The Mansion at Oak Hollow

Grace stood in the floor length mirror in a black, 1920's vintage dress. Her blonde hair was gathered up into a loose all-over stack of curls and pinned to her head. Black, satin gloves covered her slender arms and her feet donned a pair of modest, 2-inch black pumps.

Reaching into her jewelry box, Grace gingerly pulled out her pearl earrings and necklace set and carefully put them on. They had been a gift to her from her great-grandmother, Rose, and were authentically a "Jazz Age" fashion piece. As she gazed at her reflection, she decided to finish the look with a dark red lip. Satisfied, she let out a long breathe and walked to the door.

On the console table lay her black, beaded clutch, a black, leather bound notebook and an open envelope. She picked up all 3 items, lingering on the envelope. "I can't believe I'm doing this. This isn't like me" she thought. And it wasn't like her. She never did anything spontaneous and definitely wouldn't normally do anything like this- something mysterious, dangerous, even. For the hundredth time, Grace almost decided to back out. But then, just as her nerves threatened to take over, she looked out of the window to see a black limo pull up. A man in a black top hat exited the limo and stood by the back door of the car, waiting for her. Gathering the items and her courage, Grace left her house and climbed into the limo.

The invitation and notebook had arrived together in a simple wooden box left on her door step 24 hours ago. Empty of stamps and address, someone had dropped them off personally. Grace examined both now as she rode towards her destination.

The invitation had been sealed with red wax. Calligraphy lettering on the outside simply said "Ms. Grace McCarthy". Once she broke the seal, the inside read:

Join us tomorrow for the reading of the will of Mr. Jack Hill. Black Tie, Vintage attire. 7:30 p.m. sharp. A limo will be provided as transportation.

Grace wouldn't have gone had it not been for the black book. Covered in a soft, supple leather, the notebook, his notebook, had one line written inside: “Deep in earth my love is lying, And I must weep alone.” It was a line from her favorite author, Edgar Allan Poe, and written in the handwriting of her late Fiancee, Jack Hill. She knew it was likely treacherous, but she had to see this through.

Jack had been born into a great line of wealth, stemming back to the early 1800s railroad business. He never told Grace much about his family, claiming they were sad and boring. After they had become engaged, Grace had become more and more curious about this family she was joining into, but Jack would never share more. Finally, he ended the discussion by stating "Grace, they're dangerous. That's all I can tell you."

A week later, while on a bachelor's fishing trip in the Pacific, Jack fell overboard during a storm. His friends were devastated and Grace was left heartbroken and emotionally destroyed. A year after the trip, with out a body found, the police finally declared Jack legally dead. Mourning her loss everyday for the past year, Grace had given up hope of finding out what happened to her Fiancee. That was, until that little box showed up on her porch. Now, here she was, about to meet a family she knew nothing about beyond that they were "dangerous".

They had been driving for an hour when the limo slowed and turned down a long, Oak-lined dirt road. The thick forest of trees blocked out light and all hope of seeing what they were driving toward. Her heartbeat quickened as the trees cleared and the limo pulled to a stop in front of a massive, foreboding mansion. With only a sliver of moon, the sky was dark and pregnant with rainclouds. The craggy gabled roof, rounded towers and large windows were almost Hitchcockian in nature. As she stepped out of the limo and towards the front door, Grace suppressed the sudden desire to scream and dive back into the car. Instead, she held her head high, and grabbed the iron door-knocker.

A beautiful woman appearing to be in her early 30's answered the door. She wore a vintage, intricate lace, high-neck Victorian style dress that trailed along the floor. Her shiny, auburn hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders.

"Hello dear," a deep, yet feminine voice fell from her lips. "We thought we'd never get to meet you. Come in. I'm Jack's mom, Emily."

Grace entered the room surprised. Jack's mom? How could that be? She looked so young. Jack was in his late 20's himself. "But you're too young to be Jack's mom," Grace blurted out, then flushed with embarrassment.

Emily laughed, a deep, rich sound, and said "Well I never miss my nightly routine. Please come in, we are all waiting for you."

As Grace regained her composure, she looked around. She had just entered the foyer but saw a grand staircase directly in front of her. Intricate details were carved into the rich oak. What she assumed to be family portraits landscaped the walls and thick, heavy curtains covered the windows. To her right and left were hallways into the different parts of the house.

Silently, Grace followed Emily to the right, where the hallway opened up into a large sitting room with a giant fireplace and a mantlepiece covered in clocks. Surrounding the fireplace and seated in large, overstuffed chairs, sat two men and another woman. "This must be Jack's family," she thought, though she didn't yet dare speak. Though Emily had been friendly, there was a weird tension in the air.

