The Strange Tale of Windsor House

Submitted into Contest #64 in response to: Set your story in a Gothic manor house.... view prompt

0 comments

Fantasy Fiction Horror

Before my grandmother died, she was sure about two things. One, that her knees would never give out, and two, there was something odd about this place that we call home. She could never seem to put her finger on exactly what it was. The thought of having to live in a manor didn’t sit well with her, as she had read one too many horror stories surrounding them. What can I say though, she was pretty much paranoid about everything. I usually disregarded her random episodes where she would leer out of her bedroom window, into the forest that lied just a few yards away from our house. The final time, however, was undeniably thought provoking. She stood frozen for half an hour straight, unresponsive to the sound of my voice. I could see the baffled expression on her face. My grandmother had seen something that sparked fear. Had I not known any better, I would have thought she had lost her mind. She did strange things all the time, but that event felt more chilling than odd. She left this world warning me to never go into the forest. She never once told me what she saw that day, but I made a promise to her that I must keep.

A few months had passed and the winter season had finally arrived in this little old town of Tollinwood. The air was unfriendly as it usually was in December, yet the blissful laughter of children could be heard faintly from a distance. Snowflakes ever so slightly dressed rooftops and branches on its journey to the ground, leaving everything white. The town is always more beautiful in the winter yet somehow, this house seemed to overshadow the beauty of the holidays. I heard what sounded like wood being split, when the sudden sound of a whistling teapot abruptly caught my attention. I groaned before getting up out of my bed. Sluggishly, I drew open the vintage curtains in my room, revealing large spider webs and old dust. It had been the first time I had seen daylight fill my bedroom since our move here. I then began to make my way to the kitchen, when my mother suddenly called out to me from the living room.

“Lisa honey, can you get that for me please?!” she shouted.

“Coming Mom!”, I replied, while simultaneously yawning.

My mother was always an early bird. She would be up by the break of dawn reading a book or simply making herself a cup of tea. It brought me joy to see her smile so much, regardless of all we have been through. My father died about two years ago right before he was about to inherit a Manor that had been passed down in the family for generations. After his death, our family hit rock bottom. My father’s cousins, The Chesters, decided to offer our family the house as a form of sympathy. My mother accepted and so we packed up and moved to Tollinwood, England a few months later. As we pulled in the driveway of the two story house, my jaw fell wide open. It was huge! Our cousins announced it as “Windsor House Manor” and my eyes immediately began to scan the premises. I’ve never lived in a house so antique looking before. However, the interior was rather strange, gothic inspired maybe. It was dim and gloomy, had weird decorations hanging around, and carried a putrid smell that was almost nauseating. It was the kind of place vampires would live in on television shows. A sudden unsettling feeling was sent down my spine but I disregarded it for the sake of my mother and made the best of our new home, Windsor House Manor.

A year later and still, that feeling lingers. With such a large space, this house leaves a lot of room for my mind to play tricks on me. Last night, the moon was so fluorescent, that it shined through the cracks of my old curtains. I wanted to take a look outside, but an unwavering sense of uncertainty advised me not to.

It was about 10 a.m. when my mother had just gotten done with her meal after having her daily cup of tea. She sat down in front of the television to enjoy the morning programmes as she usually did everyday. Since our move here, my mother seemed to have strangely become less like herself. She was becoming less active, she sate less and slowly began to weaken. Overtime, she only appeared to be getting worst but no doctor could seem to pin point the reason behind her illness. It’s as if this house was wearing her body down somehow. We were running in circles. I then proceeded to draw open the living room curtains, revealing the snow filled windows, making it difficult to see out of. I used my palm to remove some of the fog and the final wipe revealed through the dewy window, a white forest. The same forest my grandmother always gazed at through her bedroom window. It’s always there, yet I still get chills each time I see it. I can’t pretend that the question doesn’t burn through me like a wildfire though. 

“What could my grandmother have possibly seen in the forest that day that made her forbid me from entering?”

Although she warned me to stay away, a part of me longs to know what lies beyond those trees. I’ve always been the kind of person that was drawn to the ‘unknown’, and my grandmother knew that very well. As a kid, I had quite the imagination according to my mother. As she would tell me, I would sit in my room and converse with two of my ‘imaginary friends’. Normally kids would have just one, but I guess I was no normal kid. There were paintings of weird creatures plastered up on my bedroom walls. One in which occurred about three times, if I can recall correctly. It gave both my mother and grandmother chills because apparently it seemed so real. Ultimately, in their eyes, I was just a kid with a wild imagination. I snapped out of my daydream and kissed my mother on the forehead before heading back up to my room. It’s been a while since I took a stroll in this town, so I decided to go for a walk just to take my mind off things for a while.

