The Mask He Wore: Part Two (special preview)

A man moved into our town. This should not have been the news that it was, except for the fact he came with very little notice. He bought the old winemaker’s manor along with its vineyard. The place had been abandoned for years as the previous owners had lost everything during the drought. It would have sold long ago had they not killed themselves inside those walls. The man who moved in did not seem to mind such things.

What alerted us to his arrival was not his entrance into town, in fact that seemed to go unnoticed. No one could recall having seen anyone come through the gates, or up to the manor itself. Instead it was a light in one of the windows. It shone like a star amongst the sky, flickering and glowing brighter the longer it was looked upon. Rumors began spreading as quickly as a fire would. Soon, it was all anyone could talk about.

I heard many ideas and whispers about who could have possibly moved into that old place. Some said it was the ghost of the previous family who reawakened now that the drought had ended. Some said it was drifters who came in and were now squatting on the abandoned property. Many tales came from wagging tongues, yet no one had an answer as to why there was a light in the manor every night.

Several days passed before there was an answer, and it came in the form of a decree looking for staff to fill the manor. It was then we knew someone had moved in and bought the place. His name was written out upon that decree as Edmund Prowd.

“Prowd, isn’t that the name of the family who was there before?” My father asked. “Perhaps it’s a distant relative.”

“Perhaps he’s come to claim his inheritance now that it shows signs of promise and fortune again.” My mother replied with a chipper tone.

“I doubt there is any money there now,” my father scoffed. “There’s too much darkness there. Too much blood on the ground. No one is going to want to buy wine from such a cursed place.”

My mother laughed. “How would you know?”

“You can feel it when you pass by that property, don’t lie to me and tell me that place doesn’t gie you chills.” My father looked up as I came to the table. He went silent as I sat down.

“What is it?” I asked. “Why go quiet now?”

“It isn’t proper for a young lady to hear,” he grumbled.

My mother rolled her eyes. “There maybe blood in the ground at that place, but you tell me ground that hasn’t had blood spilt upon it!”

“The girl!” My father hissed.

“The dead stay dead,” my mother tutted. “There is nothing cursed about that place. Believing in such things is the real curse. The only foul happenings up in that manor are the young folk who sneak up there to fornicate in secret!”

“The girl!” My father shouted.

I believe my mother over my father. For one, I knew she was right when she said the young folk went to the manor. I had gone a few times myself. And while the abandoned manor was creepy, I would not call it cursed.

Despite people like my father and their fear of the manor, there were others who went to Prowd for a position. Although some were going out of sheer curiosity. I had not talked to many who had been to the place, but as always I heard stories through others who had heard tales about it. They said the place was full now, as if Prowd had lived there for years.

I was curious, how could I not be? But I was used to keeping my head down. This place had no effect on me, there was no reason for me to be concerned with it. And yet, the allure of this mysterious man crept into my thoughts. I had known most of the men in this town since I was small, none of them held any intrigue for me. This stranger, with all these rumors surrounding him, was very appealing. I did not know him, nor did I know anything at all about him, so my mind was free to wonder. I could daydream about his complexion, about the feeling of his hands upon me, and the way he spoke to me without being encumbered by reality.