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The Manor

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Ernest and his mother move into a desolate home in the rural community, and they both find out that anyone can be delusional. Ernest finds himself in a quite troublesome scenario which puzzles him and his abusive mother. He keeps questioning everything as he is unsure what is real and what is not.

Horror / Thriller
4.0 2 reviews
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

The Manor

Part one:

I was a young boy when I first moved to the manor. There was nothing notable when I first arrived. My mother was a very tall person. She always seemed to find herself infatuated with any man who came her way. However, her excessive nagging and dreadful personality made most men run. She stood towering, and had green eyes along with brunette hair. The only other trait I found
was her constant self-conscience that became quite apparent.

My mother was also very abusive. If she wasn’t verbally abusing me, she was physically inflicting me. I was the only sibling and therefore meant I was the only outlet for her anger.

We moved here to escape our previous situation. The scenario was my father had died in a drunken stupor. One night he had decided that he would get intoxicated and drive. In theory to most this is dumb. But I guess some minds conflict with the average. So following the news my mom had found that the only option was to move away. Away from a particularly troubling situation. So we had.

We moved far away from metropolis into the rural community. In most cases this would ‘break the bank.’ However, my mom had found an estate suspiciously under-valued. The residence was far out into the country away from city problems. So far in fact, our nearest neighbor was over a kilometer away.

So, instead of questioning the exceedingly low price my mother grabbed this opportunity without another thought. The decision was so quick to happen I wasn’t even made aware until moving day had arrived. I was in elementary school sitting in my quaint classroom when suddenly the intercom came to life.

“Hello, we are looking for a Mr. Ernest.”

The intercom stated. So I sauntered off to the office where my mother had been waiting. She held only a suitcase and registration form to my new school and said.

“Ernest, we are moving. Far away.”

She clearly hadn’t thought of me neither my friendships that had been established. Which, may I mention were very low. All she had done was drag me to her car unwillingly and forced me to move to an unknown estate. I was unsurprisingly not very thrilled. My mother and I had argued that entire trip. She said such things as.

“Your opinion does not matter Ernest!”

Or even more disregarding of my thoughts.

“What friends Ernest you have none!”

She expressed a very troubling smirk while saying that. This was the breaking point for me. But unlike most, I did not have an outburst. I just sat and said nothing. I just fathomed the worst and kept my thoughts to myself. This was something more horrifying then an outburst, as I had bottled up emotion to a point I was unable to even speak.

We eventually arrived to the manor. The driveway was long and made of cobblestone. The house stood quite tall, and the building was massive. The estate contained a garden, one you would imagine in a stereotypical horror movie. The house left me uneasy even before entering. We unpacked the trunk and entered only to be greeted by a very cold breeze. I shivered and began attempting to warm my extremities.

My mom let out a sigh of relief and said.

“Don’t you see Ernest, this is what we need peace and quiet.”

She wasn’t all wrong, but I was already antisocial as it is. So I felt as though she wasn’t thinking about ‘us’ but instead herself. This was very apparent by her tone. I ran off to explore the residence. But most of all to escape my mother. I found the kitchen and living quarters. Both being a very olden fashion. Some objects were very rusted. However, the most note worthy thing I had saw so far was a door that lead to the cellar.

Just the thought leaves shivers down my spine. As soon as you opened the door you froze. The stairs were extremely creaky and the wood frames of the steps were slowly deteriorating. I attempt to step down but the step nearly broke when I applied very little pressure. So, I had just ignored the region of the house for the time being.

I then heard my mothers voice screeching.

“Ernest come help me unpack right now!”

I rolled my green eyes and unappeasably walked slowly back toward her voice. When she saw me all she did was point to the object that she wanted me to move. I did move the object without a thought to avoid an argument. I placed the suitcase in her room and folded the clothes contained accordingly.

After multiple hours of labor as my mother lounged on a chair outside night had already arrived. This was the point when things became very bizarre. So bizarre most would be ossified just by the sight.

Part Two:

The moon arose quite fast as I had concluded unpacking. At first I found nothing strange. However, as time progressed to the later hours I began noticing sounds. These sounds began with creaks, which are common in such an ancient house. But became whispers which I couldn’t exactly understand. Just whisks and inaudible screeches. But they were so faint I just became ignorant and assumed them to be just a figment of my imagination. I then found when I was about to rest that they became progressively more realistic.

The faintness soon became fairly decisive voices which would whisper such phrases as.

“Leave, while you can.”


“Just wait until I get you.”

This became now inexcusable. My mom now fast asleep also was disrupted by these occurrences. She woke up and screamed.

“Ernest, quiet down I am trying to sleep.”

Her blood vessel nearly popped out of her forehead as she yelled. I did not even bother to respond as I was aware that I was not the source. I eventually did black out in a some what troubled state. I woke up to no one in the premises. I scattered the area in search of my mother. Only to find a note in the dining area which read.

