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Westmoreland Manor | Chapter 8

Westmoreland Manor | Chapter 8

“Please, we need someone here immediately, there’s been a murder,” said Caroline urgently. Her tone was controlled, but it was obvious that she was scared. The fact that she couldn’t find Paul was becoming increasingly worrying to her, and she found herself looking over her shoulder more than once while she was trying to contact the police. She chewed her bottom lip while the operator responded. “Yes, thank you,” she said, hanging up the phone. She let out a sigh of relief. The police apparently had a station just on the other side of the hill, and they’d be there shortly. It struck her as odd that they’d be within such close proximity of the house, but she pushed the thought aside, just thankful that they’d be out of the place soon.

She picked up the phone again, thinking to call Mary Anne to let her know what happened, but remembered that Mary Anne didn’t carry a cell, and she didn’t have her home number. She set the phone back down tentatively.

“I’m all packed,” he said nonchalantly. He was trying hard not to let the worry show on his face. Without any information on Cat or Jordan, he was growing extremely anxious. The house’s supposed emptiness only spurred on his fear.

The two jumped when the doorbell sounded. Goodness, that was quick, though Caroline, hurrying over to the large double doors. “Stay inside, Charlie, I’ll talk to the police outside,” she said. Charles didn’t feel like being treated like a child, but he didn’t argue. He sat on top of his suitcase and stared nervously at the ceiling.

“Thank you for being so prompt, officer,” started Caroline, trying to keep calm, “there’s been a murder. We found the body upstairs, and I can’t find my husband anywhere. I’m afraid something might have happened to him too.” She didn’t realize she hadn’t been breathing until she gasped after speaking. The police officer looked confused. She was a young woman of about twenty with tan skin, obviously dyed blonde hair, and an inexperienced look.

“Er… I think it would be best if you showed me where the body was,” she said, obviously growing more confident with herself. Caroline frowned slightly, but nodded and began to lead the policewoman upstairs.

“Wait,” said an authoritative voice from behind them. The two women paused and turned simultaneously. Mary Anne was standing at the end of the walkway, and was making her way quickly up to the pair of women. “I’ll take it from here, Dahlia; you can go back to the station.” She nodded once at the policewoman, but faced Caroline. Dahlia looked startled, but sighed in relief. Trying to look officious (yet coming up short), she gave Caroline a small nod.

“Have a good evening, ma’am,” she said, and was down the road in her police cruiser in a matter of minutes. Mary Anne walked briskly into the house, sweeping past Caroline with an unmistakable coldness. Caroline was confused by the older woman’s behavior.

“Annie, what on earth was that!?” she asked, her voice rising. It may have been Annie’s house, technically, but with a dead body and a missing person on her hands, Caroline didn’t feel this was the time for Mary Anne to become assertive. “I called the police because there’s a dead body upstairs, not just because I thought it would be funny!” She had to stop herself from fully yelling at Mary Anne. It wasn’t her place, and certainly wasn’t the time.

“Where is it?” asked Mary Anne. There wasn’t a hint of concern in her voice, just the same authoritative tone as before. Caroline found herself, for the second time that night, speechless… she realized that she was pointing upstairs with a trembling finger. It’s Elinor, she managed to mouth. Mary Anne rolled her eyes exasperatedly and stormed upstairs toward the master bedroom. “The body’s here, isn’t it? I know it.” Caroline could only follow her in shocked silence. Meanwhile, Charles had slipped out of the room.

“Annie, wait!” said Caroline, but Mary Anne had opened the door already. The blonde waited for the older woman’s screams.

“Is this some kind of joke, Caroline?” said Annie. She turned around, throwing her hands up in irritation. “You know, you and your family have only proven yourselves unreliable from the moment you’ve gotten here. Making up stories about murders and calling the police… honestly, I would’ve expected this from your incompetent son, but you! You’re an adult, for Christ’s sake, act like it!” As she spoke, Mary Anne was storming toward the phone in the main hall.

“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Caroline, following after Mary Anne with harsh footsteps. “You’ve never indicated any frustration with us, and you hardly visit this place anymore anyway! Hell, your husband hasn’t been back in what? A month? Maybe longer?” She didn’t realize she was yelling until Mary Anne picked up the phone. She put a finger up to shush Caroline as if she were a child. Caroline stood there, dumbfounded.

