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Realistic or Modern Beechworth Manor

SophiaWilliams677

New Member
Anthony slowly walked to his chair, his eyes sullen and detached. There was no life in it. He picked up a piece of rope.

"After everything I've seen...

He went to the chair and moved it upwards to the centre of the room, then climbed on top of it. He then made the rope into a noose, and wrapped it around the board.

...After all the things I've done...

He fitted his neck through the noose.

...I cannot escape the course my life has taken...

He kicked the chair away.

... Now I am beyond redemption...

I
hope you can forgive me someday..

Yours Sincerely, Anthony Beechworth."
 
October 2nd, 1892

"Videte ne quis sciat."

Angela stared at the letter for a long period of time. She sat herself down in her armchair, right near the blazing fireplace. Her eyes constantly going over that same phrase over and over again, gripping the page tightly and taking deep breaths. She stood up and began to pace herself up and down in her private room, leaning against the wall with her head looking upwards.

It was a letter that had been written to her by her childhood friend, Anthony Beechworth. They'd been friends since they were 9 years old. They grew up together. Attended school together. Did everything together. Now they were grown up and had set different paths. They hadn't spoken in 2 years.

Specifically, they had been part of a very secret philosophical group that discussed very heavy handed things. Their motto was:

"Videte ne quis sciat."

Which meant "See that nobody knows.". She hadn't heard those words in a long, long time. It was all part of being a rebellious teenager, wanting to know more than just what her Catholic parents told her. Jesus, God, the Trinity. It used to bore her.

Staring at the cross hung above her fireplace, she could see why.

As she leaned against the wall, she felt her body tense. This could only mean that something completely horrible and bad happened, and Anthony wanted to keep it in secrecy.

She grabbed her overcoat and opened the door, feeling the cold air bristle over her skin. She let out a long sigh and watched it transform into visible white air that floated into the sky. She looked upwards and felt the light of the world dimming. She felt an immense sense of dread, but she pushed that aside.

There was a certain paper kid, no more than 17, that she knew of. This kid knew their way around the place. Maybe she could get help from them before going to Beechworth Manor.

She made her way to the slums...
 
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