by Sarah Earlene Shere, ©2024
(Oct. 25, 2024) — Did you see that mansion upon the hill you passed on your way here? It’s been shut up for years, and yet, many people have reported seeing light peeking through the slats of wood and shadows moving past the boarded windows. Some believe it is the work of spirits from the other side of this life, while others attribute it to things that can be explained by science and nature. But I will tell you the truth.
A long time ago, a prominent man bought that land and had the mansion built. Now, what only a few builders knew was that, before the foundation was laid, the wealthy owner, Bradford Sandercutt, had a room built into the ground where he could work on his experiments and inventions. For years, Sandercutt was able to keep his hobbies, and the fact that he was actually quite mad, a secret. But suspicions arose when he kept changing the blueprints of his home, adding stairs that led nowhere, rooms with no doors, doorways that opened out to drop-offs and hallways like mazes. But no one quickly questions the wealthy.
It wasn’t until Sandercutt introduced the community to his daughter that suspicions arose. No one had ever seen this beautiful young woman before she stepped out from the mansion to meet the public. The man had never mentioned her. No one saw her come into the small village or enter the mansion. Sensing the rising concern of the town, Sandercutt locked his “daughter” away, and never let her be seen again. This alarmed the authorities who forced their way into the mansion and began to investigate. They found the madman in his secret basement; his daughter seemed to be asleep on a slab table. Sandercutt, standing in front of a large face of a clock, had a wild look in his eyes as he began to turn the hour hand backward and repeatedly shouted, “Back we’ll go, back we’ll stay, where no man can find us!”
Suddenly, the authorities found themselves outside the mansion, unable to re-enter, no matter how hard they tried. Finally, the decision was made to board it up, with the expectation that time would remove the trouble. But who was in charge of time?
It would seem that the mansion is under the control of that giant clock, and there is a madman turning its hands. Every night, at midnight, you can see light peeking through the slats of wood and shadows moving past the boarded windows, and, if you dare be close enough, you will hear the crying of a young woman and the laughing of a madman.