Little Black Book

A little Black Book.

It all started with a dare, three nights ago. A dare to spend the night in the Old Cranborne Manor. It still stood tall yet decrepit after 40 years of abandon. Lady Cranborne was the name all children grew up whispering about, the town ghost story if you will. Though the tale always varied, Timmy said she was like the wench from Hansel and Gretel eating children for dinner. Johnny always claimed she bathed in the blood of the youth. Charlie said she kept children in the basement to serve her needs, cleaning, making her clothes.

However it was long since we were all children and seventeen year old me didn't believe in ghost stories. She was an old crone that kept herself isolated in her Manor and nothing more. Being such, when the dare was presented I was only one of two that volunteered for the night. I can recall the feeling of my heart fluttering in my chest like a bird caught in a cage. As the only girl in my group I learned not to show any fear in front of the guys.

Charlie and I took the four creaking steps up to the manor's porch and glanced briefly at each other. All the windows and the front door were boarded up tight. My shoes crunched on broken glass as I made my way around the side, seeing if any of the boards were loose. I could feel my palms growing clammy as I tried to wipe them on my jeans.

"Over here!" Charlie yelled from the other side of the manor.

I jogged lightly over to meet him. The moonlight caught wisps of his copper hair. He was trying to yank the board off of a side door and I grabbed the other side prying it away from the structure. With a groan it came off almost taking me with it as I stumbled back.

"You ok Aly?" Charlie chuckled as he grabbed my hand to steady me.

I brushed off his assistance, "Yeah of course I am. Are you going to chicken out on me?" My tone came out more mocking than I meant.

"Never." He winked and kissed the air towards me as he rattled the doorknob, "Shit, it is locked."

"Of course it is dummy. This place has been abandoned for years." I shoved him aside, "Now watch out I saw this in a movie."

He stepped back, I took a breath and kicked the door. To both our surprise it flew open. I grinned wildly his way and marched into the darkness. Inside the building was cold enough I could see my breath, I quickly wrapped my arms around myself, tugging my jacket to me. Charlie turned on the flashlight on his phone igniting the shadows so we could see. He saw me shivering and offered his jacket which I took gratefully.

"Thank you," I chittered as I tugged it on.

"No problem," he chuckled "Do you think we will see the ghost of Lady Cranborne tonight?"

"You know I don't believe those stories you guys always told me."

He couldn't see me rolling my eyes as I reached in my pocket for my own phone. With both flashlights it lit the place up pretty well for at least five feet in front of us. Of course now I could see the two inches of dust that covered every surface. Cobwebs hung low from the ceiling, with nothing to disturb them for years, they grew thick. All the furniture was covered in cloths to protect them.

My heart ached for the place even as the creepiness of it all settled on me. This was once a beautiful Victorian style manor, a home to generations of family. All to go to waste after Lady Cranborne passed. Though from the stories told by the older townsfolk, this Manor held no warmth when she lived in it either. The manor had a presence of it's own as it groaned and creaked against the elements outside. Our puffs of breath the only life it has seen in almost a century.

The floorboards creaked loudly, echoing through the walls and I turned to see Charlie leaving through an archway.

"What are you doing?!" I hissed feeling a surge of panic at being left alone.

"I am checking out this place. Since we are going to be here for a while might as well." His voice faded as he walked away. "Go look through the other side."

Little did I know that would be the last time I would see Charlie.

I went off the room to my right, it looked to be at once a grand dining hall. The centerpiece being a table that could hold thirty maybe forty people. If I wasn't keeping my mouth firmly shut to avoid more dust inhalation it would have been dropped to the ground. I have never seen such a dining hall but in movies.

I moved to the next room, an actual library. Bookcases that stretched to the ceiling and across the expanse of the room. It even had a ladder on a rail to get to the top shelves. This was the room of my dreams, I had always longed for a fairytale library. Every book in its pristine position, even covered in dust as it may be.

"Someone had a wild case of OCD." I murmured to myself as my fingers trailed the leather bindings. That is but one book. A little black book, midway across the room was shoved on top of the other books, wedged. To the typical eye one might not have noticed. I pried it out of the shelf, Gold lettering across the front of it Moleskine.

"What a strange name." I thought out loud. I turned it over and there was a little lock on it. Trying as I might, I could not open it. I was determined that I would get it open later and shoved it into my inner jacket pocket. Moments later I heard a scream, Charlies scream. I dashed to the other side of the manor, calling his name out as I went.

Not another sound, not even a groan or creak from the building itself. I ran through every room. Charlie was no where to be found. The cops were called, they did a thorough search of the building and they found nothing. Not even dust we may have disturbed with our footsteps. They sent me home with a stern warning not to waste their time. They thought it all was a prank.

That was three days ago. Charlies parents filed a missing child report and our group never spoke of it again. As if it never happened. I may have believed them if not for that book. I dug it out of my jacket once I was secure in my room. My fingers traced the gold lettering.

"Moleskine," I whispered as I turned the book on its side inspecting the lock.

I plucked a bobby pin from the container and went to work picking the lock. Charlie taught me how to do this last summer. After working at it for fifteen stress inducing minutes I heard the spring click and the lock opened. I took a deep breath and opened the book. Inside was family history of the first Moleskine later to become the Cranbornes once they fled to America. It spoke of their estate, the generational wealth. Which Lady Cranborne had slowly dwindled over the years. Lastly a letter from Lady Cranborne herself.

To Whomever finds this Book,

The ghosts of my past haunt me, my loneliness lead to my descent into madness. I bared no children nor did I marry. The last of the Cranborne bloodline dies with me. Even now I write this on my death bed. My one hope is someone finds this book amongst my shelves so I have not died in vein. Tucked away within it's pages is twenty thousand dollars. Follow my directions to find the last remainders of my inheritance along with the title to my Manor. Take care of it, the stories it holds within it's walls needs written down, so as not to release it's terror into the world. Heed my warning, it is your responsibility now.

Sincerely,

Lady Cranborne.

There was no denying the chill that prickled gooseflesh all over my body. Even as I turned the last page to find a check for $20,000.00, I could feel a sense of foreboding.