be real... Chills ran through my fingers as my teeth chattered non-stop. I rubbed my eyes, hoping the terrifying vision would go away, but the words were still there. A new sentence appeared: “You’re going to regret this, Kira.”

How was this possible? Why did words appear by themselves? How was this possible? I pinched my arms, hoping to snap out of this waking nightmare, but I could definitely feel the pain. Suddenly the words disappeared and my eyes widened. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. But, a new phrase appeared: “Get out of the bathroom.” I gathered up my courage and erased the words with the sleeve of my top.

The feeling of relief washed over me again as the words slowly faded from my vision.

My feet led me reluctantly out of the room and the door slammed shut. It now seemed impossible to me that it was just a simple and banal current of air. There must have been something strange about this house. It was not just a simple country residence. Maybe the old man was right after all. But ghosts couldn't exist! It was inconceivable! All these events must have only been a figment of my imagination. However, as I walked away from the dark and mysterious room, a chilling feeling crept in. A mysterious mist began to come from the front door and enveloped the entire hallway. I stood frozen in place, staring at the mist that was slowly spreading throughout the floor. I could almost feel an invisible presence through the mist, something more sinister than I could imagine. Suddenly, screams began to echo through the room. My eyes popped out of their sockets as I saw the mist getting thicker and thicker and heard the screams getting louder and more piercing.

They were ready to pierce my soul. I frantically looked for a way out, but the mist seemed to imprison me, suffocate me. Running at full speed, I almost fell on a step of the stairs and took refuge in my room. I slammed the door shut and the screaming disappeared and stopped instantly.

I grabbed my phone as I jumped on the bed and searched my contacts for my best friend's number. Suddenly, phone numbers started disappearing from my phone book. I clicked on my best friend's number and heard it ring but the only voice I heard was from the phone company:

– This number is not listed. Sobs began to form in my eyes as the mist began to creep in from under the door. The mist slipped silently into my room, wrapping its cold fingers around my ankles. A scream escaped my lips as a voice began to echo through the room.

– Kira. Do you still doubt my existence?

My lips felt sewn as I tried to respond. Nothing, not even a whistle could come out of my mouth. So I tried to nod my head. I closed my eyes...

My eyelids opened and, to my surprise, I recognized my university room. I stood up and scanned the room. It wasn't the mansion, it was actually my little room at the local university I go to. A sigh of relief left my lips. So it was just a nightmare... Then, I left my bed to walk around the room. I opened the window so that the sun's rays lit the room. I sat down at my desk and noticed a large bound book. As I picked it up, I saw large golden letters that served as the title. The large letters read: Belleville Manor. My eyes widened.

As I looked through my desk drawers, I saw the papers of my acquisition of a mansion, the name of which was the same as in the dream, and as I looked through the papers, I saw the name of the old man from my dream. I pinched myself, trying to wake up from another nightmare. But… It was reality.