The Manor house

The dead man pockets contained his journal with a half drunk bottle of moonshine. His eyes and mouth were opened as if in afraid of what they saw. He looked young, but his face appeared as though he'd been in an area where the weather is brutal, with marred by scars and was unshaven. He carried one book in his duffle bag, its cover, read Cthulhu. I could not make heads or tails of of the book.
Constable Dooley's Statement



1870 Oct 31,
“I have returned to where I lived as a child. Father has died. That was the reason, I am here. Banished from his sight. My father was a very rich man for owning such a large rambling house as that. Having several unused rooms with which to hide in as a youth. I memoried and had enjoyed playing hide and seek there, driving my parents and their friends to drink.

However, my father forbid me from going into the back area of the house. I did not know why? Father told me sternly never to journey there. He shook and bellowed into my face, his huge hands grabbed me by the collar of the shirt to glare into my eyes. I will always remember his face there. I felt as though I was to die in his hands, The look of contempt on his face as he looked at me, when I spoke of that area of the house.

When I had dared to mention those rooms. Father would glare at me, as though I brought up something of most vile contempt to speak of this region of the house. Once, when I had choose to speak of this room, while he was with a noble couple. His eyes looked at me as if I had dared to swear. He swung a heavy right at my head. Caught me there, the nobles did not react as if this was beneath their standings. To say a word to my father about his behavior or mine. Blood ran from the injury, when I woke I had been put in my room.


I was a mere boy, but he h'd forgotten to lock the door to this region of the house, always locked until now. The only thing I did was challenge his authority of walking into the-the rooms back there. The reason was because I walked into the back portion. Only a select few were able to go there. They were nobles of that I am certain. I never saw them return from there. No one would want to challenge a noble.

'why should I not go there? I lived here, did I not?', I questioned, I never utter a word about those rooms to him or anyone else. I had to know what was in those rooms and what went on there.


However these rooms still intrigued me, I swore I would find out what I would learn about these rooms. Come hell or high water,
I would find out, now. I moved the door centimetre by centimetre. In deathly silence I moved. It opened it made a horrendous sound. Sweat trickled down my back.My stomach rolled. It seemed as if I had walked into the maw of a dragon. I checked over my shoulder to see if it had been noted by anyone here. Fear held me in its gauntlet.

The trepidation I was feeling made me feel fearless. I strode in there. Sweat ran and poured down my back, my blood chilled my veins and arteries. I over road the fear I was feeling.

'I was going to find out what was there. On this day. I strode forward, like an avenging army, I will be there. By the god, I would.' I charged forward into the chamber. Grit my teeth as I slipped into the hallway of this area. The floor was a thick rug, that was stained with a brownish fluid flies hovered over this stain. There was a rancid scent.

In the deep dark gloom, I had entered the room,Seeing in the shadowy gloom as my eyes adjusted to the darkness i saw in one corner a shadow of a chair and a person seated there.I wondered as to what I had stumbled into. Had my father set this up for me to catch me daring to go here.

In the darkness I saw what I prosumed to have been a woman, she was seated there as quiet as a statue. I approached her, seeing a swarm of flies about her. There was a stench coming from the chair where the woman sat.

I drew back, but they did not seem disturbed by my arrival there, Her dress covered her bosom, but did nothing to hide the fact that she was without anything covering her abdomine not even flesh there. Intestines rolled and spilled out about her lower body. This was where the insect still lingered there, taking no notice of me.

In her lap lay a knife.I knew beyond a doubt she was dead. Above her hung a torch unlit. I looked into her face and saw a face contorted into a mask of pain, her hair was long, she was dressed as a commoner would be. She looked to be about twenty or eighteen years of age, I did not remember seeing her in the community, than again. I was very young.

I was afraid, what had I wandered into. I recoiled in horror from where she sat. The scent disgusted me, I had to force my stomache to be under control, so vomit would not spill out of my mouth. I wanted to be out of here.

I peered over my shoulder to see that the light that was there ahd further demonished in to the pit of darkness. My eyes slowly adjusted to the further darkness. Slipped further inside the room. In the inky gloom I could barely make out what was before my eyes, I approached the table that lay in the middle of the room.

There was nothing out of the ordinary aside from woman's body that sat there with flies rolling out of her guts and the odd books that were there in huge bookcases here in this room. It figured as my father's nose was always in a book, what else would I expect to find here.

