April 6th, 1907
Last night I fell into one of the deepest sleeps in recent memory. I had no recollection of dreaming and woke up refreshed. However the hour of my rising was late as the sun was moving closer to noon than daybreak.
I hastily dressed and proceeded to Chris’s chambers. I knocked but there was no answer. I then called to Chris and Mrs. Bristle but no answer came from the room. The door was unlocked and upon opening it, I discovered the reason no one answered. The room was empty. Maybe Chris was not quite as bedridden as I had originally assumed.
I went downstairs but the manor seemed totally empty. No sounds coming from the kitchen, library or waiting room. I checked them anyways and discovered them all unoccupied. I lingered near the ancient text in the library as the feeling of dread and curiosity crept in but figured I should first attempt locate the whereabouts of my friend.
I finally heard a murmur coming from the foyer. I investigated and realized that I could hear multiple voices speaking from just outside the door. I opened the front door and all the talking stopped as it seemed I had surprised Chris, Mr. Douglas, and Ms. Enfield mid-conversation. They all looked upon me for a still moment before Chris finally greeted me with a “Good Morning”.
I asked why the three of them were standing outside. Without a word, Chris used his cane to tap on the wooden door right next to my head. Three deep gouges were carved into the door, each about a foot long and an inch deep, and in the similar pattern of a cat’s claw.
There are no beasts in England capable of making this mark. No tigers or wild cats or bears on the isle and all the wolves were killed hundreds of years ago. I asked Chris if this could be the doing of a vandal but he assured me that it was the beast on the moor and that we should arm ourselves.
He ordered Mr. Douglas to retrieve the rifles from storage and when he returned I was handed a weapon. It has been a while since I’ve been on a hunt but I still know my way around a firearm.
We discussed staying indoors and keeping watch all night but Mr. Douglas insisted we survey outside while we had daylight. He said we my find tracks and then we will know from which direction the beast is coming from. I didn’t say it at the time, but the idea of hunting a wild beast here still seemed silly to me. I have traveled all over this country and never seen predator bigger than a wild dog.
Yet I agreed to accompany Mr. Douglas on his “scouting mission”. We headed west, carrying loaded rifles as we searched about the manor grounds. It was only at this moment that I realized I hadn’t heard or felt any wind today. That was odd as the wind is persistent here. And then came the fog.
The fog rolled off the highlands and down the moors with surprising speed. The early afternoon sun was clouded and the now cooler air made it feel more like dusk. We couldn’t have been but about 300 yards from the manor, yet I couldn’t even see the large residence through this fog.
I mentioned that we should turn back and we could check again once the fog lifted but as I turned around Mr. Douglas was nowhere to be seen. I called out to him to no avail. It was okay, I would just follow the road back to the house but as I looked down, I suddenly realized I was no longer on the road. We must have veered off into the low grass and I never noticed.
A panic swept through me as I had no sense of direction, I could not see anything beyond a yard from my face. I believe I knew the general direction to travel so I started moving. I squinted my eyes in hopes of seeing something beyond the veil of mist and called for help as I moved along slowly. I walked for an hour and saw nothing but grey. Finally something was coming into view, black shapes towering over me through the mist. It was now I realized that instead of walking back towards the manor, I had instead reached the edge of the forest.
I am lost. I am alone. It is getting darker and colder. I have nothing to start a fire nor anything to give me light, but I do have a rifle and 5 rounds in my pocket.
I need to stop writing now because it is getting hard to see. God help me.
This was part three of this actual play of English Eerie.
Part 2 Part 1
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