“Hi Ernest, I have left to buy some groceries and will not return hopefully until night fall.”

I was baffled. She was clearly not attending to groceries but was likely meeting some man on the corner street in town. This misconstrued all of my worrisome thoughts. Which now seems much to coincidental. Almost as if someone, or something had done this on purpose. So, I had nothing much to do other then roam the house. I had decided to revisit an area previously unbeknown to me, The cellar.

I skipped the first step as I had previously found out lacked structural stability. So I avoided the step and went to the next. Luckily it was not about to collapse. I resumed walking to the bottom of the staircase. This is where I found something unspeakable. Almost, imperceptible to most…

Part Three:

As I slowly descended into the dim lit abyss these strange noises became very apparent. The walls would sound as if they were being banged on and the voices reoccurred from the previous night. Unlike most however, I was to keen to unravel the mystery. So I continued down the staircase until I met the end. There was room, or at least I believe there was but I couldn’t see very well. I walked forward with my hands held out forward. I then hit some cord and pulled onto it. Finally a light source came on.

I saw scribblings on the wall which read.

“Get me out of here.”

The markings seemed to be made by someones nails. The strange part is do to how bold they were they were likely done over a very long period. I also then recognized numerals carved on the wall tallying each day spent in the cellar. After counting each one there was about forty-two. This indicated someone had been imprisoned in this room for a very long stretch of time. That was when things began going downhill. The light bulb went from static to off and I fell into utter shock.

I stood not moving a muscle, well more like incapable. I began feeling something briskly touch my body. Finally some invisible being breathed heavily on me. The light came back on and I saw… Well, a figure a very volatile one. The being had blood pouring all over its face and torso. The spirit all so shared a very eerie resemblance to my mother.

I did not say anything and did not speak. The spirit then pointed me at some ancient door at the corner of the room. I was hesitant but had figured if I hadn’t listened I would be harmed. So I slowly moved toward the door and opened it. I walked in very petrified and saw a corpse lying there. The body was of a man with an Axe held in his right arm.

I gasped and wept. He also had his head severed and left hanging on the wall. I felt the same breath overcome me except this time I all so heard words.

“Rock a bye baby, please don’t you cry, my little Ernest mustn’t be down, so simply push forward don’t coward about. My little Ernest can’t shut his mouth..”

The voice stopped unprecedented. The lights flickered back to life and everything vanished. I found myself halfway down the steps thoughtless. The only thought to cross my mind however, was,
“Where am I.”

I was puzzled, as I had just been taunted by some nefarious spirit only to then be on the stairs. I did not know what to conjure up.
‘I must be insane.’
I thought to myself.
‘No, but it was so real.’
I was intrigued yet coercively confused. So I did what one can only do in such a situation. I ran ramped up the stairs and never thought of that momentary nightmare like experience again.

Part Four:

For the rest of that day I sat anxious in the garden. My heart was racing and I glared back and fourth horror filled. My mother eventually arrived with her lipstick smeared around her face and some man holding her inebriated body up. I did not speak a word neither did she. Her and her new found fling just went to her room to likely perform intercourse. The sun began to set yet again. I ran off to my room in hopes maybe I could shelter out there to avoid any further estranged behavior. Sadly this didn’t seem to help, as I heard my mothers moans heighten sounds began again.

Banging became heavy, and came from the walls. Then the voices started again. That was when all of a sudden I heard my mother scream in agony.


I pounced out of my bed and ran to my mothers room, nothing. No one in sight no even the man she had came with. I ransacked the entire room and found nobody. That was when I came to a conclusion which I wished I hadn’t. ‘The cellar,’ I thought to my self. That is the only place she could be. I evaded her quarters and dashed toward the cellar. I attempted to open the door but it seemed to be bolted shut. I began kicking and bashing at the antique wood. The door eventually gave in and I had climatically kicked the door off of it’s hinges.

I scampered toward the cellar and heard whimpers from another room upstairs. I tried to turn back but the entirety of the room was cement. Almost as if I had been on some psychedelic trip. I banged viciously at the walls and yelled.

“Mother, where are you!”

That was the moment when some daemonic figure appeared in front of me.

“Honey, I am right here.”

The voice said soothingly. I glimpsed only momentarily and looked away.

“You are not my mother!”

I attempted to state firmly, but it came out blatantly horrified.

“But I am, don’t you recognize me?”

The voice said progressively beginning to taunt me. I wept and collapsed onto the floor vulnerable and startled. I closed my eyes and only depicted happy things. But nothing happy appeared just morbid scenes of death and agony. That was when I felt myself being slowly dragged on the concrete floor and thrown into another room. The room was made of an old brick and the only apparent light source was some flickering light. I tried to move but was shackled to a fixture in the corner. The next thing I caught sight of was a door which had materialized out of thin air. Some man walked through it. He was bulky and had his flesh exposed. The man held a hatchet in his left hand and wore a mask which was scarcely similar to one you would see in a horror flick.

