ANNA DARLING
ANGELA AVERRE-HALL
CHBB PUBLISHING
CONTENTS
1. Dedication
2. T.S. Eliot
3. Chapter One
4. Chapter Two
5. Chapter Three
6. Chapter Four
7. Chapter Five
8. Chapter Six
9. Chapter Seven
10. Chapter Eight
11. Chapter Nine
12. Chapter Ten
13. Chapter Eleven
14. Chapter Twelve
15. Chapter Thirteen
16. Chapter Fourteen
17. Chapter Fifteen
18. Chapter Sixteen
19. Chapter Seventeen
20. Chapter Eighteen
21. Chapter Nineteen
22. Chapter Twenty
DEDICATION
Dedicated to my sister-in-law Hanna and my brother Charlie, my nieces Anna, Nadine, Sarah & Nicole who live in Germany.
I miss you and love you to the moon and back.
Gewidmet meiner Schwägerin Hanna und meinem Bruder Charlie, meinen Nichten Anna, Nadine, Sarah & Nicole, die in Deutschland leben.
Ich vermisse dich und liebe dich bis zum Mond und zurück.
She turned away, but with the autumn weather.
Compelled my imagination many days,
Many days and many hours:
Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers.
And I wonder how they should have been together!
I should have lost a gesture and a pose.
Sometimes these cogitations still amaze,
The troubled midnight, and the noon's repose.
~T. S. Eliot
CHAPTER ONE
Heaven Sent or Hell Bound?
M emories lift up with the valley mist, the natural fog that looks like smoke plumes from a distance that covers the small town of Briar Glen, a beautiful town. Nestled up against the Great Smoky Mountains along the Tennessee and North Carolina border, the town always appears at cloaked in smoke. The town square is surrounded by little specialty shops; an antique store, a delicious bakery, and jewelry store with a gift shop next to it. A few row houses and several historical homes, well over one hundred years old, line the streets. The streets are clean. The crime is low and the people are friendly. No one would ever believe that this small community would house one of the most powerful covens on the planet.
It happened several years ago now. My name is Anna Hall and I am the High Priestess of the Briar Glen Covenant of Earth Magic. We are white witches and I’m going to tell you a story. It will make you question your reality and the appearance of things and people around you. I was shocked when an angel and a demon appeared and shook our small community to its core. It was at the end of September and all through October that the town came alive, alive with spirits from the underworld. And my coven sent the demons back to Hell. That is, all except for one.
MANY PEOPLE, angels and demons believe that there is a war between Good and Evil that continues on Earth, a struggle for tipping the scales one-way or the other for humanity. Whatever it is, or was, it is over and done with, because the overlords of Good and Evil abandoned Earth long ago. Neither the Angel Evangeline nor the Demon Dartmoor knew that the other’s leader had long abandoned the struggle for humans. And it would be the witches plea with the Goddess and Gods that served to make things right.
THE DEMON DARTMOOR’S muscles were knotted, his bones broken, causing his wings to bend out of shape and grossly disfigure his appearance. It was a load off his mind when the troposphere burned them off. In the distance, an angel stood watching.
The late afternoon sun was casting a shadow on the small angel’s view and she was too far away to see the demon. As her shadow waned, he appeared perfect and gorgeous. He was like a trouper in an impressionist’s painting. He was made to live the perfect life. He was a masterpiece.
She feasted her eyes on the dubious evil-looking man chewing on his cheroot, glowering from under his leather cowboy hat. His goatee meticulously trimmed. She had the impression that his clothes were expensive, though she knew little about fashion. He had a walnut colored shawl with a pattern draped over his shoulder. He wore a blue shirt and jeans. His boots matched his hat. He had a small scar beneath his right eye. He was distinguished and handsome, in a roguish sort of way. He had a well-weathered face with wrinkles that made him look distinguished if not standoffish, but yet, with a handsome appeal.
But as the man came closer, the angel discovered what a mess he really was. The ugly secrets of his life that he tried covering up seemed to emit from his every pore the closer he approached. He wanted his life to be beautiful not the ugly vortex that it was, she was sure of this. It was as if he was suddenly draped in the skin of something resembling the ugliness of his soul. She hesitated and started to back away.
He on the other hand, was enthralled, his heart skipping a beat just at the sight of her. He waltzed down the lane with a skip and toe tapped a staccato rhythm as he made his way towards her. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not here to hurt you,” he said as he continued advancing toward her.
“Why do you stand out in this western attire? This is not a western city.”
“Little angel, you have no idea what you’re up against.”
“Who are you?” she demanded as she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. Her hair glistening fell in waves over her shoulders Her energy was soft and nurturing.
He held his finger up to his lips, admiring her heart shaped face and electric, clear blue eyes. “I am Duke Dartmoor, and I rule forty legions of spirits. We will set up our command here, and on the night of Halloween we shall begin our rule on this world. But first we take this city. And who may I ask are you?”
“I am Evangeline,” she said as she extended her white glistening wings, “I have been sent here to protect this city.”