I headed to the middle of the room, and found that I could walk beneath the table. Just stooping just a bit. Drawing up to one of the chairs that lay before the table. I had to climb on one of the chair's seat to see what was on the table. It was huge twenty feet in radius.

On it were several books, to have been very well crafted. The books were as long as my index finger. I choose to draw a volume up to read. It was nearly in my grasp of my hand. I closed my hand about it, the book felt heavy in my hands. My hand felt the book slip from my grasp to arrive back on the table. With a thump, I peed my pants.

Did father hear this. I looked over my shoulder to see if he was here. Having not seen him, I smiled confidently to myself. Having to draw it up.

'Got it,' I smiled triumphantly as I put it inside my school bag. Wanted to know what happens in this room. now I would find out. Smiled evilly to myself that I had gotten one over on dad. The book felt heavy in my school bag.

In the middle sat a wash basin. I was going to take a look at that too. I got to the top of the table, and having to crawl across it. I was within an arms reach to arrive there. The table had deep grooves cut into it. An inch deep in places, they looked like what I had seen to the spine of the books. There was ashes on it. Bottles lay there too.

Suddenly I was being plucked from the table like an errant worm by a mother bird, to dangle by my collar of my school uniform above the table. I could see inside the basin. What looked to be a baby girl in a basin of blood. I saw my father holding me there above the table. He drew back his hand to strike me. I closed my eyes to await its arrival. It did not arrive. I was thankful for its non arrival.

He drew me out of the room, as I dangled from his hand, and said,"You should not know? I told you never to go here?"

“Why father​?” I asked as he shook me by the collar like I was a change purse wanting to empty it. Tears ran from my eyes.

“You do not want to know,” he warned and glaring at me. Waving his finger in front of my face.

"Why I was there? Is to know, Why I should not be there?" I said into his face. The blood drained from his face, he moved faster than I had ever seen him run to be out of the room.

Father had sent me overseas to rid of me. He paid a lavish amount to kee me there, given me a note to hand to the person. I was to meet before boarding the ship. I was a child sent to a boarding school. He gave me note, with which to use to gain all had need of.

My last name when I used it was to cause a great deal of hatred with the people of this community. No one could tell me, anything about this hatred that they had towards me. What did we do? I pondered. Someone said, It has something to do with the spanish inquisition.

Great now we are getting some where. What about the spanish inquisition, do we have have done with it. I was not spanish, I was celtic by heritage not Spanish in anyway.

I had one of these books, which I had tried to read, found I could not. I was curious about the what these symbols depicted were meaningless to me. The images were similar to ancient writings of the ancients there had to be other books like it in bookshops and curios shops. Later on, I did this. To find out they had never seen anything like the book I was holding.

It was a mystery still, to me, The book had been battered and carted half way around the world. However it still was intact. Until I had finished my schooling.


I was given a lot of coins to begin my journey in Europe to not return home. My father was told, by the school of what I was doing. Had just become of age. I was sent to the Ireland. My documents were sealed, a man took me to the ship. I was to board. I found I could not fight my father's wishes as he held my purse strings.


The Atlantic ocean tossed and threw the ship roughly about, just as the ship tossed me around it's deck. Sleep had become impossible as hammock swayed roughly all night. Walking from my cabin to the galley, became difficult as I bounced from one wall to the other. Returning to land by walking down the bouncing gangplank as it bobbed and weaved beneath my feet, was a blessing.

A large burly man walked towards me, he had a frown on his face, it was a quagmire of wrinkles and scars that adorned his face. His long jacket looked weather beaten. He wore denim. His hands looked as though they had been through a meat grinder and gigantic in comparison to mine. He said, “I am looking for Peter Whately.”

I said as I approached him, drawing my right hand to his own to shake as if he and I am a friend ”I am him.”

“I thought as much, Edward told me to expect you.” the man said. He took my hand in his, it was calloused the joints were large and swollen from damage to them, by the weather that was dealt here.

“Edward wanted you to meet me. Why would he care?” I winced as I stepped onto the wharf, that was busy with people. The bag felt heavy on my shoulder, It tore into my muscles, with its daunting weight. I could barely stand beneath its weight, I struggled as the weight shifted beneath my feet as it bobbed and shifted with the buoyancy of the ship, I withdrew my hand from his. Looked at it as if it was now filthy.