The man closest to the fireplace was first to speak. Tall and ruggedly handsome, the dark haired man boomed in an impossibly deep voice "Grace, sweet Grace. I'm so pleased you are here." He moved toward her, and gently kissed her hand.

"I'm Jack's father, Edward. We've been dying to meet you, haven't we, John?" He turned and winked at the other man sitting in the chair closest to her. John turned to face her fully, and Grace gasped, nearly fainting.

"Oh dear," Emily sighed "Didn't Jack tell you he had a twin brother?"

"Obviously not, Mother," John laughed "or else she'd not be looking at me like I was a ghost."

Grace's cheeks flushed hot and she suddenly felt like she was in a boiler room. She took off her gloves and began to fan her cheeks. He looked just like Jack, only slightly younger, if that was possible. Emily rang a bell and silently a maid appeared.

"Bring Ms. McCarthy a cool glass of ice water, please. And do it quickly," Emily instructed the maid. She then turned and gestured to the chair farthest from the fireplace. "Please do have a seat, dear. We'd hate for you to faint this early on."

Cautiously, Grace sank into the supple fabric of the dark green chair. Regaining her composure, she began to speak "I apologize for my reaction. Jack didn't tell me much about his family and you do look so much like him. I'm happy to meet you, all of you." She attempted a forced smile.

"The feeling is mutual, my dear," John replied. "I'd like you to meet the last of the clan, my wife, Elizabeth."

Just then, an elegant woman in a dark rose colored, velvet dress stood and curtsied toward Grace. "How do you do, Grace?" she smiled broadly. "I would so have loved to have had a sister-in-law. I'm terribly sorry about what happened to Jack. We all are."

Imagining how different this meeting would have been had Jack been alive, Grace had to choke back tears. "I would have loved it too," she sobbed.

Emily glided across the floor gracefully and patted Grace on the shoulder in sympathy. "We would love for you to think of us as family, dear, even if not official. We were so excited to call you ours."

The maid entered the room, bringing the glass of water and announcing to Emily in a meek voice, "Dinner is ready to be served, ma'am."

"Oh dear!! Dinner is ready! Let's make haste of this will business then, shall we? Edward, bring over the case."

Edward stood and brought over a 12 inch trunk and handed it to Grace. "I know it's not much, but Jack left you this in his will," Edward said simply.

Grace opened the box and gasped. Inside were a set of keys, a pile of cash and a sealed letter. Opening the letter she read:

My Dearest Grace,

If you are reading this, the worst has happened. I'm so sorry I know how you must feel- 'Deep in earth my love is lying, And I must weep alone.' But don't weep, darling. And don't trust them. I'll find a way back to you, I promise.

Jack

Grace looked at the letter in her hands as tears pooled in her eyes, and fear began to pump through her heart.

"It's $20,000 and the keys to his car and house," John interjected. "I hope it's enough."

"It's more than enough," Grace stammered, taking a giant gulp from the glass of water the maid had handed her. As she stared down at the box, everything suddenly began to spin and she slowly lost consciousness.

Grace woke up, disoriented. It was still dark outside. "Where am I?" she thought. Realizing that she felt pain, she looked over to see a machine connected to her right arm. Pulling out the needle quickly, she stumbled out of bed onto a cold, tiled floor. Looking down at a nightgown and naked feet, she began to shiver. Then, remembering the events of the night, she felt the chill of panic seep deeper into her bones. "What have I gotten myself into," she worried.

Silently, she moved in the pitch black toward what she assumed to be the door. Feeling her way along the wall, she finally found the knob. She turned it carefully, and quietly slipped into the hallway. A flickering light at the other end of the hall partially illuminated the night enough for her to move from her room and down the hall. Coming to the room next to hers, she paused at the doorway and peeked inside. Holding back a panicked scream she looked in on a dozen or so beds full of bodies, humans, all hooked up to machines like the one she had been attached to- their forms gaunt and almost lifeless.

Clutching her chest, she moved room to room to be greeted by the same scene. As she came to the last room in the hall, she peered in to see Jack's parents, asleep in standing coffins, blood being pumped into their veins. Suddenly, a set of hands grabbed her from behind, holding one hand to her mouth. Flailing, Grace tried to break free but was not strong enough. The captor dragged her down the hall and back to her room. As they shut the door, they let her go and Grace turned to see Jack, holding his finger to his lips.

"Jack!" Grace flung herself into his arms.

"Grace, he whispered, kissing the top of her forehead. "We don't have time. They'll be awake any minute. Grab the case with the keys, the note and the $20,000. We have to escape now, before it's too late. I'll explain everything on the way."

Silently, Grace gathered the items, and slipped into the hall after Jack. Sneaking out of the house and into the cold, damp night, Grace looked up at Jack with a smile. He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss. It was then that they both heard a blood curdling scream and Jack looked down at her and said "Run."