“Walter?” said Mary Anne. “Yeah. Yeah, you should probably come back… yes. You read my mind, my thoughts exactly. Uh-huh. Right, they’ve proven themselves quite incapable of taking care of things. Couldn’t even properly… yes. I understand.” She set the phone back on the hook, turning to Caroline. “Walter will be back in the morning. He was coming back anyway, he figured you’d all be incompetent assholes.” She snorted, taking a glance around. “Looks like you didn’t even bother to clean up the place.”

Caroline stood there weakly. “But… that’s what the maid – no, that’s what Elinor used to do…” she said. It sounded pathetic.

Mary Anne rolled her eyes again. “Really, Mrs. Hopper, you and your husband have got to stop making up stories. We’ve never had a maid; I don’t know anyone named Elinor. Get over it!” And with that, she was out the door.

Caroline couldn’t help herself. Before she knew it, she was crying, whether out of frustration, exhaustion, or confusion, she couldn’t tell.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

Sorry it’s short. My creativity is going everywhere BUT Westy Man…

In the meantime, enjoy this lovely preview of a Halloween Collaboration Story for the Sims 3. If anyone’s interested, I’ll post a link later on. 😀

Made with the Happy Halloween Stuff Pack. 😄

 
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Posted by on October 19, 2012 in Manor Story

 

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The Non-Canon Chronicles of Westmoreland Manor

So I was derping around with Sims 2 today, and I thought – “Hey, what if Catherine, Charles, and Jordan escaped the manor for no explainable reason and were found in a little beach house on some remote islands to get away from it all!?”

This was the end result:

Catherine Westmoreland: Family Aspiration: Have 6 Grandchildren (or something like that). I think she turned out well! And not at all similar to Sims 3 Catherine… -_-

Charles Hopper: Pleasure Aspiration: Become a 5 Star Chef (again, not sure about the exact title). Somehow, he got Jordan’s Lifetime Want. And somehow, he also looks nothing like the real Chuck…

Jordan White: Romance Aspiration: Become a Professional Party-Guest. He also looks 0 like Real Jordan. But he is fabulous, bitches, so GTFO.

This is Westmoreland Beach House…

I know it’s not on the beach. So sue me. 😛

…And yeah! That’s it! This was really more of a “I need a break from the story” than a “I just feel like playing Sims 2 for nostalgia” even though that certainly played into it. In fact, I was forming a story while this was going on… Grah. Inspiration…

But like the title says, this is a strictly non-canon (haha, does this story even qualify to HAVE non-canon stuff?) ending to their story. So yeah. Hope you enjoyed this little bonus peek into their incredi-boring sim lives. 😛
P.S. Since I used nothing for reference, I’m 90% sure that all of their eye colors are wrong. :\

 
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Posted by on October 10, 2012 in Manor Bonus

 

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Westmoreland Manor | Chapter 7, Part 3 of 3

Westmoreland Manor | Chapter 7, Part 3 of 3

Catherine had woken up that morning with her clothes neatly laid out for her on her dresser, a new white ribbon ready for her hair and a pair of those awful suede shoes next to the foot of the bed. She had looked at the clothes contemplatively before taking action.

Making sure that her door was locked, Catherine found a pair of scissors in the top right drawer of the dresser, a different dress in the bottom right, and a new pair of shoes in a box under the bed. She’d hacked at her hair, put on the dress and shoes, and was looking at herself in the mirror proudly. This felt right. Well, that wasn’t quite it – it didn’t feel completely right, but it certainly didn’t feel at all like what Mary Anne had set out for her, which pleased Catherine all the same. Yawning, she exited her room in search of someone else who was awake. The sun was just rising.

The house was eerily silent again. It was the same sort of silence as yesterday – not quite pure silence, but a sort of muffled quiet, as if she had earplugs in her ears. She wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably. Despite herself, she realized that she was walking towards her parents’ bedroom. Had she been much younger (not more than five, at least) she would’ve gone there from the children’s bedroom, which was right across the hall. Before she knew it, she was at the door.