He did not speak. I shook in terror unable to move. He sat beside me and placed the hatchet beside him, he sat and just seemed to stare into my soul. Eventually he did speak but all he said was,

“You are a small one ain’t you?”

He laughed maliciously while he said it. Then he proceeded to run his blood saturated hand down my pail face.

“Why are you so scared? I am not going to hurt you….”

He stopped very rapid like in his sentence and continued.

“I am just going to make you suffer horribly.”

He took off his mask to reveal a face which I couldn’t quite devise but was very familiar.

“Oh, you don’t remember me, son?”

I was shocked and now it all had came back to me. My mother always spoke fondly of my father and explained how he had been a somewhat delusional man. But this just did not add up. Why was my father here, in this house?

“Now time for your demise!”

Part Five:

All of a sudden I was awaken in some mental like institution with a physician above me examining me. My mother stood beside him and they were conversing.

“Your son seems to have had some sort of mental break down ma’am. We will need to keep him for a day or two but if you would like you could speak with him briefly.”

The doctor said very business like as if to portray his apparent professionalism.

“Yes, please.”

The doctor left the room and slammed a metal door behind him which left a huge ‘thud.’

“Mom, what… what happened.”

I said very sickened and weak. She looked at me worrisome.

“Well last night I woke up to you rummaging the basement and speaking to yourself. You were speaking about your father. I didn’t see much as you scared the hell out of me. But after that you just attacked me.”

She sighed and stood up.

“Look, I have to go. Sweetie please get better.”

She waved at the doctor through a window and he sanctioned her out. I just sat and thought provoked myself . I was baffled and clueless on how this could have happened. Just a moment ago I was in some room in my residences cellar and now I am residing in some mental institution. I had nothing to do but sit and mindlessly stare into the empty abyss. The room I sat in was made of brick and the only furniture that was present was some horrid metal bed which only had some ripped mattress on top of it.

No one entered my room for over an hour. When someone finally appeared in the doorway it was some man who was wearing glasses and holding a leather briefcase. He came with a chair held in his hand which he placed in front of me. He proceeded to take a seat and pulled out a large stack of blank white notepads. He moved his glasses up his nasal bridge and spoke.

“Hello Ernest, I am Dr.Herman. I will be attending to your mental stated and will work with you as somewhat of a mental support.”

I did not respond I just nodded my head.

“Now, can you tell me your perceived visions you have told your mother about?”

I glared at him and slowly opened my mouth to answer.

“Well, I just saw things. Very horrific things.”

I communicated what I had seen and he just looked at me attempting to not make me look insane. After conversing for a short period he concluded the discussion and said we would talk daily. He left and released me of my restraints. After he had fled I began to look around for stimulus. I found nothing but a window with a view of another brick wall. The room induced me with depressive thoughts. ‘What do I do.’ I thought to myself out of boredom.

I was contained in that room for three long dreadful days, until my mother finally came one day to get me. After signing some forums we headed off into the car and we drove off. She hugged me and said.
‘I love you.’ In the first time for what seemed to be a millennium. We arrived back to the house while dusk had just began. My mother had received some pharmaceutical to give to me before I slept. So I consumed the pill and dozed off in a long, deep slumber. That was when I heard something much to familiar. Banging, and loud thudding coming from the cellar.

I felt terrorized and resisted to avoid anything else to happen. I attempted to sleep but I kept on being awaken by voices uttering.

“Come to me.”

I finally became fed up and expedited off to the cellar. As soon as I reached the edge of the staircase I became much to anger filled and stated firmly.

“I am done with these shenanigans! No more I am fed up!”

But even after my lecture I still heard the same sounds. In fact, the voices exceeded their usual volume. I finally had enough of the bottled of emotions. I ran upward to the garage and found a vessel containing gas. I retrieved it and got hold of a lighter from my mothers room. I very slowly crept toward her purse and without making a noise grabbed the lighter. I ran to the cellar and spread gasoline all over the cellars interior. Then I walked to the top of the staircase and dropped the lit lighter into the flammable gas.

The gas burnt and slowly trailed downward as I watched in hopes this would end the terror. But anti climatically the flame halted in it’s trail. I was utterly stricken with en-puzzlement. ‘Why had the flame stopped.’ Then the concluded flame was followed by a voice whispering.

“You can’t burn me down.”

The voice said very faintly seemingly mimicking my mothers voice.

“You can’t burn down our love.”