“Angel, I am just sharing the truth, we will take this city. Truth,” he smiled, “something far beyond anything you and your bible-banging holy-rollers can comprehend. You have no freewill whatsoever. All of you are nothing but puppets on a string…mere pawns on a chessboard,” bellowed the Demon Duke Dartmoor.
“I don’t want to hear it,” she stammered, “you manipulate your words to deceive people, you’re the embodiment of pure evil. Repent demon, there’s still time. You don’t have to be a devil. I can save you. You can still be a resident in the Kingdom of Heaven.”
“Don’t you know little angel, Heaven is overrated?”
She started to protest, and he raised his finger to her lips, and stopped just before making contact, making an almost non-audible “shhh,” and continued, “do you know the feeling you get when you are dreaming and begin falling? The darkness, the dread, the emptiness of a free fall….and then,” he pulled his fingers from near her lips and snapped his fingers loudly, “you wake up. It was like that, but worse. That sheer terror, magnified through every sense, and realizing I was not asleep, not dreaming.”
Intrigued she asked, “What was it like? Did it hurt? You are talking about your fall from Heaven, right?”
“That was the strange part. My emotions were ripped out of me. It was as if parts of my soul were leaving as I plummeted, and I had to live with carved-out holes inside of me. Physically it didn’t hurt at all, but the emotional trauma is indescribable.”
“That sounds horrible,” Evangeline exclaimed.
“I was smoldering to begin with, then I ignited and went up in flames. It was as if I had spontaneously combusted. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t breath, and every bit of my skin was on fire. I understood it was all over when I hit the ground. I didn’t think I would survive. My body ached with every beat of my now dark hea
rt. I wanted to die right then and there, but I couldn’t move or do anything, I was paralyzed. Then as fast as my pain had set in, it ended and I was in pure bliss. I was finally free, and that’s all I could think about. I wasn’t the same and I could move. All that was left of my feathered black wings was the skeletal remains. It took a while before I was able to shape shift into the human I am now.
Trying to appear tougher than she actually was, “Are you a fallen angel? Are you trying to find your way back to Heaven?
He gave mirthless laugh. “Shall we continue to the Manchester Manor?” he asked, as his death-like eyes, devoid of all emotions, seemed to peer through her.
“Yes, I think we should. Since that is where the chaotic and unfortunate Halloween events will be taking place. I always dread this time of year,” divulged Evangeline.
The Demon Dartmoor nodded, and for the first time Evangeline saw something stir in his expression that lent credence to the stories of Devils and Demons. They are devious and cruel. A slow smile crept over his face, and it was not nice in any way, shape, or form. It was very much what she had imagined a demon to look like when it came across an unsuspecting Angel. She turned her face away and nibbled on her bottom lip.
They hurried along the street. She didn’t like the way the streetlights were flickering and going out as they passed each one. Feeling pulled along as if escaping something dark and evil lurking behind her. She shuddered again, embraced her fear, and continued walking with the Demon. Two blocks from the manor, Dartmoor stopped, pulled out another cheroot cigar, and lit it up. He took a drag, and staring at her, started walking slowly in circle around her, looking over her as if examining a rare art piece. Two thin lines of smoke drifted from his nostrils as slowly looked up and locked eyes with her, flashing the evilest grin she had ever seen. She did not like the uneasiness that he filled her with. She turned away from him, quickly peered over her shoulder and Evangeline disappeared. She actually just made herself invisible to avoid his constant gage, and after flitting about a bit, she decided to fly into the Manor and see what was happening.
CHAPTER TWO
The Manchester Manor
ALL THE VOLUNTEERS met at the old Manor on Manchester Street. “I’m happy to see all of you here tonight,” stated Anna. “I have a feeling if we put our heads and talents together we will create the best darn haunted Manor this town has ever seen. But, to set the tone, let’s learn a bit more about the history of this Manor, I’ll give the floor to Tom Donahue.”
Tom stood up and addressed the volunteers. “The Manchester Manor has a rich history. Fleeing religious persecution and political turmoil in Britain, the Manchester’s immigrated to the United States in 1896 seeking a peaceful life. Hoping to avoid the political troubles that had plagued them in Britain and the problems of urban life they saw in the United States, the Manchester’s built this house in Briar Glen, Delaware. Nevertheless, political disputes and family troubles dogged the Manchester’s during the last ten years of his life.”
“I knew this house was on the historical register but I didn’t know that is was built so long ago,” stated Patrick, the high school football’s star linebacker.
“Walter Manchester was a wealthy businessman who achieved his fortune as the owner of the Manchester and Sons Furniture Company. I’m sure you have heard of it. In 1898 Manchester decided he would build a Manor befitting a man of his public stature. The Manor he created was a marvel for its time. It took about one hundred twenty men over a year and a half to build this nearly 8,000 square foot mansion. Manchester called this his Manor, which boasts ten bedrooms. The moldings and cornices were hand carved and are seen throughout this home. Persnickety detail was used to create every inch of this masterpiece from the master bedroom to the servant’s quarters.”
As he talked, everyone was giving the room they were standing in the once-over. “Is this the oldest home in our city?” asked Jennifer from the high school drama class.