She knocked softly, and when she received no response, her Victorian upbringing told her to wait. However, her instincts told her otherwise. She opened the door.

The room was empty.

Cat had expected as much. She closed the door again, wishing she could close the door on the nightmare that had become her unlife.

Jordan woke up in the children’s room, which had been converted into a guest bedroom due to the absence of real children in the house. He’d heard a noise like footsteps – being such a light sleeper was a blessing and a curse sometimes – and was sitting up in bed, head cocked to one side like a dog, listening for more movement. He heard the door across the hall open and close, then more footsteps, then silence. When the noise stopped, Jordan looked around.

He was confused to see that the beds around him were empty. The sun’s just risin’, wondered Jordan, did I miss somethin’? He got out of bed and dressed quickly in his afternoon suit. Last night, Westmoreland had said he was taking the lot out around the island on his personal ferry today. The Embry triplets had been sharing that room with Jordan, and out of modesty, they left the room to change. After thinking about those reasons, Jordan figured that the disappearance wasn’t so strange after all and let out a sigh of relief.

He made his way down to the dining room, expecting the others to be waiting for breakfast. The house was quiet. Jordan didn’t like it. He walked into the Turquoise Room for some entertainment before everyone woke up. He was surprised to bump into Catherine again.

“Whoa!” he said, grabbing Catherine’s arms gently to steady her. She looked frightened. “Hey there, something wrong?” He was secretly relieved to see the girl – it made the house seem a little less empty.

Catherine had been wandering around, looking for the others. She hadn’t had much luck, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to stay around any longer. Her worry had grown into fear, and her fear had grown into a sense of foreboding in the span of a few hours. Something bad was going to happen. Something bad was going to happen soon, and Catherine wanted no part of it.

“Jordan, we have to leave,” she said. She was certain of her words. “We have to leave this house now, and never come back. Do you understand me? We have to leave.” She was walking away as she said it, pulling Jordan with her. She was halfway to the door when Jordan finally pulled back.

“Cat, what’s the matter? Where are we going to go?” he asked. He was nearly as worried as she was. She grimaced.

“We’re leaving the island, Jordan. We have to.” And with that, she was out the door. Jordan hesitated, but after a second look around the large, empty main hall, he followed her.

It would have been so easy. Just three numbers – 911 – and the police would be on their way, sirens blaring, Westmoreland would be found in Sunlit Tides somewhere, sentenced to life in prison (or, more fittingly, death) and Charles and his family would be away from all of this forever.

There were only three problems. First was the validity of his story. Charles had seen firsthand the strange occurrences in the manor, and he knew they weren’t over yet. The outside world wouldn’t believe it so easily, though, especially the police. They’d think he was some kind of prank caller and he’d be just as trapped as he started off.

Secondly were Catherine and Jordan. They were dead, and this was true, but they were also Charles’ friends, and he wouldn’t leave until he was sure of what happened to them. He briefly shook his head. He was risking his own life for people who weren’t even alive – people he’d only just met!

The third problem made itself clear just now, when Caroline screamed upstairs.

Charles whirled around, eyes wide with fear. He ran in the direction of the noise, toward the blue bedroom. He reached the door just in time to hear Caroline let out a sob. “Mom!” he shouted, ripping open the door.

“What the…” Charles could hardly form words. For the umpteenth time since he’d arrived at the house, he was looking at Elinor’s corpse. She had a large wound in her stomach, one that looked like it was made by a shotgun. The wound was badly charred. She wasn’t bleeding.

“Ch-Charles… your father… I-I can’t f-f-find him,” Caroline stammered, grabbing onto her son. She sobbed, holding him close. Charles hugged his mother back. Where is Dad? he wondered. He knew his father was a bad man, but he couldn’t imagine him doing something like this. Caroline let go of her son and collected herself.

“We have to leave this island,” she said firmly. She pulled her suitcase out from under the bed and started throwing clothing into it wildly. “Charles, go straight to your room and pack your bags. Wait – call the police. Why didn’t I think of that first? Go to your room, and I’ll call the police.” She was shaking as she hurried out of the room. Charles took another look at Elinor’s body and obeyed his mother, hurrying straight to his room to pack.

