Fantasy The Mysterious Murder of a Young Lord {Closed}

[Reid]

Alaric Endmore's tragic end was still an enigma to all in the estate. A charming, well mannered, if eccentric young man with eyes of soft baby blues with not an enemy in the world, murdered.... It was pretty tragic. Murdered, was the word used by the police because the wound across his neck was something horrifically savage and quite obviously done by human hands. But who could have done such a thing was the topic of discussion for those two weeks after the event.

The Great Hall was, of course, scrubbed and bleached where the body had been. It's now gone into a state of disuse after a bizarre incident in which the pages of the Cook's recipe book ended up being used to spell the word help. No one wished to enter the place. Some more religious individuals declared it cursed, as the authorities were sure the murder itself had happened there.

The estate itself, once a peaceful and quite place, soon became eerie and discomforting. Even for servants who had been serving the Endmore family for generations. Some even scrapped enough to leave the place, as it was empty of its master and their services no longer needed. A skeleton group of them remained to take care of the officers still attempting to investigate and as a result, many of the lavish rooms also went into disuse.

Who killed Alaric Terrance Endmore was on the lips of the whole town. No one was sure what or who could have done such a thing and answers were scarce. On the contrary. More questions piled up one on top of the other as the body was examined. He was wearing a velvet robe no servant had ever seen on him before, or seen in his wardrobe. And a strange carving was etched into the calf of his left foot. Again, highly unexplained.

Days passed, and the uneasy feeling amongst everyone taking up residence in the estate escalated when items started to go missing, mirrors would fog up. Alaric's rooms, which were not used anymore appeared to look like someone was still living there. The sheets on the bed were unmade and seemingly slept in each night, then when a servant would go to straighten them, they would unmake themselves. Some even reported the wardrobe opening by itself and clothes floating out of it, then dropping to the floor. Or Alaric's personal bathing chamber sometimes felt humid and the tub moist, as if recently used.

After five days of these strange occurances, one night, someone has the bright idea that it had to be the spirit of Lord Endmore himself. Trapped inside the estate, even though his body had been moved to the town morgue and proposed some sort of ritual to contact the ghost. Others hesitated at this explanation, wondering if the young man's murderer was still somewhere in the estate.....

 

[Kabochamp]

Mary Burne Had been in a state of shock for the whole five days since the discovery of Lord Alaric Endmore's body in the Great Hall. She had been working as a maid in his estate for a year and a half already and her time working there had been some of the best times of her life so far.

She knew that there had to be many others who had lived lives filled with more pain and suffering than she had known but that was little condolence to her when she lost her parents at a young age and had to work the same dangerous job to support herself and her younger sister. It was even less of a consolation when her sister took ill and months of non stop hard work hadn't been enough to save her. Just as she hit rock bottom, Lord Endmore had accepted her application to work at his estate and had even assisted her in giving the girl a proper, albeit simple, funeral and allowed her plenty of days to visit her sisters grave thereafter.

When she first heard the news of his death it didn't feel real, especially when everything just seemed to carry on as normal. She still carried out most of her duties around the estate: delivering food, cleaning up the common rooms and occasionally coordinating the work for the other staff. However, she was no longer required to bring food to the young noble or tidy away his messes when he left them unatended and the spaces those tasks left in her day tore at her heart.

The incident with the recipe book was the first thing to snap her back to her senses as the sheer peculiarity of the event was unlike anything she had heard of before. She wanted to go straight to The Great Hall and see the message but the officers working on the case insisted that no one 'disturb' the scene. Stories and worries of hauntings worked their way through the staff that had remained but she didn't want to hear them. Lord Endmore had already been taken from the living much too soon, she didn't want to think of how hard it would be for him to trapped endlessly, unable to move on and find peace.

It finally came to be that another staff member had mentioned the theory to an officer and discussed an atempt to contact him to see what was keeping him here, or even how he was killed. Mary was ultimately against the idea but she couldn't deny the strange occurrences that had been taking place when just that morning she had fixed the Lord's disheveled wardrobe even though no one admitted to entering the room.

If there was going to he a ritual to contact whatever being was causing these events, Mary was determined to be involved. She didn't want to believe that it was her deceased employer that was behind the strange events happening all over the estate but there did seem to be something unnatural happening and maybe whatever it was could lead her to the one responsible for the murder.

 

[Reid]

"This is ridiculous."

That was the first thing that came out of the mouth of one officer, Neil mumbled to himself. A rather obese man this Neil was. A long bushy moustache hid most of his lips from view and his normally kind, wide eyes were narrowed as they stared at the circle of candles nearby.