“Hey mom, I’m going to head out for a bit” I said to my mother “and I’m also using your coat because its warmer than mine”, I finished.

“No problem honey, just be careful”, she replied with a bright smile.

I returned the smile and opened the creaking wooden door. Five inches of snow greeted my boots at the foot of the doorstep. With no specific destination in mind, I let my feet lead the way while my body trailed behind. I took the path away from the forest as I occasionally looked back at it. I was no more than a mile into my journey, when I came across a group of town folks arguing. I meant to ignore it until the mention of the words: 'Windsor Forest', brought my feet to a halt. 

“Windsor Forest?”, I repeated to myself. 

Nervously, I interfered, “Excuse me, but may I ask what the chatter is all about?” 

A red headed girl replied with a smirk, “They’re debating on whether or not the legend behind Windsor Forest is real”

“Oh, it’s real, and the soul of the creature that lives inside of it is tied to the house that your family lives in,'' said an old man with widened eyes.

The fact that they knew where I lived was the least of my concern. I just found out im living on sinister grounds. I stood there with a puzzled look on my face. Silent and still. I had to find out the story behind this. I need to know what’s in there. 

Without wasting another second, I finally replied, “Please, tell me more about it” 

The red headed girl, who later introduced herself as Hanna, welcomed me to join in on the conversation. Apparently, Tollinwood is known to be the town of many tales. Some are gruesome and others are just flat out chilling. Stories like ‘The Tale of the 8 Feet Man’ had been going around for ages. Folks believed that a large entity roamed the town at night, taking young children from their homes, never to be seen again. That surely stirred up some fright for the townspeople. However, according to folks, “The Legend of Windsor House” was the most feared. Very few people believed that there was truth to the tale, while most just used it as a campfire story to frighten children. As the saying goes: 

"During the winter season, when every eye is shut, a man will enter Windsor Forest all alone. He will chant three times: “Reveal to me the White Elf” and upon the final chant only, will it heed the call and grant you a wish."

It’s said that no one that has ever went in, made it out. This sparked up an indescribable fear, yet curiosity inside me that I didn’t understand. Folks say the Windsor House elf is said to stand about 6 feet tall, stiff as a board, and has a deadly stare. It’s skin is compared to snow how white it appears. It’s jet-black hair is pulled back just enough to reveal the sharp form of its ears. A silk white garment dresses it’s body, leaving only its arms exposed. Its face is completely blank, without expression. Its eyes, however, seem to give the creature its distinctive look. They are abnormally huge with a purple glassy color that fills the iris. A sudden wave of nostalgia came upon me as I remembered shards of memories from that day in my room as a kid. There was one specific image that I painted that stood out amongst everything else. About three times it was drawn and in each portrait, I could remember it somehow feeling closer and closer to me. I couldn’t believe that I painted the exact creature that was described in some ancient legend. 

“Oh my God”, I whispered to myself, as my eyes widened.

“That’s it…. that’s what my grandmother saw out her window that day” I finished.

This entire time she had seen the creature that I drew standing before her. Alive. Real. I paused at that thought and suddenly the conversation became too overwhelming. Only then did I realize how late it had gotten, so I sped off disappearing into the horizon making my way home. Shortly after I arrived, I noticed that my mother looked a bit pale in the skin. After we got done with dinner, I prayed with her as I do every night. For her health, our family, school and for our town. I cleaned the kitchen and headed up to my room. As I lay down in bed, I couldn’t help but think about my conversation with the townspeople. Although I should refrain from going into the forest, something keeps drawing me near. It’s as if it’s calling out to me. I concluded that curiosity will destroy me before this house does, so I listened to my conscience. Quietly I creeped out of my bed and grabbed my coat again, along with a battery powered flashlight. I snuck past my mother’s room on creaking wood and opened the front door leading into the cold winter night. I nervously walked over to the pitch-black forest, with my flashlight beaming ahead of me. I stopped just far enough in to expose the entrance from whence I came. I paused for a moment and scanned my surroundings. There was nothing in there but tall trees and snow. I slowly began to recall the chant and after a few wrong tries, I finally remembered:

In a low voice I said, “Reveal to me the White Elf

Nervously I continued, “Reveal to me the White Elf

The final time I hesitantly repeated the words, “…. Reveal to me…the White Elf

A low eerie tune began to fill the air. Moments later, something heavy fell to the ground before me, which I finally made out to be non-human. The White Elf…It’s real. I stood there frozen in fear to see a 6 foot creature gazing above my head. It looked much more terrifying than I can recall. To my surprise, it was holding out a book that read “ONE WISH". I worked up the courage to ask a question; 

“What does that mean?”, I asked in an obviously frightened tone.