Catherine found it strange that Jordan didn’t have a car, nor any memory of riding over to the house in one. However, she herself had no memory of her arrival to the manor, so she couldn’t blame him. The pair was running desperately down the road, cursing the hot sun but thankful for the paved road. It was one of the very few roads on Hulin Isle that actually had a sidewalk, which was even a rarity on the mainland.

Catherine was gasping for air when they reached the end of the road. Jordan came up behind her, panting. He may have been more athletic, but Cat had an energy that he couldn’t match. She slowed to a walk, then stopped entirely, not believing the scene before her eyes. Miles of ocean stretched beyond with no hint of the mainland in sight. The bridge itself was gone.

The pair realized with startling clarity that they were entirely cut off from the rest of the world.

 
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Posted by on October 8, 2012 in Manor Story

 

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Westmoreland Manor | Chapter 7, Part 2 of 3

Westmoreland Manor | Chapter 7, Part 2 of 3

[Note: Continued from the ending of Chapter 6.]

Charles stepped into the dark space behind the bookshelf. The air was much colder, and smelled strange, but he couldn’t place the scent. No sooner had Charles gotten his feet over the threshold than the bookshelf slid firmly shut behind him. The noise startled him, but he continued forward, throwing his hands blindly in front of himself. He panicked when his foot hit air, and he realized there was a spiral staircase in front of him, leading descending further into the earth. He clutched onto the curved railing and set out down the steps.

He walked slowly, listening to his footsteps clang on the metal stairs. It seemed like he had been walking for ages, but it was probably his imagination going wild, inventing monsters in the darkness. He wished he could be a little less imaginative. A faint purplish glow emanated from the space below, and Charles gasped in awe. A single bare light bulb lit the room with unearthly light, throwing a dull red cast over everything.

The room was full of corpses.

Decayed, dried bodies littered the floor, spread across the room unceremoniously. Skulls of the long dead were contorted into silently screaming masks; arms were folded across their brittle rib cages as if it was some sort of burial ground. Charles bent over and retched. The air was acrid with the scent of old death.

His first thought was to turn around and run up the stairs and out of this place, away from the entire house and the island altogether. This was the last straw… until he heard the voices.

He paused in the doorway, and clutched the sides of his head, falling to his knees in pain. He hadn’t realized it when he’d first entered the room, but hundreds of voices had been whispering in his head, and their whispers had grown to violent shouts in the span of a few seconds. The voices were pleading, helpless, and pitiful – but more noticeably than anything, angry. He could only pick out a few of them individually, that seemed the loudest. He recognized Elinor’s voice, screaming loudly about Walter’s lies and her broken heart. He picked out an elderly woman’s voice sobbing, wondering how she’d ended up in her current state. He heard a third voice. It sounded a lot like Jordan, but he couldn’t tell what he was saying… as it crawled closer to the stairs, the voices were fading.

He reached the bottom step, and set his hand out to touch it. The voices stopped instantly. He hadn’t realized that he was crawling until he shakily got to his feet, his hand clutching the railing of the stairs the whole way. He ran up the stairs and out of the basement without a look back, hoping he’d never have to hear those voices again.

The rest of the day passed quickly, but Charles’ unease was far from gone. On the contrary, he was becoming more and more afraid with every passing second he spent in the house. He knew that some of the spirits were kind – like Catherine, and Jordan (who he was absolutely certain was a ghost, just like the rest of them) – but he also was acutely aware of the more malevolent ones, like Elinor. He didn’t factor Mr. Westmoreland in as a ghost, since the man was still, technically speaking, alive.

The voices from earlier had faded, but as Charles slowly drifted to sleep, they came back as faint whispers swimming through his head. He tossed and turned, but his sleep was infected by the voices of the dead. When his sleep finally became peaceful, he dreamed.

