Brienwood Manor Chapter 1
Posted: Thu Oct 28, 2010 5:11 pm
BRIANWOOD MANOR
CHAP 1
Storm clouds loomed on the horizen as I tooled down the winding highway towards the quaint little village known as Tylorville. It was a very old town, perhaps one of the oldest in the state of Maine. A strang place. A place that many have never heard of, and those who have knew very little other then the fact that it existed. According to the history I read on it, it enjoyed a very brief time of prosperity when a local textile business boomed, but the business failed shortly after the death of it's founder and owner, Nathaniel Pennington. In fact, it was his mansion I had recently purchased and was moving into. Stories of hauntings about the old place abounded. I guess that's part of the reason why I bought the place. It's a 40 room mansion, that was built in the mid 1850s. It was situated on top a high cliff over looking the Atlantic Ocean. There was aslo a small private cemetery where most of Mr Pennington's relatives were burried. He, himself occupied a crypt, the only crypt in that grave yard.
The price of the house and property was quite reasonable. A little better then 30% of what the property was actualy worth. I don't know if it was the strange stories that got it down so cheap, or if it was just that it was hard to sell, but the bargain I got was almost too good to be true. There were a few legal detales that had to be worked out at the lawyers office, and then tomorrow I could take possesion of the property and set up house keeping. I arrived into town around 9:00 pm. The sun had gone down, and there was a chill in the mid October air. I decided to take a room at a local hotel for the night. Luckily there was one left. It was a quaint old 'bed & breakfast.' The room was small, but very nicely kept. I had been on my bike all day, so a good nights' sleep was just what the proverbial doctor ordered. I had dinner, one of the finest Maine see food meals I ever ate, and then I turned in early.
The next morning, I awoke, dressed and went down for my breakfast. "Good morning Mr. O'Malley" the waitress said. "Good Morning," I replied. I odrered my break fast and the waitress wrote it down in her note book and walked off. The food came, and I was pretty hungry. I ate, and then paid my bill. "Planning on staying long Mr. O'Malley?" asked the cashieer. "I'm moing here permanantly" I Replied. "How nice" said the cashieer. So what part of town?" The cashier asked. "I just bought the Pennington place. Brienwood Manor, I think the place was called. Anyway, I have a few erends to run, and today I finaly move in." A frightened look came over the face of the cashier. The whole dining area grew quiet and all eyes were on me. The waitress all stopped in their tracks. "I will pray for you sir, and if you will pardon me for being so forward, I think you should forget about it. Nobody has ever been able to live in that house. It's an evil, horible place, where the dead are not at rest." I did not know what to say to him in response. I didn't want to insult the guy, so I thought I would try to lighten things up. "Well, I sort of already sunk a heap of mondy intot he place already. Besides, ghosts don't like me verymuch." "Just the same," answered the cashier, "stay away from Brienwood Manor. It's not safe.
I paid my bill and headed for tha atturney's office, Healy and Bradford. Mr. Healy himself was handling all the transactions. I arrived at his office, and signed the documents needed, and then it was finaly time for me to enter my new residence for the first time as the owner. I got on my bike and headed down the road. I was to look for a small paved drive way that lead up to the old place on the outskirts of Tylorville. It was hard to find, but I did actualy see it off to my left. I turned onto it and headed towards the house.
The huge mansion loomed off in the distance. As I pulled up the main drive in front of the house, I was greeted by the groundskeeper. "Go away" he seid. "Go away. This is private property." I showed him the douments and explained who I was after I got off the bike. When I removed my helmet, it was then that I noticed what a wierd looking old fellow this guy was. His hair was grey his cloths looked like something out of the Victorian era, and his manorisms were polite, but rather aloof. He appeared as though he were a man of about 60 years of age. There was a tremmor to his voice when he spoke, as though he suffered a life time of frights or torment. I told him who I was, and he quuickly excused himself and went back to work.
I walked up to the ornate structure that was to be my home. I inserted the key and opened up the front door. I stood in awe in my new castle, feeling that I had made a great deal. I was happy to be home at last.