These candles were different than the ones used to put in the scones to light up a room. These candles were thick. Thick as Neil's paw of a hand and black as the rest of the room. A few of the other servants attended, sitting around the other side of the circle of candles. It was a small number of them, of course. The rest refused to so much as step into the former bed chamber of Alaric. Neil glanced around warily. It didn't help that the groundskeeper, an old crone by the name of Marilyn insisted on only having these candles lighted. It was dark except for the flame dancing and creating eerie shadows.

The woman was now having her arms out in front of her, eyes closed as she spoke to the air. Something about wishing to contact the spirit of the late Lord Endmore, hell if he knew.

She opened up her eyes, looking around. Nothing happened for several seconds. Those several seconds were enough for Neil to start to pull himself up until the crone hissed at him to sit. She continued to talk, asking if there was anyone there. Nothing happened.

"See? This is--"

The flames sputtered, jumping higher then flickering out completely, leaving them all in complete darkness. Someone squealed and it wasn't until a minute later that Neil released that horrifically unmanly screech came out of him. Despite his fear, he cleared his throat.

He saw the outline of Marilyn attempting to relight the candles but the lighter just wouldn't work. She let out a cry, dropping the lighter.

"Who... What..?" Her voice was different, deeper, like the voice of a man. Marilyn straightened up, squaring her shoulders, "What is going on here?" Even her demeanor was... Odd. Regal, one could describe it. With a touch of youth, which was odd to see in the face of an old woman.

Neil, still disbelieving someonwhat, muttered, "Lord... Lord Endmore?"

He squinted in the inky black darkness to see the elderly lady turn her head, "You are speaking to he. May I ask what is going on?" She approached everyone, turning in a circle.

 

[Kabochamp]

Mary had entered the sleeping quarters as she would have usually, being one of the few staff members who was still willing to enter and maintain the room now that their employer was gone. While sitting with the other staff that had turned up she watched the larger officer complain with a sour expression. He didn't have to be here she thought as he dismissed the whole notion of a haunting loudly he’s not the one who has to keep clearing up the strange mess left in this room either.

The ambiance created by the circle of black candles and the tension in the room were increasing the young maids nerves enough to make her irritable, especially as so few of the remaining staff had shown up. She had questioned Marilyn earlier that day about the decision to use the creepy looking candles but the groundskeeper had insisted, saying that they would be unable to contact their late lord without them. It had been clear from the tone used that it wasn’t something that could be compromised on so Mary had given up, even as her gut writhed with worry.

After resigning herself to taking part in the séance she had asked the head chef, Ben to come with her since she still believed the strange events going on around the estate to be caused by something more sinister than the spirit of Lord Endmore and she had wanted one of the people she felt most comfortable with to be there with her. However, Ben had eventually turned her down, saying he felt that it would be wrong for him to enter the bedchamber.

She had lost herself in these thoughts when the room suddenly went dark in the absence of light from the candles and even though her first instinct was to run, fear kept her in place as she waited for what would happen next: until she heard Marilyn cry out. She had jumped to her feet instantly and was starting to walk over when the sound of the strange voice coming from the outline of the groundskeeper hit her like a bucket of freezing water, stopping her in her tracks. “Lord… Endmore” she breathed just seconds after Neil had, still not quite believing it.

Not even thinking before she began to speak, Mary’s voice leaked out of her as she stared at Marilyn’s form with fear clear on her face “we wanted to speak with you” she said, her voice even and slow not because she was calm but due to her shock and disbelief. “We” her voice caught but she carried on “needed to know how you-” she had to stop again and looked down, speaking softer “how you died” she said, fighting back the tears that were forming at the corner of her eyes.

 

[Reid]

Marilyn's face changed, pinched into one of confusion but it was clear that this was not her doing.
"Dead?" The spirit's tone was clipped, "That is... That is preposterous..." He glanced around, from the shocked face of Neil, then to the servant who had spoken. A girl. What was her name...?

Clapping a hand to his forehead (or, rather, Marilyn's wrinkled forehead) Alaric groaned. Details shifted and swam before his eyes and he could not quite remember much of what had occured in the past few days. Rather than attempting to rack his brain for the girl's name ---a fact that embarassed him, as he always madde a point to address everyone of his household by name--- the lord instead bent down to retreive the lighter, flicking it open and holding it to the candles with ease.

Now with light bathing the room, he was able to see. It was odd to him that his vision seemed more horrid than he remembered. It was not until Alaric caught sight of his reflection in a long, thin propped up mirror he always kept in his room that he finally realized why.

Staring back at him was the form of an old woman. Marilyn. Alaric's eyes widened to comedic proportions. Fear... Shock... Any of such synonyms could be used to describe the look painted on that face.

 

[Kabochamp]

She could see that the spirit was having trouble adjusting to the situation as he looked around the room in confusion and she took another step forward, not sure how she could help but the other people in attendance seemed to be too shocked to put themselves forward just yet. "S-Sir, have you been-" she felt bad for asking since it might be painful for him to think about but she thought that maybe she could help ground him in the moment a little "have you been here all this time? This must be really hard for you but we need to know, please can you help us?" she asked, watching his face carefully as she worried that it might be too much for him.

