The Murder Of 1886

CHAPTER 9

The next day Gwen couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something very wrong. It must have something to do with the graves. Ever since she saw the graves, her nerves have been jittery and she couldn't help but think that the graves were somehow important in their mission to uncover the secrets of the D'Souza house.

Jane had vehemently denied the fact that it must be important. Her explanation that some families buried their dead on their estate and that the D'Souza's might've wanted it too was perfectly logical. After all it wasn't very suspicious. But Gwen thought different. While Jane was known to be very logical and analytical in her way of thinking, Gwen tended to not think at all. She went with her gut instinct instead. It was something her parents and teachers seemed to love pointing out. Gwen ran a hand through her hair, combing out the knots as she tried to put last day out of her mind.

Jane was sitting at the kitchen table when she went downstairs. Jane didn't blink when Gwen passed her to get breakfast. She stared at something in the distance, something only she could see. Deciding to go to the grocery later in the day, Gwen sat down beside her best friend, waiting for her to spill her thoughts.

Gwen grew tired of waiting pretty soon. When it became clear that Jane wouldn't talk soon, she went to the living room and picked up the daily newspaper, idly flipping through it. There was nothing new or big in the paper. The local news was all about some bakery established in the village town square. Gwen skipped the sports page. She didn't understand half of the games anyway.

As she absent-mindedly read the headlines, her thoughts wandered to the graves. She didn't know why but something about it bugged her. Maybe it was just their presence that made her edgy. Maybe it was the quiet nagging voice in the back of her head that whispered that something bad was going to happen. The thought didn't reassure her.

Gwen flung the newspaper on the armchair beside her and then proceeded to stack the papers littered on the table. The table was littered with pens, highlighters, notepads and the newspapers from the year 1886. She hefted everything onto her arms and headed towards the stairs, intending to dump them in the library. She took a look into the kitchen to find Jane still sitting where she had left her.

Gwen had to pass the piano room in order to reach the library. She involuntarily came to a stop before it. For a moment she stared at the polished wood door, remembering the first time she entered the room and the subsequent unpleasant experiences she had. With a jolt she realized that she hadn't heard the piano in over a month. Ever since Jane's arrival, the music had stopped echoing hauntingly in the dark halls of the house. But she had been too busy to stop for a moment. She had never stopped to think too much about it and this little fact had somehow managed to escape her.

Completely stumped at the bizarre situation and feeling a chill go down her spine, Gwen stepped away from the door. At the library, she messily dumped the papers and pens on the ornate table placed against a wall of the room. She'll get hell from Jane later for not organizing it but she didn't care at the moment.

She slumped on a comfy armchair and glanced out of the floor-to-ceiling window of the room. Almost every room seemed to have a window, Gwen thought absently. The weather was light and sunny, a direct contrast to the gloomy dark atmosphere inside the house. She was again having the same horrible feeling she had when she woke that morning.

Gwen didn't check on Jane on her way out the front door. If her guesses were right, Jane would prefer not to be disturbed when she had something to solve. Instead, she took a hat off the hat stand beside the door and stepped out in the afternoon sun. The door closed behind her quietly. She took a moment to let her eyes to adjust to the bright light after being in the dark for so long.

Gwen didn't allow her thoughts to ruin her pleasant mood as she walked down the footpath. While the ground was damp even with the sun yesterday, the full effects of the sun seemed to set in. It seemed to be composed of clumps of soil than the mud. The moisture seemed to be all but gone.

The day was brighter and Gwen felt oddly happy. She felt lighter and the graves finally left her thoughts. She walked around for a while. She even went down to the gate. The long extending road was empty and lone as always. For a brief moment, Gwen wondered for the first time about the teen she had met on her second day there. She hadn't seen him since he had arrived on her doorstep nearly two months ago.

Gwen's mind was calm for the first time in days. She sweating but wasn't overly bothered with it as she trudged across the grassy landscape, kicking up soil and loose stones. Subconsciously she took the used path she had taken yesterday. She only noticed when the grass didn't hit her legs in protest as usual when she wandered through them.

It took her a moment to comprehend that she was at the gravesite. The moment she realized it she gasped. She could feel herself go numb. A weight settled in her stomach. Her blood turned to ice.

The graves she saw yesterday didn't cause her reaction. Oh no, the graves were not the problem. A new pair of headstones with a six feet trench behind each one was the root of her problem. The fact that it had hers and Jane's names engraved on it made it worse. They were obviously new. But Gwen didn't know who dug the trenches meant for her and Jane or when they had done it. The graves weren't visible from the house. That must be the only reason she missed seeing someone digging. 

The ice around her heart tightened its hold and gripped it harder; the pure panic and terror she felt made it harder for her to breathe. Her legs felt like jelly. She had a feeling she would collapse soon. Her brain was reeling and she couldn't keep her eyes off from the new additions to the gravesite.

It dawned on Gwen that whatever or whoever she was dealing with was more dangerous than she thought. Before, the haunting had just intrigued her. She had wanted to know what happened in that house.she felt like something was amiss. But now, this was serious. Before, she could've waved off the incidents as pranks done by the rebellious village boys in an attempt to scare her. Though, after this she didn't know what to do. This was sadistic and bordered on criminal intent.

Her throat felt closed. She was panicking and as soon as she realized that, she took deep breaths to reassure herself. She started walking back, glancing back often, making sure she wasn't hallucinating. She kept this up till the raves were no longer to be seen. And she still glanced back often. She was hallucinating, she knew, that there was someone flowing her. It was the adrenaline from seeing the newly dug graves. Who liked seeing their own headstone way before their death?

Gwen needed to talk to Jane about this. She knew it was imperative that she showed this to her friend.

Gwen got the feeling that whatever they were dealing with just took a dangerous swerve.

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