Chapter Text
Ghosts of the Past
By Victor Peterson
Published in Wisconsin, January 16th, XXXX.
Salut my dear reader, I am Victor Peterson, the author of this book. I am very pleased that you decided to pick this book of hundreds of others. Now all of my life I’ve been interested in the paranormal, the supernatural, the unseen. And when I was 13-years-old I saw my first ever ghost in the woods. Ever since I’ve tried to find and experience that same moment and I’ve somewhat succeeded. I present you that moment and what the ghosts have told me themselves.
Vengeful Ghost of the Blumwell Estate
Blumwell Estate, a mansion in the middle of the woods, located in XXXXXX. Known by many different names and habited by many ghosts, was one of the more fascinating and active places. Known to the locals, who remember it anyway, as simply as ’Ghost Mansion’ or ’the Estate’.
The estate is very beautiful despite its old and rigid appearance. The yard, even if in decay, is large and hauntingly beautiful with its marble statues of fallen angels and dark nymphs. The house has four floors and a basement, and the locals have said it was breathtaking in its prime time. And what I’ve seen from pictures it was very breath-taking indeed.
The estate was first built during 17th century by Mister Scott Avington after him and his wife Sarah moved to America. Mr. Avington wanted a perfect house to his wife and future children. The estate was then called Avington Estate after the family that had built it. Now in the last chapters, I have talked about the previous owners of this magnificent estate and the list hasn’t ended yet.
Now when I first stepped into this magnificent place, I got a rather violent welcome call by a rather angry ghost. A young lady dressed in white, hate filling her face as she saw me. Of course, she wasn’t the first willing to talk to me and it was a long time until I got her to speak to me and to tell her story.
Her name is Miss (Y/N) Blumwell-Wolff and she’s a very aggressive ghost. She is driven by one and only thing; revenge.
Now (Y/N) was born on July 24th, 1855 to a wealthy family of four. There was her mother Mrs. Ruby Wolff-Erinsonn, her father Mr. Erik Wolff, her older step-brother Pietro Wolff and her older step-sister Wanda Wolff. (Y/N) was rather happy with her family but some of them didn’t feel the same. Mr. Wolff wanted a boy, Pietro didn’t want another sibling at all, and Wanda didn’t want another girl into the house. Mrs. Wolff was the only one that was happy with (Y/N)’s birth.
(Y/N)'s childhood was nothing special. Since her father was highly respected in the social circles, (Y/N) learned how to read and write. Her siblings, however, hated her. They bullied (Y/N) constantly, teasing her, pushing her around and hurting her when one was around. Her father, Mr. Wolff, didn’t like the fact that (Y/N) wasn’t as special as his other children. While Pietro could hunt with grace and Wanda paint elegantly, (Y/N) wasn’t special at all. It wasn’t until she had taken her first ballet class, her parents had found her true calling; dancing. This made Wanda quite jealous since she wasn’t the main star in the family. So, the bullying continued.
So, when (Y/N) was 18-years-old, she got married to Mr. Matthew Blumwell, a very wealthy businessman in XXXXXX. He was an out-right royal with his wealth and was taken by (Y/N), her beauty and grace- if you could say it, had captivated him at the first glance. So, he asked her hand and got it, Mr. Wolff was happy to get rid of his youngest daughter and so Mr. Blumwell and (Y/N) got married and moved to an estate in XXXXXX. (Y/N) was wary of her new husband, she could sense darkness lurking beneath the surface. For the first two years, their life was full of joy and the newly-couple was happy. Yet, Mr. Blumwell wanted an heir. An heir that wouldn’t be born or wasn’t even given a chance to be born.
In to the third year of their marriage, trouble began. Mr. Blumwell started gambling away their money and became less than pleased with his new wife’s infertility. He became loud and handsy with (Y/N). In (Y/N)’s own words;” My situation became more and more... unpleasant as the days went on. He drank more and more until his... rage blew up”.
So, on a rainy night of October 13th, 1876 Miss (Y/N), now 21-years-old, came home with her husband. He was angry, angry at the world that didn’t give him what he wanted. That was the night when she died, (Y/N) told me. She never specified what happened to her but looking at her, I knew what had happened.
Her body was twisted, contorted. There were bruises everywhere. She was missing her right eye and on her left side of the face was a gaping hole, exposing her teeth. She stared at me with her vacant (e/c) eye, her pupil was white from being dead. Back of her dress was ripped from the back, showing those awful slashes that only a belt could make.
As I was leaving this beautiful yet rotten house, (Y/N) stopped to stare at the grand staircase. Her vacant eyes became even more cloudy and I had to stop and stare with her.
"The stairs” When I asked her to clarify, she just had this neutral expression.
“The stairs have to be cleaned…” I looked at the stairs and I could faintly see something staining the once clean marble floor.
“What is it?” I asked. I was almost scared to ask what the substance is, but I felt I already knew what it was.
“My blood.” Was the only thing that the beautiful ghost said and faded away almost as she never existed.
The old rundown Estate holds many secrets in its nooks and crannies and even drastic backstories of its numerous ghosts. Perhaps one day they can pass on.