JJ led the way as they ventured through the manor. Grace was close behind him, gripping his hand tightly as he practically tugged her along.
"This place smells like dead bodies," John B commented.
She grimaced at the thought but couldn't disagree.
The inside of the house could only be described as decrepit, somehow more so than the exterior. The fancy wallpaper that had once adorned the rooms was peeled back past the point of recognition, leaving the walls with a sad grey tone. The floorboards creaked under every step, as if the house was whining in protest at the parade of shoes. Dust coated each and every piece of antique furniture, dulling the once vibrant colours of upholstery. The only lighting was a few dim lamps scattered throughout, just bright enough to make out the vast clutter but too dark to get a good look at any details in particular.
"I'll let Wes know you're here," Chandler said after their stroll through the halls had concluded.
The hinges wailed as he pulled open the doors to a drawing room, leading the Pogues in behind him.
"Come in. Please, please, warm yourselves by the fire," Wes said in his gruff voice as the teens traipsed into his den.
"I apologize for dragging you all out here," Wes continued, "But I... I don't think I could speak about this in public."
The group hesitantly sat down on the springy sofas, Grace keeping her fingers firmly intertwined with JJ's as she sat down beside him.
"I know I mentioned Blackbeard," he said, gesturing to a portrait of the intrepid pirate, "but I assure you all, my interest is not for treasure."
They shared curious looks with one another.
"My ancestor, Francis Genrette, was the British officer who caught and killed the notorious pirate."
"Wait. Your direct ancestor?" Pope thought aloud.
Wes hummed in affirmation. "Yes, unfortunately. After he'd beheaded Blackbeard, he killed the pirate's wife, Elizabeth," he gestured to yet another portrait, "And since then, for 300 years, generations of Genrettes have been haunted by Elizabeth's ghost and have died violent deaths, including my daughter."
Grace looked up at JJ, concern written all over her face. She wasn't the most superstitious person ever, but this whole experience was really making her question that.
Wes glanced solemnly up at a painting of his daughter. She was a beautiful blonde, her dignity stretching beyond the canvas. "Larissa, Chandler's wife. My daughter saw Elizabeth a week before she died. Now... I've had a visitation."
From the look on JJ's face, Grace could tell he was finding the whole thing ridiculous. Despite this, her skin couldn't help but crawl. The rest of the Pogues seemed to be sharing in her feeling.
"So I know I don't have much time," Wes finished.
After a brief pause, John B broke the thick silence. "Right. Uh... so we're really sorry that that happened to you," he said, not sounding super convincing, "but what do you want from us?"
"Of course, you're right. Let's get down to business Chandler," Wes pointed to his right hand man.
"We believe that we've found a way to break the curse on this family," Chandler said, "Right before she was murdered, Elizabeth begged Francis to retrieve from her husband's ship a keepsake that he'd given her. Her most prized possession. An amulet."
While speaking, Chandler had wandered over to the portrait of Elizabeth, pointing at the sizeable necklace decorating her neck.
"He denied the request and then murdered her," he finished his monologue.
YOU ARE READING
𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 - JJ Maybank
FanfictionGrace Cameron was a Pogue. Always has been. Sure her dad and half-siblings were the Kookiest a Kook could get but her mom had grown up on the Cut so she did too. Her friend group vowed to have a good time all the time but when a boat goes down in th...