Charles recognized where he was as Westmoreland Manor, but he wasn’t anywhere that he could normally get to. He felt like he was somewhere above, watching over the house. He couldn’t move (it was only a dream, after all) but he was able to sort of suggest where he wanted to go, and the dream seemed to take him there. Well, he thought, looks like I’m in for a ride. He was somewhat startled to see Catherine in the dining room, walking through nervously. If she hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have noticed that the entire mansion was empty. The dream swung his view toward the entrance hall. Wait! he shouted mentally, Go back! Cat, can you hear me?

It was no use. He was forced to watch as the doors swung open and Walter Westmoreland sauntered in with a crowd of people following him. Charles recoiled in horror and disgust. At least, he would have, if he’d been able to move. The dream seemed to carry him upwards, toward the ceiling, so that he could watch the scene unfold below him. A woman (seemingly the hostess, by the way the other women crowded around her) stepped briskly into the dining room, and Charles could hear her exclamations. She’d found Catherine. That must be Mrs. Westmoreland, he realized. However, the dream had no intention of letting him see his friend. He was swept down into the ballroom like a bird swooping down onto prey. Had he had any corporeal form, he probably would have been afraid, but he’d quickly become used to his immaterial form.

As Charles was planted firmly in the corner to watch the room, the stained glass doors of the ballroom burst open, and Walter and his friends walked in. One was a fat man with a beard, and the other was a skinny man who appeared to be wearing blush. Charles gasped when he realized who the third man was. He recognized his friend Jordan anywhere.

“Alright boys,” Walter started, “This is a party, and I only got one rule – no business talk ‘til it’s over!” It was clearly a joke, and the fat man and thin man laughed as if on cue. Jordan chuckled nervously, but looked incredibly out of place and more than a little uncomfortable. Charles wondered why he was there at all as a guest. Wasn’t he the cook?

Jordan shifted from foot to foot the entire time while Walter and the men laughed the night away. When the women came in, Jordan took a seat in the far corner. A tanned woman with a silver headband and dress did the same, but in the opposite corner. Neither of them looked very happy.

For that matter, Catherine didn’t either. She played the piano – it was a song Charles had never heard – and the rest of the guests sang along and laughed. It was no surprise to Charles that Walter laughed the loudest.

When the whole event was done and over with, the guests dispersed, leaving only Walter and his wife behind. They shared a quick kiss and some idle chatter, and the couple left, arm in arm. Walter shot a glance back at the corner where Charles was watching from. He knew that the older man couldn’t see him, but Charles was still unsettled, considering what had happened the last time he thought he was invisible. It’s only a dream, he thought, but he wasn’t so certain.

The dream lazily carried him into the dining room again, where Jordan and Catherine were talking. Charles was placed where his view of the pair was unobstructed – in other words, on the dining room table. “Now Cat, this might sound a little nutty, so bear with me… Do you know anybody named – anyone with the name Chuck, or Charlie, or somethin’?” Jordan said, obviously feeling uncomfortable. Charles’ eyes would’ve widened, but he was just a shade in this dream.

I’m here! he shouted. Of course he made no sound, so his efforts were fruitless. The teenage boy was going wild, trying to get their attention. Jordan! Cat! I’m right here, in front of you! Look at me! Catherine where did you go? Why can’t you hear me! I’m right here! He momentarily forgot that he was only in a dream and tried to go forward, but this prompted another change in position. He was now above the pair, facing downward. He noticed tendrils of black at either side of his field of vision. Oh, no.

Jordan had noticed it too, and was clutching Catherine for dear life. The shapes snaked their way across the floor, the wall, the ceiling – everywhere. Charles struggled in his phantasmal form and managed to shift a few inches toward the way out. Let them go! he shouted mentally. The tendrils covered the archway in a haphazard fashion, like vines growing between tree trunks in a jungle. He wanted Jordan and Cat to be safe, they were both his friends, and Catherine was more, maybe – but this wasn’t the time for that. Even in a dream, he wouldn’t let them be hurt.

The tendrils whipped at them, and lashed out violently. Charles pushed through the shadows. They burned like hell, but his concern was getting the pair out safely. He broke into a full sprint toward the archway, and the darkness closed in on him. Let them go! he shouted again. Surprisingly, he got a response.

Alright, said a voice that sounded very similar to the voice that Charles thought in, but much more sinister.

