The Enigma Of Quisenberry Manor

“Thank you so much for taking care of Lela, it means the world to us.” Ms. Quisenberry smiled, grabbing her black petticoat from the wooden antique coat rack. “We haven’t had a date night in what feels like years. I just can’t fathom leaving her alone anymore.”

Mr. Quisenberry leaned down so his lips brushed against the skin of my ear, his voice a quiet rumble. “That’s because she’s a paranoid b-“

“Of course, Ms. Quisenberry!” I plastered on a large grin, shooting a glare at his small chuckle. “I am always happy to help.”

“You can call me Penny, honey,” She ruffled my hair. “Keep an eye out for Salem. She seems to get stuck in the most ridiculous spots these days.”

Mr Quisenberry rolled his eyes. “They say black cats are bad luck but I think ours is just stupid.” 

“Don’t say that,” She looked at him sharply, something behind her gaze I couldn’t quite decipher. “Our son might be home in a while, so he can certainly keep you company!” I felt my face flush at her wink.

“She wouldn’t want anything to do with that little nuisance.” Ms. Quisenberry gently whacked his shoulder at that, and I fought to conceal my shock. Oliver had seemed like nothing less of the perfect child. My parents would’ve been thrilled to have him, but I guess all families are different.

“He’s a gentleman, don’t you worry!” She turned the rustic doorknob and the door creaked open, revealing a pale golden sky dusted with stars. “Don’t be afraid to call if you need us for anything!”

“Or if you need us for nothing,” Mr. Quisenberry smirked playfully at me, rolling his eyes at his wife’s glare. I shut the door behind them and peered through their large windows to see their departure. She carefully backed out of their driveway and seemed quite exasperated despite their date night. He didn’t look up from his phone.

I turned around at the gentle thump and creak of hardwood. “Don’t worry about them, dear.” 

“Lela!” I gasped at the sight of her hobbling with her cane. “You need to sit down!”

She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m fine, you all worry too much.”

I grabbed onto her hand to steady her, and she thankfully accepted my help with a bruising grip. “Doctors order, Lela. How about you show me that new puzzle you’ve been working on?”

She laughed as I led her through the dimly lit hallway littered with picture perfect family portraits with rustic golden frames. “I can do my puzzles anytime.” She lowered herself into her rocking chair, and I lit a match to turn on the fireplace. “I’d rather know about what’s going on between you and my grandson.”

“Nothing is going on!” My cheeks burned and I studied the patterns on the hardwood as if it was the Mona Lisa.

“Don’t give me that nonsense,” She said playfully. “You’re a beautiful young woman, any boy would be lucky to have you.”

I finally looked back up to see her warm smile. “Well, he’s really cute.” I sat on the ground and stretched my legs out, allowing the fire to thaw me from the chilly walk. The smoke covered the usual musty scent of the house. “I’m just unsure if he’s the one for me- I mean, his dad always seems to be flirting with me.”

Her head jerked and her stony eyes pierced me. “Do not get affiliated with his father.”

The air in the room shifted and I felt uneasiness creep up my spine. I wanted to ask why but my throat was dry and no sound would come out of my slack jaw.

“Now won’t you be a dear and get me a glass of milk?” 

I nodded, my head still spinning. I stumbled towards the kitchen, taking deep breaths to try and calm my racing heart. I rummaged through the fridge of spectacularly healthy foods in pristine organization, before spotting the almond milk. I began to pour it into a golden chalice from their curio, but only a few drops fell before the carton was empty.

“Lela!” I called, waiting for her affirmative hum. “Where would more almond milk be kept?”

“There’s a container in the garage.” I called back my thanks. “You are such a darling.”

I headed to the garage, the corridor much more ominous without the golden light dusk the setting sun provided. The garage door creaked open, and goosebumps spread across my arms at the sight; it was completely empty other than a small fridge and a door with a large “DO NOT ENTER” sign.

My interest was piqued.

I knew it was a ridiculous idea, so for a moment I headed to the fridge and pulled the almond milk out, before setting it on the ground and turning to the door. I promised myself it’d just be a quick peek. A weird stench was coming out of the room, but I couldn’t identify what it was. My hand trembled on the doorknob, unsure if I was making a mistake. Invasion of privacy was wrong, but curiosity got the best of me.

I slowly turned the doorknob, the creak sending shivers up my spine. I gently nudged the door open, time feeling like years as anticipation built up. The room was pitch dark, but I could make out the faint outline of machinery and shelves. I figured maybe the Quisenberry’s had a weird carpentry hobby or something of that sort. I reached for the light, my fingers still trembling with the nerves of being caught.

I flicked the light on and felt my heart stop.

I tried to scream, but I couldn’t move. 

Eyes bore into me from every corner of the room.

Women, beautiful women. 

Beautiful women who looked like me.

Their heads decorated the shelves like horror knick-knacks. The splotches of blood on their blonde hair was the only evidence of their decapitation. The rest of their faces were just as pristine as the rest of the Quisenberry’s decorations, with perfect smiles mimicking the creepy photos in the hallway. Each head was like a weird trophy, kept together with pride.

I slowly backed up, unable to tear my eyes away from the blank stares. That is, until I ran into something hard, but moving.

“You made a mistake coming down here.”

“Oliver?” My voice caught in my throat, a mere whisper against the deathly silence. I couldn’t bear to turn around, terror keeping me in a chokehold.

“You may not be one of my father’s mistresses, but you’ve seen too much. We must maintain our perfect family.”

My throat tightened at his words. “You’re my friend... and Lela, does she...”

“She knows. She wouldn’t dare speak. Her fall down the stairs was a warning.”

Horror gripped my body. I wanted to scream, cry, run; but I merely stood. 

“We could’ve been something, if you hadn’t been so nosy. But I figured you had a thing for my dad anyway. You’re his type, it would’ve been a matter of time. I will not let some blonde bimbo ruin my parents' marriage.”

I shook my head in terror, my whole body trembling. “I wouldn’t. Please, no.”

“Say goodbye.”

I opened my mouth to scream for help, but a mere gasp came out.

“Good enough.”