Goosebumps overcame me. Someone was mocking my mother or at least attempting to sound like her, but why? To comfort me, confuse me, or allure me toward them, I was clueless. I just stood motionless.

“Alright honey it’s time to go.”

Out of nowhere I was dragged in a fast manner descending into the cellars bunker. I was pulled and thrown violently in a claustrophobia inducing room. The door majestically closed and was bolt locked. I started slamming on the door and began to weep. The only other thing I heard was.

“Now we can be together forever.”

Part Five:

I sat traumatic and waiting patiently for me to wake up. Like I had before, or at least be in a better scenario then I was in now. Time passed and I became progressively more aghast as time passed. All I thought was, ‘ how could this happen.’ As I sat just waiting for something, anything to happen. But nothing did. I did eventually dose off into a dream like state. In my dream I was sitting on a cloud above everyone, I was all powerful and no one could obstruct my happiness, If only dreams could be real. Sadly, they are not.

All I could do was sit pitifully waiting for what was to come. I could only imagine that what would come was a great deal of emotional and physical pain. Finally after having waited for an extensive period the same man who claimed to be my father walked in with someone held on his shoulder unconscious. It was a woman who had a bag put on her face to conceal her face. He threw her to the ground and revealed her identity. In my shock it was my mother hyperventilating yet still blacked out. The man then breifly spoke.

“Do you recognize her?”

The man said in a mischievous tone. I did not respond even with a body gesture.

“Answer me you vermin!”

I had tears running down my face.

“That’s my mother.”

I stated while stuttering uncontrollably.

“Why yes it is. But let me correct you, this is not your mother just a person you believe to be her.”

I looked at him now intrigued by what he meant by ‘believed to be her.’

“I can see I have caught your interest now boy.”

He said quite fond of my attention I was paying.

“You see she is not your mother. She just made you think that your entire lifespan. This woman decided she would abduct a toddler and claim it as her own. It is a sick sadistic thing to do don’t you think.”

I nodded awe-fully in disbelief.

“She took you away from me. She just took you, no questions asked.”

He said respondent to my reaction. All I could think to myself was, ‘this man is delusional.’ He continued.

“She grabbed you out of the nursery and fled like a damned coward, and that is why you are going to witness this putrid womans death. Then we can finally be together son.”

He grinned as if he thought this was some bonding exercise. That was when my mother awoke to his face above her.


She said recognizing his face.

“Where am I?”

My mother did know this man. Maybe, his notation wasn’t so false maybe this lunatic was my father.

“Oh, hello Melinda. You woke right in time for your death.”

She struck a terrified look. He withdrew his hatchet and just as he was about to cut her I broke free of the chains and jumped at him.

“Get off of me, what are you doing Ernest!”

I began bashing his skull in and wailing on him at full force. My mother was gasping in complete confusion. She clearly had not devised what was happening quite yet. I beat him until he appeared to be out. I then proceeded to grab my mothers hand to flea the cellar. We ran full speed out of the basement and got up stairs when I caught a glimpse of Abe just grasping life. He was holding a pistol and began shooting. He got my mother twice and me once in the abdomen. We both collapsed onto the ground seemingly lifeless, I wish that had been the case. I woke beside the carcass of my mother beside me in the garden. Abe was a small distance away digging two holes, which were clearly our graves. I was shocked by my moms lifeless body but knew I had to push through in order to live. I saw Abe’s gun a few feet away from him lying there. I crept slowly toward it and luckily obtained it.

I pointed the gun at his head, and that was right when he turned only to see me holding a firearm directly at him.

“Ernest put the gun down…..”

Mid sentence I fired the gun multiple times and heard the shots echo off of the walls.

Part Six:
I went black for a second and the next cognoscente state I reached was somewhere unexpected. I was sitting in a jail cell cuffed to a wall with two officers watching over me.

“Okay, you are finally awake. You have the right to an attorney if you would like one and have the right to one phone call to family or relatives.”

I sat in confusion.

“My mom, I want to call my mom.”

I said sporadically. They just stood conjugating a response.

“Kid your moms dead. You shot her.”

An officer replied grimly.

“If you are not aware I can hand you your case files.”

The officer said assuringly. I nodded, and he removed my shackles to hand me the file. The document read,

’Suspect: Ernest Mellone
Report: An officer came to a household do to a call to the emergency line only to find a young boy about twelve to fourteen covered in blood holding a fire arm in his hand. There was an unidentified corpse below him assumed to be his only living mate his mother. The officer attempted to reason with the kid but he shot repeatedly, horribly wounding one officer. Then after another cruiser came after a call for back-up they found the child unresponsive and in a troubled state.’

I dropped the file onto the floor unable to understand what had just happened. That was my last day as a free man and will likely forever be. Now I reside only in a penitentiary where I am left secluded and frightened, like I had been before we moved to ‘The Manor.’


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