All at once the darkness began to recede from the archway. A path was cleared from the couch to the door, and after a moment or two, they got up quickly and left the room. Jordan looked terrified. Cat looked puzzled.

And all at once the dream was over. Charles woke up groggily in his bed, but something seemed off. He rolled over and realized that Caroline was sitting in the chair beside his bed. She’d fallen asleep. “Mom!?” he said, incredulous. She awoke with a start, and looked at him sheepishly. “Mom, what are you doing in here!?” he asked, jumping out of bed. He blushed when he remembered that he wore underwear to bed. Caroline didn’t take any notice.

“Oh… sorry Charlie. You were shouting in your sleep last night, and I was worried… I came up here to check on you, but you just kept shouting and… I wanted to make sure you were okay. I guess I fell asleep on the job, huh?” she smiled a kind smile and got up, going toward the door. “I guess I should give you some privacy. I guess Jordan must’ve taken the day off, so I’m making pancakes for breakfast. They’ll be ready when you come downstairs.” She paused in the doorway, and turned around.

“Sweetie,” she started, “I don’t want to intrude, but you’re my son, and I was wondering…” She smiled a knowing smile. Charles didn’t like it. “Who’s this Catherine girl? Do I know her? Is she your girlfriend? You can tell me, you know. I won’t tell your dad if you don’t want him to know.” She tried to hide her giggle and failed when she saw that Charles was blushing beet red.

“I – I don’t know what you’re talking about! Ugh, just go already!” he said, embarrassed. His mother left the room with a smile, but it faded quickly. She was worried about her family – or, she was worried about her son at least. She hadn’t checked on Paul this morning (she had decided that he would be sleeping in a spare room from now on), but then again, she didn’t care so much about him anymore. The past few weeks had numbed her completely toward him.

Charles wasn’t in a good mood at all. His dream had left him more tired than anything. He was worried about Catherine from the Red Room event, and since Jordan was now missing, he was worried about him, too. They hadn’t spoken much recently, but he still felt that they were friends. After a moment of deep thought, he pulled on some clothes and went downstairs. He didn’t know where to look next. He had no idea who or what had the answers, and wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

 
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Posted by on October 2, 2012 in Manor Story

 

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What Do I Do?

So I have a pretty big problem.

The game itself has been giving me problems since the last update (whether I’m just playing it or doing anything) and it’s specifically been having trouble with saves and freezing up. I don’t know what’s up with that.

Anyways, long story short, I went in to take the pictures for the new update, and the game crashed on me. When I came back again, I tried saving (for whatever reason, this seemed like a good idea). The save Error 12’d on me, so I quit and came back later, hoping some cool down time would do something. The save file was no longer there.

So I’m asking: is there ANY WAY to get that file back? I’m kinda worried, mostly because if I have to do that again I didn’t back anything up but the house (thank the Lord I backed that up because it took a couple of days to build).

Any advice is appreciated. 😦

 

EDIT: The problem was solved! I copied the .backup and .bad files, removed the .bad extension and just pasted it back into the saves folder. It showed up again with no problems and I got the pictures without a hitch. The next update is soon… 🙂

 
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Posted by on October 1, 2012 in Manor Bonus

 

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Westmoreland Manor | Chapter 7 (Part 1 of 3) w/Bonus!

Westmoreland Manor | Chapter 7 (Part 1 of 3) w/Bonus!

[Note: Continued from the ending of Chapter 6.]

Catherine jumped when she heard the front door open. In the silence of the house, the noise was like a shotgun going off next to her ear. As quietly as she could, she hurried over toward the bar in the dining room and hid, watching the main hall through the archway.

Walter Westmoreland walked through, laughing raucously with a crowd following him. Mary Anne followed, looking radiant and joyous, surrounded by gossipy women who giggled with her every word. Mary Anne looked around briefly. “Catherine, darling, we’re home! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” she called in a singsong voice. Catherine went rigid with fear. She knew the clothing – she’d seen firsthand what the fashion of the twenties had looked like, and had wanted no part of it – but she did not recall Mary Anne or herself being alive in that time. The closest that either female had gotten to living was possessing Walter’s mistress, Marta – and that had only been Annie. The crowd was stopped in the main hall, chatting up a storm and filling the house with noise.

