03/04/2022
Chapter 12
THE GRAVEYARD
More than two weeks had passed since
James arrived at Wycliffe Manor. He had made no
progress on his work and he still had not met his cousin
Susan.
Indeed he thought it a curious thing that he had
not yet seen the woman who had invited him to the Manor
all the way from The United States. And now
more than a fortnight had transpired since he had been
welcomed at the villa by Baron William van Drake.
Whenever James would inquire about the
whereabouts of his cousin the reply from the
Baron was consistent and unwavering. (She was
away from home in Manchester tending to her ill
mother.)
Surely James thought to himself that Susan
must know by now that James was in England and
had arrived at the mansion. It was a mystery which
James could not brook. And why was James
summoned to England in the first place? By
now he did not believe the motive for the
invitation was merely a friendly one in which he
could meet his cousin and work on his
dissertation.
She was no where to be seen.
James began to feel deep down that his
cousin had an ulterior and ill motive
for attempting successfully to induce him to
leave Boston and journey all the way over the
Atlantic Ocean to the awful mansion of which he
now despised.
Yet what that reason could be
absolutely baffled James. And with all the dark
and strange things which had transpired in the
forsaken place so far James found his mind
becoming more upset and distressed.
He was beginning to become aghast whenever
he would look at the very walls of the Manor.
It was as if James were in some kind of hellish domain
taking place within a dreadful, dismal and dreary
dream.
Another night had arrived. On its vast,
sallow hued hill, Wycliffe Manor was quite isolated
on three sides from any other distinguished
place of notice. The only exceptions being two
medium sized courtyards to the east and south;
Among the latter a very small cemetery remained
consisting of only three tombs;
Beyond the main square to the east lay the dales
and woodlands which led to the town of Tilshead
almost two full miles away from the Manor.
To the north and south (beyond the southern
square and its few tombs) lay miles of coniferous
forest land.
Yet twenty yards to the west of the Manor was
situated an entrance to a vast and ancient graveyard
which was visible from the Manorʼs southwest
belfry. Jamesʼ bedroom was located just below
this very same tower.
There were two apetures in Jamesʼ bed
chamber, each looking out to the west.
Both were set in arched, stone encasements and
were identical in size and form. From the opening
on the right several small boughs from a towering
tree top tapped menacingly upon its pane. It was
though an invisible hand was moving them to
and fro in the accursed odiousness of the
haunted night.
Yet if James looked out of the
high window to the left there were no trees to
obscure his view and he could see the entrance
to the graveyard as well as a good portion of the
cemetery itself.
The Manor was strangly still and more so than
ever before. A heavy wind began to blow into the
chamber where James had his bedroom.
This wind was the only sound to be heard as it
moaned from the direction of the cemetery far
below his window.
The moon was not obscured and James was
able to view through this translucent opening a
good portion of the graveyard as he stood
gazing out and down upon the remote and
archaic place.
The graveyard itself was neglected for
centuries as every headstone was broken and
the few crypts which stood near the cemeteryʼs
entrance were all covered with a thick, sickly,
greenish moss. The yew trees near the ogive of
the graveyard swayed ominously in the howling
winds which blew in from the south.
Aside from the sound of these winnowing gales
there was no sound at all.
The only other moving thing James could see
from his perch aside from the throng of trees was
the swaying of many tall grasses.
Their wavering tops wrappped their tips around
the bases of the crypts. As the sky was clear,
the moonlight had a tranquilizing effect upon
James and he chose to lay down upon his bed.
An hour passed by and James fell asleep.
Suddenly a collective chorus of moans arose
from the graveyard. These moans quickly
became mixed with occasional sharp wailing
sounds. This cocophony of dreadful noises were
loud enough to awaken James from his heavy
slumber.
The witches’ hour had arrived.
Such was Jamesʼ thought. The moaning and the
wailing continued. James was now on his feet
looking out his window watching and listening intently.
The sounds emanating from these voices seemed to
carry forth from souls bereft of all hope.
Yet although these pitiful cries came from the
graveyard below James could see no one there.
He struggled to witness as much of the cemetery
as he possibly could. The unfettered moonlight
now illuminated the entire graveyard as if it were lit
by powerful spotlights.
Then all at once the moaning and the wailing ceased,
and an awful silence swept across the land as far as
the eye could see.
The wind ceased to blow and the trees became still.
Their many barren boughs on the entire western side of
the house were now motionless.
It was as if the world had died.
James felt his heart pound madly as he peered
down into the moonlit distance expecting to
witness some strange and wild cause for the
moaning and wailing and their abrupt
cessation.
Then far down in the cemetery, in between the
tombstones, the yew trees and the crypts, James
could see a dim, white figure passing slowly over
the grasses and the dead, tall reeds.
The mysterious figure was approaching the Manor,
and as it drew closer James could see that the
figure was that of a woman wearing a burial
shroud! The shroud ran down to the womanʼs
bare feet and was long, tattered and torn. The
womanʼs face was chalky, pallid and deathly pale.
Her hair was black, raven black, and was caked
with dirt and a few wet leaves. Then the woman
stopped walking just as she reached the
entrance to the graveyard. She smiled a cold
and malevolent smile, and looked up.
The woman spoke not a word, but stood still
as still a statue, unmoving and unmoved. James was
astonished and realized he was literally
beholding an animated co**se.
Then James was overcome with the horror of it all,
and he fainted as he fell from the window to the floor.
{From "The Mysterious Tale of Wycliffe Manor"}
(C) 2022 Green Frog Publishing
(To Be Released Worldwide This Spring of 2022)