CHAP 1
Storm clouds loomed on the horizen as I tooled down the winding highway towards the quaint little village known as Tylorville. It was a very old town, perhaps one of the oldest in the state of Maine. A strang place. A place that many have never heard of, and those who have knew very little other then the fact that it existed. According to the history I read on it, it enjoyed a very brief time of prosperity when a local textile business boomed, but the business failed shortly after the death of it's founder and owner, Nathaniel Pennington. In fact, it was his mansion I had recently purchased and was moving into. Stories of hauntings about the old place abounded. I guess that's part of the reason why I bought the place. It's a 40 room mansion, that was built in the mid 1850s. It was situated on top a high cliff over looking the Atlantic Ocean. There was aslo a small private cemetery where most of Mr Pennington's relatives were burried. He, himself occupied a crypt, the only crypt in that grave yard.
The price of the house and property was quite reasonable. A little better then 30% of what the property was actualy worth. I don't know if it was the strange stories that got it down so cheap, or if it was just that it was hard to sell, but the bargain I got was almost too good to be true. There were a few legal detales that had to be worked out at the lawyers office, and then tomorrow I could take possesion of the property and set up house keeping. I arrived into town around 9:00 pm. The sun had gone down, and there was a chill in the mid October air. I decided to take a room at a local hotel for the night. Luckily there was one left. It was a quaint old 'bed & breakfast.' The room was small, but very nicely kept. I had been on my bike all day, so a good nights' sleep was just what the proverbial doctor ordered. I had dinner, one of the finest Maine see food meals I ever ate, and then I turned in early.
The next morning, I awoke, dressed and went down for my breakfast. "Good morning Mr. O'Malley" the waitress said. "Good Morning," I replied. I odrered my break fast and the waitress wrote it down in her note book and walked off. The food came, and I was pretty hungry. I ate, and then paid my bill. "Planning on staying long Mr. O'Malley?" asked the cashieer. "I'm moing here permanantly" I Replied. "How nice" said the cashieer. So what part of town?" The cashier asked. "I just bought the Pennington place. Brienwood Manor, I think the place was called. Anyway, I have a few erends to run, and today I finaly move in." A frightened look came over the face of the cashier. The whole dining area grew quiet and all eyes were on me. The waitress all stopped in their tracks. "I will pray for you sir, and if you will pardon me for being so forward, I think you should forget about it. Nobody has ever been able to live in that house. It's an evil, horible place, where the dead are not at rest." I did not know what to say to him in response. I didn't want to insult the guy, so I thought I would try to lighten things up. "Well, I sort of already sunk a heap of mondy intot he place already. Besides, ghosts don't like me verymuch." "Just the same," answered the cashier, "stay away from Brienwood Manor. It's not safe.
I paid my bill and headed for tha atturney's office, Healy and Bradford. Mr. Healy himself was handling all the transactions. I arrived at his office, and signed the documents needed, and then it was finaly time for me to enter my new residence for the first time as the owner. I got on my bike and headed down the road. I was to look for a small paved drive way that lead up to the old place on the outskirts of Tylorville. It was hard to find, but I did actualy see it off to my left. I turned onto it and headed towards the house.
The huge mansion loomed off in the distance. As I pulled up the main drive in front of the house, I was greeted by the groundskeeper. "Go away" he seid. "Go away. This is private property." I showed him the douments and explained who I was after I got off the bike. When I removed my helmet, it was then that I noticed what a wierd looking old fellow this guy was. His hair was grey his cloths looked like something out of the Victorian era, and his manorisms were polite, but rather aloof. He appeared as though he were a man of about 60 years of age. There was a tremmor to his voice when he spoke, as though he suffered a life time of frights or torment. I told him who I was, and he quuickly excused himself and went back to work.
I walked up to the ornate structure that was to be my home. I inserted the key and opened up the front door. I stood in awe in my new castle, feeling that I had made a great deal. I was happy to be home at last.