“Your father sent me here. To take you to where you should go.” he said as he reached into his pocket.

“Do you know, why I am here.” I snarled, I had enough of my father, and his provisions. What else do I have to please him. I knew he could careless, about me. What he arranged, after I was caught. Excommunicated . He expects me to be met with open arms with this,. I spit into his face as the rage and the contempt I felt towards him tore through me

“I do not know, nor do I care.” he suggested as he looked at me, and shrugged his shoulders. Having drawn a pipe from his pocket, with which to smoke. He glared at me. He shoved me backward into the bag that now lay beside me. I fell, I drew myself up from where I now lay. Closed my hands into fists to defend myself from this brute of a man.

“Why are you here?” I asked, not really understand this in any way. My father was had sent this man here for me. To do what? My father can go to hell. I felt still furious with my father. That was before me. I glared at him.

“You can tell my father to forget it. I do not need his help. Nor do I want it.” I stated as I brought my bag down onto the wharves floor of weathered and beaten wood. Being careful not bump into wooden crates, there were fishermen pulling out lobsters from their traps, and crates from the ship's bilges.

“Fine.” he said as he turned around and walked away from me. Wiping his hands on his pants as though to clean them off. Then drew up his pipe to his lips having lit it he blew a long stream of smoke from his maw. Turned around kicked a clump of seaweed and stone from the floor of the wharf and walked away. With a shrug of his shoulder he looked hurt, he commented, something I did not hear.

“I did not hear you.” I said, he did not hear me, I guess. He continued to walk away from me.


I walked into a tavern the place was busy with the population of the streets there. A few people were playing darts. There was the thrill of a bagpipe being played there. There were people milling about. The air stank of stale beer and tobacco smoke. There was a plate of blood pudding before a large man

The shapely barkeep poured me a glass of Guinness. Smiled at me, “What is your name, stranger?”

She looked at me, there was a twinkle in her eyes, as she brought the vessel down before my hand.

I looked into her eyes and smiled affectionately at her in return as I spoke, “I am Peter Whately.”

Her eyes quickly departed from my face, looked away she seemed very afraid of me after I said this to here. The look on her face said, I had just spoken the name of the very devil himself. She looked at me mystified. No horrified. Her reaction was puzzling first she liked me, now she was mortified by being here. That I said this to her. She looked as if to say, ”How dare I say that name?” She flinched, her face had grown white with terror upon hearing me say this to here. “What did you say?”

“What was wrong with my name? t was the one I was given when I was born, Is it not. It is my name, Peter Whately? I have come in search of my family history?” I said.

She looked at me as if I had my brains addled or some such thing as this

I said,”I am Peter Whately, I have come here in search of my family's history?”

“Go away, you dog from hell. May your family reside in hell. Where you belong?” She withdrew the glass of Guinness. She snarled, she looked at me as if I had frightened her to death. All I did was say my name, what did I do that was so wrong? I did not know, what they knew?”

“I tell you, the truth. It is my name. What do you mean a dog from hell. Why would you say this?” I said.

'Go back to where you came." , she said as she turned her back and tried to walk away. I reached out to grab her wrist.

“Your family worships the Chuthlu. Let go of me.“ she screamed. She looked at her bouncer to throw me out of the tavern. The bouncer began to walk towards me, he was a monster in size. He closed his fist when he reached me.

I choose to leave, and asked loudly” What the hell is a Cthulhu.'
Other people glared at me, as though I had said, the name of the devil. People drew away from me as though I had been man who should have been held in the stocks for weeks on end for saying that name. What had I done, that could create this type of horror on their faces. I had not been studying witchcraft all I said was the name or this one word. I was unable to find any one who would tell me anything about the word or name.



Walking down the street, feeling fear tear into me. I spotted a building that had a metal sign hanging from two chains with a teacup and a teapot etched into it. I saw people look at me and give me a wide berth as I walked down the sidewalk.

Hanging outside the door of this shop. Have a cup, was the statement written on the window. I choose to enter the place, I saw a petite woman, having the effect of being the most welcoming person here. She smiled as I entered and looked at me, as I walked into the tea room. She had the look of a being a granny. Her head was in a bonnet. Her eyes needed wire glasses with which to see. She wiped the table clean with a white rag.