She turned to the others to give him some time to think but she wasn't really sure what needed to be done now, this had been Marilyn's idea and she hadn't left them with instructions on the process. "Could someone bring a chair for him? and maybe a cloth to cool his head?" she asked eventually, directing the question to the other staff of the estate, hoping to kick start them into any kind of action.

Next she then turned to the officers in the room "did you have any specific questions you wanted to ask of Lord Endmore? You were prepared just in case this worked, right?" she said provocatively, though she kept her tone even but firm, only able to keep her composure through action at this point.

 

[Reid]

Alaric slowly turned, eyes still glued to the mirror. He turned the body of Marilyn around much like how he's seen those dolls in the local toyshop would. Mechanical, the owner had said when he asked. Powered by tiny pistons inside the neck that shiftd when you pressed the button on the doll's porcelain hand. Swallowing, he watched in silence as the servants were spurred into action, one of them sliding a chair from his dresser toward him.

He slumped down, trying not to look at the figure of Marilyn in the mirror. Alaric felt the coolness of a moist cloth swiping his forehead, "Thank you." He murmured to the man above him.

Neil seemed to suddenly animate, as if he was a puppet attached to invisible strings that had been pulled. Clearing his throat, the policeman began, "Ah, yes. Well, Lord Endmore, now that we have you here, we wanted to inquire about your death---"

"Death? I--- I apologize, my goodman, but I haven't the faintest idea...." Alaric stammered, trailing off.

Dead.

That word again. Dead. How else could he explain why he was currently in the body of an older woman? He knew who she was, obviously. Old Marilyn seemed to have always been in his household. Alaric shifted his gaze toward the girl... Mary (yes, he remembered now!) with an expression of pure fear before turning back to Neil, "I... I cannot... Remember." He winced.

 

[Kabochamp]

After thanking the people who came forward to help she waited to see how Alaric responded to Neil's question, both nervous and hopeful.

She frowned as she watched the spirit having trouble with his new situation, the revelation that his memories were incomplete came as an extra shock to her so Mary knelt down next to him and spoke in a gentle voice "I'm sorry about this sir, um, I can't even begin to imagine how you must feel right now" she said, watching him carefully.

Biting her lip she looked to the officers again "sorry, I know I just asked for your questions but could you give him a moment?" She asked with a strained smile "I don't think it's a good idea to overload him right now"

Turning back to Alaric "Sir, what's the last thing you can remember? It's okay if you're having trouble, just try to take a deep breath and stay calm" she said, offering him a small sad smile.

 

[Reid]

Neil was a bit annoyed, that was clear from the look on his face, but he merely gave Mary a short, rude grunt before backing off, moving closer to the bed and sitting in it.

Alaric, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel sheepish. And it was very odd seeing such an expression on the face of the otherwise stubborn old crone. Shifting awkwardly in his seat, the young Lord made an effort to attempt to remember something... anything.
"I..." For several seconds he remained silent. A face swam at the edge of his vision, morphed into a snarl.

How can you? You know that this is what you were born for.

The voice was deep and gutteral, Alaric remembered that. With the flavor of misty Northern roots, something cold and foreign to his ears. Scrunching up his face, he moved his head to the side, only for the teasing vision to fade, evading him entirely.

"A... Man." Alaric whispered, as if the mere idea of saying it even louder was an unspeakable act for him. Because, in a way, it was. Alaric Endmore was not entirely in the right state of mind.

Dead.

What a foreign concept. His hands trembled on Marilyn's lap, "Spoke English with a heavy accent. Something Scandinavian, I think?" That was the best way he could describe it. Linguistics was not one of his strong suits.

He wanted to scream like a child that didn't get his way. How unfair. Only twenty three. Dead. That word refused to escape his mind.

The overwhelming sense of fear rose up in him of the thought of this man whose likeness danced at the edge of consciousness. Fear... Fear of what? Alaric did not know.

 

[Kabochamp]

Mary had been hoping that Alaric would be able to remember something mundane about the day of his death or even something from afterwards, of the time after he had passed away. Her eyes widened as she instead received details of the person that seemed to have committed the crime and she looked to see if any of the officers were taking notes. There was no doubt in her mind that the memory of the night would stick with her forever but notes on a page would still be a welcome back up.

As the shock faded, guilt took its place and she looked down. Thoughts of how she and the other staff could have missed someone so clearly out of place swam unhelpfully around her mind as she knelt on the ground. "Thank you, Sir. It's okay, you don't have to force anything, please take your time" she said gently as she looked back up to him, worried that pushing himself too much could somehow cause harm.

