Black's End Manor by Katiebug1174 on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

The Curse of Black's End Manor
Date: October 12, 1903

Dear Diary,

With each passing day, I feel the weight of the past enveloping me, like the thick blanket of fog that clings to the cliffs surrounding Black's End Manor. From my window, I watch the ghostly silhouettes of waves crashing below, a rhythmic reminder of the wealth that once embraced my family. Now, however, I stare at these tumultuous waters, aware that they whisper secrets long forgotten—secrets that may explain the ruin of our fortune.

I am Sebastian Remington, the last heir of this crumbling Victorian estate, and tomorrow marks the seventh anniversary of my father’s death. He had spoken of the shadows lurking in the corners of our family's history. Though I brushed aside his warnings then, desperation has driven me to search for answers.

The manor itself is as much a character within my dread as the stories I unearth—a decaying ruin, burdened by memories. The once-lavish halls now echo with the soft creaks of wood and the distant cries of gulls, their wings beating against the oppressive silence. Each room I explore seems to resound with lingering whispers, creating an atmosphere thick with anticipation and foreboding.

This evening, I rummaged through my father’s study, a place I seldom visited since his passing. It was there that I stumbled upon his old journal, its cracked spine giving way to the weight of knowledge I had yet to confront. Pages crunched beneath my fingers, stained with time and shaded by the sorrow that seeped from its words.

He had chronicled the family's decline—lost investments, failed ventures, and an unyielding chain of misfortune. Each entry dripped with a foreboding edge, like the fog that now blankets the manor. Yet the most chilling revelation emerged on a page marked with a crimson ribbon: the curse of Black's End.

“The fortune we once knew was earned upon the backs of others,” he wrote. "Our ancestors, blinded by greed, made a pact with the sea. In return for prosperity, they agreed to sacrifice every third-born male of the family. The sea does not forget.”

My heart raced as I traced the words with my trembling fingertips. Was this fever dream or a cruel insistence of fate? To think that our very livelihood had been built upon the foundation of sacrifice! Were these misfortunes simply the result of greed? Or had the hallowed cliffs come alive with vengeance?

A sudden gust of wind rattled the window shut, sending chills racing down my spine. The fog thickened outside, and I felt its unseen tendrils curling around the manor, reaching for me. As I rifled through the remainder of the journal, another revelation struck—a warning! Each male heir had succumbed to the depths of that cursed sea, losing their lives during storms as if summoned by an ancient vendetta.

Was I next?

As I pen this entry, I feel the cold grip of despair tighten around my heart. Am I to be swept into the abyss, destined to appease a darkness that my family birthed? Or can I uncover a path to break this cursed lineage?

Outside, the storm now rages in earnest, howling with the voices of the past. I shall not sleep tonight; the manor is alive with watchful shadows, and I will face whatever prowls at the edges of my mind. Perhaps tomorrow will bring more than just the light of dawn; perhaps it will unveil the secrets required to rewrite this tragic fate.

For now, dear diary, I must brace myself. The legacy of Black's End cries out, begging to be reconciled with the truth. I feel it in my bones, stirring like the restless tide below.

Yours in unease,
Sebastian