Underneath a now abandoned old mansion, in the city of Ocotia, lies secrets better left forgotten. The old lord of the manor, Lord Melville, was a recluse. He had inherited his riches after his parents’ mysterious disappearance. He was an only child. His father was a successful merchant and his mother took care of Melville at home. They were loving, pious people, and cared deeply about their son, whom they thought the world of. They struggled to punish him effectively, however, and from an early age Melville had picked up a knack for hurting others; from cats to other children, Melville seemed to enjoy the suffering of those around him. He also often lit things on fire in the home. His parents, choosing to turn a blind eye to their son’s devious tendencies, only exacerbated the problem. Melville soon began taking more risks, and when he was 12 he burnt down the local church. When Melville was caught his parents had enough money and influence to make the story disappear, and so Melville escaped the consequences of his actions, a moral lesson that would inform his twisted pathology throughout his life.
At the age of 17 Melville’s parents mysteriously disappeared, and he became Lord Melville of Wickham Manor, an impressive stone construct, the edifice of which loomed far above its neighbours’ at three stories high. It is not clear exactly when a basement was built, but soon after Melville became lord it is surmised that he ordered its construction. It is clear from plans found after Melville’s death that this underground area was intricate, filled with confusing dead ends and numerous traps that would surely thwart the exploration of any outsider. What lies within this basement remains entirely undocumented. Reportedly no one besides Melville and perhaps a few servants had been down there, and the basement has remained undiscovered since his passing. Its effect on the manor, however, has not gone unnoticed. Whatever Melville had been doing in the secret catacombs underneath his property had, according to legend, left behind an evil curse. Melville had no descendents, had never been married, and had no family to which he left his estate. After his passing, the manor passed through many owners’ hands, but none stayed long, for the curse left behind on the house was terrifying. According to several different accounts, people staying in the home would have horrific nightmares every night that made it impossible to rest, experience an overall constant state of dread throughout the day, would see humanoid figures appear behind them frequently, and would hear strange whispers that seemed to come from beneath on the ground floor. No one ever rediscovered the entrance to the basement, but the supposed curse on the manor and the secrecy with which Lord Melville had conducted his affairs within the basement seemed too coincidental to not be linked. As such, the house has now been left uninhabited for 67 years. The structure is surrounded by once lush gardens that now lay bare and sickly, as though death itself has infested the land of the property.
Melville’s finally diary entry left deep within twists and turns he had built over a century ago gives an insight into his activities there:
4th Dyer 956
I have not slept in three days. All of my work has led up to this point; all the bloodshed, all the tears… I know not what comes next, but I fear it, for it is certainly the end of what I have dedicated my life to. I am shaking with anticipation.
YES! YES!!! IT WORKED. My genius is unparalleled. I have successfully animated them. I can finally breathe calmly. They are, admittedly, a bit more grotesque than I had planned, but looking at them I cannot help but see beauty. My aptitude in the art of preservation was amateur at best when I started this journey, but my work has withstood the test of time, without too much decay.
The Animator. That is the title by which I wish to be remembered. If anyone ever lays eyes upon my discovery, know that you have witnessed something truly spectacular. It is, of course, magical in nature, making it illegal, but I suppose that is why the idea enticed me in the first place; sometimes forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest. I can now die in peace, my thirst finally quenched; my intense desire for the supernatural satiated.
Finally, I would like to thank my mother and father for participating in my research project. I have always loved you and always will. Thank you for your sacrifice.