The Lost Princess

Leather Bound

The large leather-bound book weighs heavy as I drag it to my desk. Under the light of my lamp, I pull it open to the first page. The pages are old and yellow words etched in dark black ink read 'Moore Manor 1850'.

    I had known the Moore Manor was the oldest building in Crestview the original family had built their fortune off the sea and surrounding lands. According to my history textbook, the families who lived in Crestview all worked for Moore. And as the Moore's grew financially so did the land they owned and the people they employed.

    Careful of the worn pages I turned to the section of the book. A black and white photo sat glued to the paper an image of a family staring emotionlessly forward. The photograph highly resembled the oil painting that hangs in the living room downstairs except that instead of two there were three children. 

    The oldest is a girl holding hands with a boy, her brother, who barely reached her elbow. Behind them sat a young woman holding a baby dressed in a small dress. Standing to the woman's right was a man in his early forties holding an unlit pipe with one hand at his hip. The inscription below read, 'Carter and Elizabeth Moore, Catherine (12) Jamison (9), and baby Sarah. 1852.'

    Turning to the next page my leg hits against the bottom of my desk, to my surprise a letter jostles out from within the pages. 

    'Kind sir, we've arrived safe and sound. I fear that this is not to their liking. Sarah was nearly beheaded on the ride here and father says we shall return home within the hour. Tell me, what lies have they begun to spread?

    Ever yours, Catherine E. Moore'

    The letter is short with no mention for who it's for or even if whoever it was meant for received it. A tiny drawing of a wolf in the corner sending a chill down my spine. The Moore crest is a great black wolf standing atop a shield its eyes a piercing red. 

    Why would anyone leave a scrapbook on my bed? Better question, who left it?

    "Rats exist within these walls. As my butler, it is your job to be rid of them. Can I trust you?"

    The old wood creaks and I look around me feeling my blood go cold. Shaking my head I shut the book and stand. I mustn't let Eloise's ramblings get to me. Otherwise, neither of us will be able to work.

    Just as I'm about to get into bed my attention is snapped to my door. A white slip of paper slides under the wood and I jump towards it. Throwing open my door I look down both sides of the hallway but spot nothing. 

    Okay, maybe these rats do exist.

    Lifting up the slip of paper I pull it open and feel a darker chill travel up my spine.

    'Secrets are best kept when one knows to keep their mouths shut?'

    Closing my door I make sure to lock it and return to the book. Hastily I flip through the pages there are more photographs, Catherine, Jamison, and Sarah all much older. The next photo more morbid.

    'As we lay to rest our beloved Sarah we pray she may one day find peace with god'

    The image is a mature looking Catherine, she holds up what appears to be Sarah's corpse. On the other side Jamison sits his eyes b****y no doubt from tears. 

    Catherine looks stone-faced and unnerved.

    'Kind sir, what holiness is this. That my dear younger sister should die before she knows the love of a man or the beauty of birth?  I cast all blame to them, they who have sought to destroy my family. Well no more, I shall plead my case with father. Should he disagree I shall know what to do.

    Ever yours, Catherine E. Moore.'

    The next image is only Catherine. She sits in what appears to be a study her gaze steely with determination. I'm stuck on her image as she reminds of Eloise, except she seems to be a much healthier version of her. The inscription reads; 'Catherine E. Moore (19) 1859'.

    Under that in Catherine's writing scribbled hastily is a note.

    'Robin, tell me, does the pain end after death? Or should I expect to suffer?

    Hopelessly yours, Catherine.'

    The next page is a drawing of what appears to be floor plans. I recognize the entrance to the Moore manor as well as a few of the rooms since I surveyed them for repairs earlier. Written in the margins are some faded words and a phrase that needs no interpretations.

    Spies in the walls.

    'Rats in the walls.'

    Eloise was right. There is someone watching what goes on in the house.

    My gaze slides to the wallpapered wall in front of me. Had they placed this book on my bed? But why? It doesn't matter. I flip through the next few pages to find similar crudely drawn floor plans. There's even a page for the elusive fourth floor...

    Closing the book I clutch it to my chest and bring it to my bed. I've seen enough paranormal films to know that if I leave it on my desk it won't be there when I wake up. Tomorrow rather than repairs it seems I'll be going through the house. Every inch is in need of inspection.

    Placing the book under my pillow I close my eyes and attempt to sleep.

                                                                                                    #

I bring Eloise her breakfast and medicine clutching beneath the tray the large leather book. Her gaze follows me as I take a seat beside her bed.

    "So what have you brought me?" She eyes the book curiously.

    I hold it out for her, "I was wondering if you could tell me."

    She takes it flipping to a random page. Her finger draws softly over the paper and a small smile fits across her features. 

    "I never thought I'd see this again."

    "You mean to say you didn't leave it on my bed?" I ask.

    "I can't walk Jonas," She says closing the book with a soft thud. "Not as well as I used to anyway."

    "Are you really sick? I mean no one's seen or heard of you for ten years. But I'm sure it was you I saw that day I stood outside the gates." I wave to her blankets. "But you claim not to be able to walk. What's the truth?"

    She shakes her head handing me the book, "Have you done as I asked?"

    "No but--"

    "Then I shall take my breakfast, and afterwards you shall do your job." She smiles at me again before turning to her meal a harsh frown etching itself on her features. "Please do it quickly."

    With shaky fingers, she lifts the spoon to her mouth and I watch her force herself to swallow. After her coughing fit, I help soothe her and lay her back down so she may nap. Then I exit, I place the lamp back on its spot at the table and enter a brighter part of the hallway pulling open the floor plans I decided to start on the first floor. It's time to do away with the rats.