“Come on, Cathy, you’re going to miss the party!” Walter yelled. It was only about nine of them altogether, but Catherine could hardly hear him. She was breathing rapidly, confused by what she was seeing. What in the name of God is going on!? she thought. Charles… where are you?

She was startled when she felt hands under her arms, pulling her into a standing position. “Catherine Rose Westmoreland! What are you doing kneeling on the floor in your white stockings!?” Mary Anne scolded. She clucked her tongue and gave a wan smile to the women. “Sorry, girls, my daughter still likes to pretend, even at 18,” she said, shooting a glance at Catherine. “Kitty Cat, meet my friends – the Embry triplets, Julia, Judith, and Juniper, and my cousin, Marta.”

Catherine had to stop herself from curtseying. Old habits die hard.

 

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Catherine said politely, feeling ill. One of the triplets – the one Annie had called Juniper – pulled out a fan and started fanning the teenage girl. “Lordy Lou, you look pale as a sheet! Are you feeling alright?” she asked. Her voice reminded Catherine of a chipmunk. The other two triplets surrounded the girl, but seemed disinterested. Catherine felt that Juniper’s worry was genuine, but she still didn’t like it. Marta stood back and picked at a hangnail.

“Oh, girls, I’m sure she’s fine,” dismissed Mary Anne. “Let’s head to the ballroom, shall we? I’m sure the boys want to get the party started.” She gently took Catherine by the elbow. “Let’s go, Kitty Cat, Walt’s been telling the boys about your skills on the ivory all day. And don’t be so shy, it’s not a real party, just a little get-together with some friends. Don’t be a bore, now.” She giggled to herself, and whispered something to Marta. Marta started laughing loudly.

Catherine wondered just what hell she’d stumbled into.

The party only lasted around three hours, and it appeared that a few of the guests were staying the night in one of the guest bedrooms. Specifically, the overnighters were the Embry triplets and Walter’s friend, Jordan White. Catherine had recognized Jordan instantly at the party, but he either hadn’t noticed her or hadn’t cared to speak. She figured it was the latter, since he seemed more introverted than the other guests at the party.

Catherine had retreated to the dining room while the rest of the guests left. She was crying for reasons she couldn’t explain, and it made her angry with herself. She rubbed her tears away with her fists like a child. She was feeling so many emotions that she wasn’t able to contain herself. She let out a quiet sob, and looked up suddenly when she heard footsteps.

Jordan had heard her, and came looking for her once he was sure all of the guests had either left or retreated to the guest bedrooms. He quietly walked over to Catherine, who promptly stood up and curtseyed again. Stop doing that! she screamed to herself in her head.

Jordan chuckled. “Don’t worry, darlin’, I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he said, taking a seat at the couch. Catherine looked at her shoes. Apparently, in this reality, Jordan wasn’t the hired help. She wondered if Edna, their old chef, was still alive, too. So many things were different here!

Jordan looked as if he was going to say something, but thought better of it. He smiled instead. “Cat – yes, I know you’re name, don’t gimme that look – I have a question for ya,” he started. He looked troubled, and Catherine waited patiently while he sorted out his words.

“What is it, Mr. White?” she asked politely. Jordan laughed again.

“I think a two-year age difference oughta give ya the right to call me Jordan, don’tcha think?” he said. His face turned solemn again. “Now Cat, this might sound a little nutty, so bear with me…” He cleared his throat. “Do you know anybody named – anyone with the name Chuck, or Charlie, or somethin’?” He shifted nervously on the uncomfortable seat.

Catherine’s eyes widened and she put a hand to her mouth to hide her surprise. All she could do was nod. Yes! Of course I do! she cheered in her mind. Jordan looked relieved.

“And here I was thinkin’ I was crazy,” he said, chuckling again. “See, somethin’ told me to come see you, seein’ as yer folks wouldn’t know nothin’ about him.” He scratched his head absently. “Course, I wouldn’t know just how I knew that. It’s like somebody’s plantin’ thoughts in my brain! Ain’t that just the darnedest thing?”

