Whispers of Grunwald Manor

Into The Manor

As Emily and Mark stepped over the threshold of Grunwald Manor, the dimly lit interior greeted them with antique lamps casting long shadows across the foyer. Dust motes danced in the air, carried by the scent of old wood and faded perfume, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the manor.

They exchanged uncertain glances, taking in their surroundings. The manor seemed eerily quiet, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle of a bed and breakfast. Emily was hit by a sudden sense of déjà vu as a cold draft swept through the foyer, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Where is everyone?" Emily turned to Mark, her voice tinged with unease.

"Some welcome," Mark replied, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Before either of them could voice their concerns further, an old woman with grey hair and a stern expression entered the room. She wore a long black dress that seemed to swallow her frail frame.

"No need to yell, sweetheart," the woman said, her voice raspy with age. "You must be Mark and Emily. I'm Mrs. Grunwald, the caretaker of this manor. Welcome!" She emphasized the title "Mrs" with a sharp nod.

As Emily and Mark exchanged wary glances, there was a sudden sound of glass shattering from somewhere in the depths of the manor. They jumped, startled by the unexpected noise.

"What was that sound?" Emily asked, her heart racing with fear.

"I didn't hear anything, dear," Mrs. Grunwald said casually, unaffected by the disturbance. "But it's an old house, just like me. Our bones creak and crack, especially at night."

"Maybe it was another guest," Mark suggested, trying to rationalize the unsettling noise.

"There are no other guests at the manor," Mrs. Grunwald replied with a hint of finality. "It's just us here."

Emily's curiosity piqued, she couldn't help but inquire about Mrs. Grunwald's husband.

"What about Mr. Grunwald?" Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He's been gone a long time," Mrs. Grunwald replied cryptically, her gaze distant. "It's for the best though, I prefer younger men anyway," she added, casting a lingering glance in Mark's direction. "Like Sebastian."

The mention of the name sent a chill down Emily's spine. "Sebastian?" she whispered to Mark, who only shrugged in response.

"I'll show you to your room, follow me," Mrs. Grunwald said abruptly, her voice lowering to a near whisper.

With a sense of trepidation, Emily and Mark followed the caretaker deeper into the manor, their footsteps echoing eerily in the silence. Despite the age of the building, the interior retained its former glory. The walls were adorned with intricately patterned wallpaper. Paintings and portraits adorned the walls, depicting scenes from a bygone era with meticulous detail.

Mrs. Grunwald led them into a grand master bedroom fit for royalty, but despite its opulence, the room felt suffused with a sense of foreboding.

"Just give me a ring if you need anything," Mrs. Grunwald said with a knowing smile, her eyes lingering on Mark before she left the room. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to get cozy in your nest."

"Um, thank you," Mark stammered, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he watched Mrs. Grunwald close the door behind her.

As soon as they were alone, Emily turned to Mark with a mischievous grin. "We're finally alone. I know what we can do first" She said. "What's that?" Mark asked, his voice low and husky with desire.

"Take your clothes off. I couldn't wait for that woman to leave," Emily demanded playfully, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Mark chuckled, his grin widening. "As much as I'd love to, sweetheart, I have to handle something downstairs," he explained.