The Secrets of Devenworth

Respirations have stopped. No pulse. Doris Knightly was dead. Abigail studied her mother’s body. She was in the hospice for a long time so there was no reason to call 911. Abigail’s trembling hand dialed the visiting nurse’s hotline and listened for an answer. 

“Hi I just want to leave a message for the nurse, Dianna, her patient just passed away.” Abigail sighed calmly into the receiver. 

“I am sorry for your loss mam. I will notify Dianna and call the funeral home for you.” the receptionist stated. 

Abigail hung up. There was only one more person to call and that was Suzanne, her sister. Abigail rolled her eyes as she dialed the number. This was truly the phone call she had to make. This was the one phone call Mark, her husband picked up the phone. 

“Hi Mark, it’s Abigail. I just called to let you know that Mom died. I am just called the visiting nurse.”

“Here I will get Suzanne.” 

Abigail waited as the phone was passed to her sister. All she could hear were the defining cries of her nieces and nephews who just got home from a soccer game. 

“Hey Abbie,” Suzanne’s voice was exhausted as she picked up the phone. “Mark just told me. That’s horrible. I just got the kids home from soccer and I am tired from work. Can we deal with this in the morning? I know that Mom already pre planned her funeral, but we still have to go to the lawyer about her assets. I have no clients tomorrow if you are free then.”

Abigail’s jaw tightened. Suzanne never had time for mother, and that was why Abigail had dedicated the last five years of her life taking care of her. Now that mother finally passed away Suzanne had everything that Abigail wanted, a career, husband and a family while Abigail had an apartment that she could not afford by herself with a dead woman lying in it. 

“Yeah see you tomorrow.” Abigail said hanging up while slamming her cell phone down on the table as the front door opened and the visiting nurse stepped inside. 

The lawyers office seemed very similar to the setting of the funeral home, overly lavish yet business appropriate. Abigail knew that this was a waste of time even before she arrived. All her Doris and she had been living off of was the scant amount of Doris’s savings and Abigail’s father reduced military pension. They would have gotten all of her father’s pension if they were ever able to prove his death by finding the body. The lawyer sat down at his desk and pulled out a little black book. 

“It looks like there is a lot here to go though. While your Mother didn’t have that many assets, your Father, Charles Knightly did have an estate in the Berkshires. It is call Devenworth and it's estimated at 5 hundred thousand dollars with trust money of 40,000 dollars to keep the place tidy. In the will it states that everything would be split between his two girls so therefore it is possible for you to take 20,000 dollars each and sell the house, splitting the money from the sale of course.” 

Suzanne looked at Abigail, eyes aglow. 

“Abbie, do you know what this means. We could both take our 20,000 dollars and renovate the house, make it modern. Then we sell it for more and make a huge profit.” 

“I really need any money I could get. Should we just see it before we do anything?” Abigail asked. 

“Ok we will take a trip this weekend, just to check it out.” 

Abigail and Suzanne rode in Suzanne’s minivan to the rusted gate of their families estate. 

“Uggg there is no service here!” My kids have a soccer game today and it is important that I at least call. Abbie, I am going to drop you off and drive until I pick something up”. Suzanne ordered as Abigail quickly got out of the minivan as the vehicle quickly sped away down the road.

 Abigail looked at Devonworth. It looked like one of those old Victorian houses with the ginger ham roofs. The paint was coming off the sides and the lawn was one giant weed mess. It was clear that the grounds keeper responsible for the trust was clearly just pocketing the money and leaving the estate as is. Abigail turned the key of lock that was placed on the fence and walked up the overgrown pathway past an old detached garage to the house. She unlocked the door, hesitated and went inside the dark anterior. The house reeked of what Abigail’s brain commonly associated with Mother's old slippers. Abigail quickly ran to the nearest window to open it, but all of them were swollen shut. The house was filled with antique furniture scattered throughout the downstairs living areas. On the first floor there was a kitchen, living room, dining room, study and conservatory. A spiral staircase leads to a hallway with five rooms connected to them. Every bedroom had a color theme and vaulted ceilings with an adjoining bathroom. The strange feeling that Abigail got when she opened the door only intensified as she went up to the bed room and looked at the ceilings. They were stained and high enough that a monster or ghost would easily be able to conceal itself as it’s human prey paid attention to everything at eye level. Don’t think like that Abigail yelled at herself as she picked a room and put down her belongings. 