The Elf’s head jerked down, fixing its enlarged eyes on me. I refrained from looking into them to avoid any hypnotic trance it may have been trying to put me in. I jumped at the sound of the Elf’s ominous glitching voice;

“For calling unto my name, and setting me free, I will grant you one wish and one wish only. Refuse, request to trade, or reverse your wish, and the consequences will be grave”, said the mythical creature in a serious tone.

If this is real, that meant I had the power to make my mother well again. I didn’t wasn’t another second;

“I wish my mother was healed and like herself again, she might be dying!”, I cried out to the Elf.

“In order to save a life, you must give one. To save her, you must bring me a human life in return.” The elf replied. 

There was a moment of dead silence. I didn’t know what to do. I needed to see my mother alive and well again, but I couldn’t possibly sacrifice an innocent person’s life for that price. 

“Give me until morning to make a decision”, I begged the Elf.  

With a slight nod, I was given another chance before it disappeared into the snow. I ran back inside and went straight to my bed. I must sleep on a decision of that nature in order to make the right choice. Sigh.

Slowly, night turned to morning, and I could hear ruckus coming from the kitchen. I rubbed my eyes, thinking of the encounter from last night, when I heard a loud crashing sound. I pitched up from out of my bed to race into the area. I was at a loss for words to see my mother sprawled out on the floor unresponsive with pans surrounding her. I quickly crouched down to cradle her, while crying out her name.

“MOM! MOM!!! WAKE UP MOM!”, I shouted as I shook her in effort to regain her consciousness. 

No response. I ran to get my phone and call for help. I prayed over my mother as I waited and within a matter of 5 minutes, help arrived. The paramedics were able to resuscitate her, and she opened her eyes again. I gave a big sigh of relief while thanking them. My mother was given medication, informed that she needed to rest more and drink lots of water but again, nothing seemed to be wrong. I put my mother to lay in her bed and wrapped my arms around her as I thanked God for her life. LIFE. At that moment, it was clear. I knew what I had to do. I squeezed my mother tight with tears running down my cheeks.

“I love you Mom, so very much”, I said in a low cracking voice. “You know I would do anything to save you if I could” I finished.

My mother smiled before replying, “I know that you would. I love you so much”

I gazed at her for the final time and kissed her forehead before leaving the room. I grabbed a pen and paper and wrote a letter for my mother, leaving it on her rocking chair. 

Hastily, I put on my coat and boots and ran for the forest. I cried out for the elf to come out. Nothing.  

I continued to yell and cry out, “I choose me! Take me please!!! Just promise me that my mother will be okay once I go. I need to know she’ll be okay!”

I paused before chanting three times, “Reveal to me the White Elf”

Upon the third call, it appeared as it did last night. I repeated my final decision and begged for assurance that my mother would be okay. 

“As you wish”, the Elf finally replied. 

It stretched out its arms, exposing a globe-like-light that revealed to me my mother crawling out of bed. Her face was lit up, her body was filled with life again and she looked overall her normal self again. My mother was well. I cried tears of joy that quickly turned to pain as I watched her pick up my note from her rocking chair. She cried tears of confusion. The glowing light gradually went out from the Elf’s arms and that was the last time I saw my mother.  

“I’m ready”, I said in a saddened voice. 

The Elf wrapped its body around me withdrawing me from this world and just like that, I was gone. A Life for a Life.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Dear Mother,

I know you are lost, confused, scared and wondering where your baby girl is. That’s why I’m writing this letter to tell you that it’s okay to be frightened. Don’t search for me because you won’t find me, no one can. I needed to make sure that you would be okay, that’s all that ever mattered to me. I can’t explain what happened because it will all sound too crazy. Windsor House holds a far more sinister existence than you think. Don’t you ever blame yourself, for this decision was my own. All I ask, is that you NEVER go into the forest. I love you mom!

-xoxo, Lisa

October 23, 2020 07:08

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

Reedsy | Default — Editors with Marker | 2024-05

Bring your publishing dreams to life

The world's best editors, designers, and marketers are on Reedsy. Come meet them.