The Haunted Manor House

Few tears were shed when news arrived that Lord Trevelyan had died. One solitary wreath was laid as shallow, feigned respects were paid. Remote and sullen, he'd disdained each hand of friendship, and remained throughout his life a bitter soul with whom no person could condole. His lavish mansion towered still above the village, on the hill where shadows stalked, in pale moonlight, all signs of life within their sight. And curious to see inside the house whose doors had been denied, the villagers set forth with haste unconscious of the doom they faced. As ghostly clouds went scudding by a vixen screamed its eldritch cry. Then one by one they reached the hall: The door slammed fast once and for all. They stood transfixed as terror reigned And piercing cries rang unrestrained. No soul would dare set foot again on Lord Trevelyan's domain. 23/01/19 'One Night In A Haunted Manor Poetry Contest' Sponsor: Tania Kitchin