Abigail went back downstairs towards the study, which had the least amount of furniture in it as she heard the front door open.

“ Suzanne I think that we need more than 40,000 dollars to make this place modern.” Abigail called out. 

“Hello?” A man’s voice called out from the front door. Abigail's skin jumped. Before she could get up she heard is foot steps approach the study. A handsome young man about Abigail's age came into the room. 

“Hey, my name is Marcus I’m the caretaker for this property. I was told by the lawyer that you would be here and I was wondering if you needed any help fixing things up?” 

Abigail looked around the room. “Umm well take your pick. Looks like you haven’t been here for a while.” 

“Well I only had access to 50 dollars a week for the trust fund, so if we had a summer storm it took forever to save up for something like a new roof. But now that you and your sister are here, I hope things go more effectively. Do you want a drink? What brings the family back here?” 

Marcus grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the mantel. 

“Err my Mother died of early onset dementia and diabetes last week and we just inherited the house.” Abigail stated. 

“But this is your Father’s house is it not?” Marcus questioned. 

“Well yeah. My father was in the military so we never saw him often. He would be home some holidays but he spent a lot of time deployed in Afghanistan. When I was young he told my Mother he was going up north with his brother. My father disappeared never to be seen again. His brother, Chick was found in Minnesota. When they asked what happened to his brother he didn’t know. After my father went missing Chuck began drinking and his life kind of spiraled out of control. They say that he knew exactly what happened to my father. But he won’t tell.”

Abigail sipped her whiskey. The weight of the day and her Mother’s death hit her suddenly. She looked at the clock. It was 8pm. 

“I’m tired. I think I am going to call it a day.” Abigail sighed. 

Marcus finished up his glass. 

“Ok but if you need anything just let me know. I will be around.” Marcus tipped his hat as walked back to the front door. Abigail saw him out. Locked the door and walked back up to the bedroom she claimed and laid in bed, looking up at the ceiling. She thought she heard the click of mouse feet above her head. Dear God I hope I don’t stay here long, Abigail thought as she attempted to sleep. Unfortunately that sleep did not come. 

It was nearly midnight when Abigail heard it. A distant shuffling sound that came from down the hallway. It was exactly the same gait that her mother developed during her last stages of dementia. It was coming closer and closer. A chill went though Abigail’s spine. Suddenly Abigail realized that the temperature had dropped in the house and Abigail could see her breath. 

“Mother what are you doing?” There was no response as the shuffling came closer. 

Mother?” Abigail whispered.  She wanted an answer for what she was hearing but at the same time she didn’t want to draw attention to her at the same time. 

The shuffling grew louder until Abigail knew it was right outside the door. Instantly it stopped and the door handle jiggled. 

“Mother?”   Abigail whispered. 

A piercing screech came from the other side of the door and then everything went still. The room began to warm up but Abigail's eyes were peeled open until the morning dawn. 

“Abigail wake up, there is so much to do. Were you screaming last night. I thought it was my children screaming all night but it must have been you,” Suzanne demanded as Abigail opened her eyes. 

“I might have screamed a little bit, I just had a nightmare.” Abigail answered, still groggy . 

“Ok. Sorry it took me so long to get back home. It looks like there is no cell service for miles. Anyway I was looking at the home this morning. I think that we should just sell the furniture and house as is. Updating this house would be too expensive, someone else could do it. We should start by moving all the excess furniture to the garage.” 