She bit her lip and held in the stream of further questions she desperately wanted to ask, telling herself there would be more time and to focus on keeping him calm. The sight of Marilyn's hand trembling weighed on her heavily but her lingering awareness of her station stopped her reaching up to take his hands in her own for comfort.

 

[Reid]

Neil was indeed taking notes. A small pad of paper and a fountain pen in the other hand furiously writing down the description. He was about to ask more from the spirit, oblivious to his suffering when Alaric gasped, the wrinkled hand coming up to clutch his chest. Something seemed to be pulling at him, like a vacuum. The young Lord felt himself being forced out of Marilyn, the sensation akin to a savage yank at the arm.

"What's happening to him?" Neil questioned, startled.

Marilyn's body slumped over and a few seconds later, she sat back up. Her demeanor and mannerisms were once again her own. Blinking in confusion, the old crone rasped, "Something isn't right. That was too sudden."

Alaric stood in front of Marilyn, watching the ordeal, still reeling from the uncomfortable sensation. His form was transparent, still in the clothes he died in. Of course, not that anyone could see this, he was a spirit after all. He waved his hand in front of the housekeeper's face but she looked right through him, unseeing. Disappointment washed over him. He had hoped that with her knowledge of the occult, she might be able to see him but it just didn't work like that. As everyone just continued to talk all at once, Alaric walked through Mary, toward Neil, glancing down at the notepad.

Spirits couldn't hold tangible objects. His hand would just go right through. But...

Squinting, Alaric's transparent hand brushed against the police officer's warm one in concentration. Neil paused in the middle of his sentence,eyes wide. Alaric was aware he couldn't out right see him, but the man could definitely see his own hand scribbling away.

still here.

 

[Kabochamp]

Her relief at seeing Neil taking notes quickly faded into worry as Alaric suddenly clenched at his chest, seemingly in pain. Mary stood quickly as Marilyn's body slumped nerve wrackingly forward "Lord Endmore!" She gasped but before she could reach for his hand, the demeanor of the old housekeeper returned and she took a step back in shock.

Her next sentence caused even more worry "too sudden? Can we not do it again?" She asked, her voice much quieter than before. She didn't even feel him as he walked right through her as her mind was spinning with regrets at how short their time to talk had been.

Just as she was beginning to give up due to her lack of knowledge on the subject of ghosts, her eyes caught Neil's expression as he looked at his own notepad. No longer caring about seeming rude or social constraints, she ran over to him and looked at the writing. Her face broke into a relieved smile as she read and she looked up to Marilyn with hope "he says he's still here!" She said. "What do we do now?" She asked Marilyn, as another thought entered her mind "Ah, Sir! Can you keep relaving messages through officer Neil? And officer, are you okay with that?" She questioned everyone perhaps a little too quickly but she was worried that they'd only have a short while to talk before something happened again.

 

[Reid]

The old crone was still rubbing her chest, coughing softly. Her face turned sour almost immediately after hearing what Mary was implying. Whipping her head around, almost like an owl, Marilyn scoffed, "I'm eighty years old, not twenty. Do you believe it to be easy? Summoning the spirits of the dead? That takes a lot out of a woman, I'll have you know!" She snapped, her voice slightly winded.

She the continued, "It was too sudden. I felt something... Odd. He did not want to go, something or someone took him out of me."

Alaric still stood next to Neil, quiet as a mouse. Marilyn was correct, he had been pulled out of her abruptly and against his will. It worried him. He heard Mary's question, but he didn't answer, hoping the silence would come across as consenting.

Neil shuddered, "Feels wrong. But yes," He cleared his throat, he lifted his head, "Lord Endmore, can you tell us a bit more about this... This man you spoke about?" He waited a beat. Alaric stepped closer, enveloping the officer, sinking into his body, like a coat. Neil cried out, cursing. Then he straightened.

"I cannot. I cannot remember." Alaric stood up, walking around the room,without aim, lost.

Marilyn sucked in a breath, "I feel that perhaps it might be best if we go to the Great Hall---"

 

[Kabochamp]

As the old woman reprimanded her Mary looked down at the floor "I'm sorry, I don't know anything of the process and spoke before thinking" she said, only looking back up quickly at the assertion that something was wrong but took a deep breath before she spoke excitedly again. The whole situation seemed so strange to her but told herself that she could worry about that later.

"Thank you" she said as Neil gave his consent, only jumping a little when he cried out. So he can speak through others now that he's here? she thought to herself as she watched Neil's body being piloted around the room seemingly without purpose.

She was still watching him and nodding along with Marilyn's suggestion when she heard the unnatural stop to her words and warily looked over to her. "Um, Ms Marilyn?" she asked nervously "are you okay?" it seemed like a silly question even as the words tumbled out of her mouth but she couldn't seem to hold them in. She took a step closer nervously so that she could look carefully at the woman before her.