“Yes it is Jennifer. As I was saying, Manchester, his wife Hazel, and their son had big dreams when moving into this one of a kind Manor, but their dreams fell apart when Mrs. Hazel Manchester mysteriously succumbed to a Typhoid Fever just weeks after moving in. After a year of mourning, Manchester married Teresa, a woman twenty-five years his junior, with whom he had two more children. Manchester passed away in 1928 leaving behind his new wife, their two sons, and his eldest son from Hazel. When Teresa Manchester passed away five years later, his sons bickered constantly over ownership of the Manor and the furniture business. The Great Depression ended up stifling the business and eventually Manchester’s youngest son, Fredrick, took control of the Manor.”
“We know the place is haunted,” stated Rita, star of the last performance she was in at her high school.
“I’m getting to that, “ said Mr. Donahue. “The Manor underwent hard times as the family fortune dwindled. Fredrick turned the Manor into a boarding home where some unsavory activity--gambling, drinking and prostitution--became the norm. There were even tales of murder. It is said that a prostitute was strangled in the infamous scarlet bedroom on the second floor while another boarder, a German immigrant named Aldrich Bachman burned to death in the master bedroom in 1939. Some believe that this was some sort of spontaneous combustion as there was little damage to the surrounding rooms. Another story has a young boy being drowned in a downstairs guest bathroom shortly after it was added to the manor.”
“So do we know who the ghosts are?” asked Anna.
“Over the subsequent years, guests of this Manor have suggested that it is rich with paranormal activity. The ghosts of Walter Manchester himself, Teresa, Fredrick, as well as a nanny named Matilda Cornell. And of course, we cannot forget to mention Steven’s ghost, whom some believe to have been the strangler who murdered the prostitute.”
“My granddad said a lot of famous people stayed here, but I was always afraid of this place,” stated Ronny. He was the special effects guy for all the high school plays.
“The guest list for this manor is quite impressive. It is said to have hosted the likes of former President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Joe DiMaggio, Bette Davis, Clark Gable and Norman Rockwell, while also serving as a well-known meeting place for the Freemason Society.” Mr. Donahue paused, glanced at the faces of those surrounding him and then continued, “Guests have experienced everything from voices, chanting, full body apparitions, foul odors, furniture moving by itself, screens flying off windows, pictures flying off the walls, slamming doors, the sounds of footsteps on the stairs and halls, sudden temperature changes, shadow people, and an ominous wolf’s howl which can shake the house. Others have felt the pressure of hands actually pushing them. One visitor felt that a presence was attempting to push her down the stairs while another was almost forced out of a third floor window. Paranormal experts have said that the entities in this Manor are the most advanced they have ever seen,--capable of harnessing electrical energy and converting that power into the ability to move large objects and impose their will physically on their current surroundings.”
He paused once more, this time for affect. “Sooooo, any other questions?” He stared around the room waiting, and after no one spoke up he shrugged his shoulders and continued. “The previous homeowners have taken great strides in uncovering the secrets of this home. Well-known paranormal groups such as those from the paranormal reality television shows. The stories of this home have also been captured in books such as Haunted Manchester Manor and Bones in the Yard. When the Glenn family acquired this property they fully intended on revitalizing this once great Victorian and restoring it to the beautiful centerpiece of the neighborhood that it once was.”
“We didn’t know all the history of the Manor,” exclaimed Nadine and Anna in unison.
Mr. Donahue shook his head in acknowledgement. “Most of the people in our community don’t know the history. The owners of this Manor have always kept the public out of their business. It’s always been somewhat of a mystery. I remember hea
ring all kinds of gossip about this place growing up
“It’s sad they had to let go of the place. Every Saturday the Glenn’s would come into my parents diner and discuss renovations as they ate,” said Jennifer.
“Well, unfortunately,” Tom continued, “due to mishandled funds the Glenn’s declared bankruptcy and the Manor is being sold for a $4.5 million asking price.”
Rose stood up and exclaimed, “Well, are we actually working on acquiring this place right now.” She beamed at sharing the news. “And when we do, during the Halloween season we will open the basement of the Mansion (weekends only in October) for what will truly be a one of a kind Halloween attraction! It will be the only haunted house in the country that combines the haunt industry and the paranormal industry.”
Mark tilted his head with a smile plastered on his face. “Mother, are you telling me that we are going to live here?”
“Yes, most definitely. Your father and I have already made inquiries and contacted our real estate broker who is working on the paperwork right now.”
“Awesome! This is the coolest place ever. I can hardly wait,” Mark replied.
Rose, thrilled at the prospect of becoming the new owner to the mansion divulged, “Your father and I have already consulted with our law firm and have come up with a fabulous business plan. As guests travel through the bowels of our Mansion, they will encounter thirty to thirty-five trained actors, high-end animations and illusions, and they may even get a glimpse of the truly paranormal. Best of all, since this attraction is only in the basement, guests can have some scares in the spirit of the season without ever affecting the majesty of the main levels of this marvelous home. It is going to truly be something special.”
CHAPTER THREE
Anna Darling Page 1