Catherine could’ve kissed him. “I… so I’m not insane?” was all she could manage. Jordan gave a her a look, as if to say ‘I wouldn’t go that far’. She ignored it. “Jordan, if you remember Charles, do you remember anything else about the… about the other house?” she asked tentatively. Jordan’s brow furrowed in thought, but he shook his head.

“All I know is that someone was telling me that I oughta be seein’ you and askin’ about Chuck. I’m not even sure I know who Chuck is!” he said. He was frustrated.

It was then that Catherine noticed their surroundings. Her breath caught in her throat, and she clutched Jordan’s arm and sank onto the couch next to him. Jordan looked around, confused, and then he saw it.

Dark tendrils were snaking their way from the ceiling, the floor, and seemingly any available crevice in the room towards the pair on the couch. Jordan was terrified. He held on to Catherine almost more than she was him. The tendrils writhed and slithered across the surfaces, getting close, but not quite touching the two. “What’s going on!?” cried Catherine. Jordan braced himself against the wall, his mouth agape. Catherine hadn’t expected an answer, but she got one.

“Perhaps,” said a voice that sounded as if it was coming from the house itself, “you two should be going your separate ways.” The voice was odd in that it sounded very similar to the voice that Catherine thought in, but with a much more sinister tone. The tendrils parted just far enough so that Jordan and Catherine could exit the room single file. Where the tendrils accidently touched their skin, they burned like fire.

The two said good night to one another, but said nothing more. They went to opposite ends of the house to prepare for bed. Despite their obedience of the mysterious voice, Catherine had no intention of staying away from Jordan for very long. Especially since he seemed to know about Charles… and the other Westmoreland Manor.

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Yay! Super excited to have part 1 out. Now for parts 2 and 3, and then we can move on to Chapter 8… I have so much planned. It might seem all over the place right now, but TRUST ME, there is indeed a method to my madness. Also… I decided to include the trivia/bloopers with the chapter this time, so I’m not posting constantly unless it’s a real chapter. 😀

FIRST UP…

 

This is really a blooper per se… BUT it sure shocked me when I went in to make Annie over for her 1923 clothes. Any idea what causes this? Cause I sure don’t know!

 

Those pants + That pose + Jordan = Either cute or creepy. I really couldn’t decide. Also, his expression is only semi-right in this picture. He kept pulling the “I’M SO HAPPEH” face when he was supposed to be terrified. -_-

 

Introductions! She got no picture time in this chapter, but she’s pretty major later on (or was pretty major? Idk). This is Marta Shipman, who in the other Westmoreland Manor (if you recall) was Walt’s old mistress that other Annie possessed for a time. However, in Catherine’s current manor, she’s Annie’s bestie. Go figure.

And last, but not least, I leave you with this picture of Judith/Julia with her back broken. Seriously, what’s going on there? Maybe the mesh messed up? Also, there is Annie in the back in her 20s gear, ready to Charleston back to Charleston or whatever it is those crazy cats do. 😛

Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment! 😀

 
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Posted by on September 26, 2012 in Manor Bonus, Manor Story

 

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Teaser: Chapter 7, Pt. 1

I couldn’t resist! Super excited about this chapter. It’s in two parts for easier chewing. :3

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“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Catherine said, feeling ill. One of the triplets – the one Annie had called Juniper – pulled out a fan and started fanning the teenage girl. “Lordy Lou, you look pale as a sheet! Are you feeling alright?” she asked. The other two triplets surrounded the girl, treating her with equal concern. Catherine felt that their worry was genuine, but she still didn’t like it. Marta stood back and picked at a hangnail.

 

“Oh, girls, I’m sure she’s fine,” dismissed Mary Anne. “Let’s head to the ballroom, shall we? I’m sure the boys want to get the party started.” She gently took Catherine by the elbow. “Let’s go, Kitty Cat, Walt’s been telling the boys about your skills on the ivory all day.” She giggled to herself, and whispered something to Marta. Marta started laughing loudly.

 

Catherine wondered just what hell she’d stumbled into.

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Gah! I have so much planned, I can’t even contain it. See ya later! 😀

 
1 Comment

Posted by on September 24, 2012 in Manor Bonus

 

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