Abigail nodded as Suzanne left the room. Abigail swung her feet as she got out of bed and got ready for the day. Once Abigail made her way down stairs immediately feeling exhausted. Moving all this furniture was going to take all day if they were lucky. 

“We don’t have any food. I’m going to go shopping. Is there anything you need?” 

Abigail felt her jaw clench. It was like Suzanne to volunteer for the easy work and leave the real cleaning up for Abigail.

“Sure mouse traps would be great.” Abigail answered as Suzanne left. Abigail  started selecting easy to move chairs and lamps leaving the rest for when Suzanne came back. 

A half an hour later Abigail was looking to take a break. She sat down on a chair in the living room and opened up a cabinet in the study. It was filled with letters and photos from her mother to her father. He must have come here some point in his life. 

“Looks like you have a lot of work here to do.” Marcus stated as he opened up the door. He gave a strange look at Abigail.

“And it looks like you didn’t get any sleep last night.”  Marcus commented. 

“Yeah that is an understatement. Hey I found my father’s stuff in here. Looks like he knew about the place. Did you know anything about him?” 

Marcus shook his head. 

“No, that was before my time as a keeper. But I will say this. This house could play games with you. It knows your past faults and your present wants, and by the looks of it, your haunted by both. What really happened to your mother?” 

“I accidentally gave her too much insulin. She was dying slowly anyways. It was an accident.” Abigail looked into Marcus’s eyes but she couldn’t read them. 

“Just watch yourself ok? You might find something you don’t want to see.” Marcus warned leaving Abigail in the living room. 

 Abigail looked around. She had to finish what she started and leave this place forever. At a more quick pace Abigail began stacking the chairs when she heard Suzanne’s minivan in the driveway. 

“I found the rat traps but where do you think the rats are?” Suzanne asked. 

“I think that I hear them at night above my head,” answered Abigail. 

“So in the attic, the entrance is in my bedroom.” Suzanne answered. 

“I guess so.” 

The entrance to the attic was concealed by doors as if it was large armoire which opened with a puff of dust. A dark spiral staircase lead to hot open room. 

“I’m definitely not going in there.” Suzanne stated. 

Abigail pushed her aside as she grabbed the bag of rat traps and a flashlight as she walked up the stairs. She vowed that this would be the last string that her sister would pull with her. Unlike the rest of the house the attic was empty except for one trunk. Abigail quickly started laying traps as quickly as she could. Turning around she bumped right into Marcus, his attractive pale against the light of her flashlight. 

“How did you get here.”

“The house knows your past faults and your present wants. I’m a representation of a present made from your imagination and this house. I want you to see something that is in the trunk.” 

All Abigail could feel is her heartbeat racing. She stared Marcus and then at the trunk. She knew that she needed to know what was in it but at the same time was dreading it. 

“OPEN IT”. Marcus’s voice was no longer attractive but distorted and deep.

 Abigail broke out in a cold sweat as she shimmied past Marcus and opened the truck. A military uniform and skeleton laid inside. 

“Your father came here with his brother when they inherited the estate. The house haunted them both. He could not manage his past having lived through war atrocities. and hung himself in the attic. In fear that it looked like murder your uncle stuffed your father in this trunk and took off abandoning the house.”

With tear running down her eyes Abigail ran past Marcus, past her sister down in the bedroom. Abigail ran to the 20,000 dollars she had in her bedroom leaving all of her belongings behind. Suzanne caught up to her at her bedroom door. 

“Where you are talking to yourself. You took such a long time. We have so much to do.” Suzanne nagged. 

Abigail rushed past her dodged the furniture on the first floor and grabbed the keys of the minivan. She backed up the minivan all the way to the street smashing the rusted gates behind her. Putting the car in dive Abigail drove. There wasn’t exactly a destination, just as far as 20,000 dollars would get her. Abigail wished the best for Suzanne would have to brave the house and her past. Whatever the outcome was, Abigail would not be a part of it.