text: **Beware of gothic gore! ** Dear Diary, The winter weather arrived more than three weeks early this year with a blizzard that caught us by surprise. We've had to make accommodations to keep the daytime help here in the Château instead of sending them home. The path leading down to Gilberta is too treacherous for travel and will probably remain so for many weeks to come. -Bayle Dear Diary, Monsieur Traver and Mademoiselle Gwendolyn arrived unexpectedly from Paris this morning. From out of a white windy storm, the front door opened, and there they were. I don't know how they made it up the path. Luckily, both Rafe and Saulie were here from the carriage house to see to their cart and the half-frozen horses. -Bayle Dear Diary, I found the door that leads to the cellar unlocked and wide open. Odd, but I don't think anyone noticed. I relocked it. -Bayle Dear Diary, The storms keep raging. We may have a bit of cabin fever already. Perhaps that was why Madame Andress was a bit snippy today about not being able to see out the kitchen window again. I don't know what she expects me to do about it. -Bayle Dear Diary, I found the cellar door open again. As I closed and locked it, I noticed the new girl watching me--Henrietta. "Please keep a close eye on that new girl," I asked Madame Andress. "I think she's up to something." I used my most polite voice. You would have thought I'd asked for the moon. -Bayle Dear Diary, I found the cellar door open three times today, so I closed and locked it three times as well. Rafe caught up with me this afternoon and said his key to the chateau was not hanging in its usual place. He has searched everywhere and cannot find where it's got to. I told him I'd get him another, but later when I opened the closet where the spares were kept, they'd all disappeared. I'll have to speak to Madame Andress. I wonder if Henrietta has anything to do with it. -Bayle Dear Diary, Gwendolyn has been especially mischievous this season. Even though she's middle-aged now, I still think of her as the little mademoiselle. Y esterday, she spent the day following her brother, Traver. Today she is following me. I wonder who will be next. I'm still surprised the two of them are here. I thought for sure they'd stay in Paris for the winter. -Bayle Dear Diary, Madame Andress has asked me to do a better job of keeping the cellar door locked. "The staff are starting to think we have ghosts," she said, and she tried to laugh it off. I, too, have heard the talk. The staff are saying some spirit has come back to haunt us. Well, there are worse things than ghosts. At least ghosts don't bite. -Bayle Dear Diary, I found that new girl Henrietta dead in the dungeon last night. Most of her neck had been torn away. She must have gotten too close to the dungeon bars. It's why we've kept the door locked day and night for all these years. At first, I amazed myself for keeping a calm head. I dragged her body into a separate cell and locked it. Then I fetched buckets of soapy water and cleaned the blood off the dungeon floor. By the time I brought down the meal of raw beef I had served faithfully for nearly twenty years, I was crying. That poor girl. How sad for all these young women to end up in this way, and now--where there had been only two such creatures for years and years, we now had the burden of caring for a third. Madame Marie still wore the tiara they'd laid her out in and the same dress, though it was in tatters now. She gnashed her teeth at me and tried to growl. That priest/alchemist Traver brought in from abroad to help them have a child, gave them both a potion, and they'd taken it together, the two of them. Traver and Marie knew the risks, but they took it anyway. Lucas was born because of it, and what a blessing he is. Tall and strapping. Everyone loves Lucas. However, they hadn't expected Marie to die in childbirth. She was laid her out on the bed in all her finery, and it was winter, or they wouldn't have gotten away with it. When the midwife Cerise, came in to pay her respects, Marie attacked her with long sharp teeth. I was there. So was Madame Andress and Traver. We threw something over her head, so she couldn't bite us and smuggled her down to the dungeon. And Cerise. She was added a few days later. I should have told Madame Andress about Henrietta right away, but instead, I went to Traver, who was writing at his desk. Gwendolyn sat quietly nearby with an embroidery hoop in her lap, a picture of normalcy. "Could I speak to you for a moment, monsieur," I asked. He looked up and rose at once on seeing my expression. Something must have been written on my face. We went out to the hallway. Thankfully, Gwendolyn did not follow. "I found a girl dead," I whispered so Gwendolyn would not hear. "She was killed in the dungeons. I don't know what she was doing down there. Her neck was ripped open." I hesitated a moment to let it sink in. Then I continued. "Someone keeps unlocking and opening the cellar door. I suspected it was the dead girl, Henrietta." Monsieur Traver was shaken. "What should I do?" I asked him. "When others notice her absence, what will I tell them? It was quite late. The staff were in their quarters, keeping warm by their fires, and no one was about. Traver wanted to see. By the time we went down the cellar stairs to the dungeon, Henrietta had come back alive. She was the most grotesque yet, with that open gaping neck. I couldn’t hide my shock. "What have you done, Marie, my lovely night creature?" Traver whispered to the snarling thing in the first cell. "Were you lonely?" I interrupted and asked again, "What shall we do?" Traver squared his shoulders. "We must tell the truth, Bayle. The time has come. Perhaps they will understand." He surveyed the three of them and nodded his head, determination in his expression. I don't know what Traver planned to say, but I planned to let Madame Andress know first. She always seems to have a solution. I never got the chance. When we arrived at the top of the cellar stairs, we found the door closed and locked, with us on the wrong side of it. I had left my key in the door. We didn't want anyone to hear us shouting, so we waited silently and hoped whoever locked us in would return to let us out. I was thankful for the light of my lantern and that we were far enough away not to hear the creatures. It was Gwendolyn who opened the door. She danced with a large ring filled with keys, playing a game. I grabbed for them as she danced past me, but she skittered away. It was by now very late, and everyone was asleep. Surprisingly, no one had reported Henrietta missing. I left Monsieur Traver to deal with his sister and took myself to bed. -Bayle ~*~ (Letter addressed to Madame Laurene Renard from Madame Josephine Andress) My Dear Laurene, I had hoped to welcome you back as the new bride of Château Renard with all the joy and celebration your arrival deserves, but it is not to be so. Instead, you will be greeted at the door with the heartbreaking news that Monsieur Traver has been killed in a tragic accident. I had a room done up beautifully for you and Lucas, but now it matters nothing. I think Monsieur Lucas will not want to stay once his father's funeral and the formalities are over. We are a house of sorrow and secrets once again, and I wonder if the chateau has ever been anything else. When you arrive, you will no doubt hear from the staff that it was Gwendolyn who pulled the trigger that shot her brother, but I assure you this was not done out of anger or malice. It was but a horrible accident. We found, too late, what she's been up to; stealing the household keys and adding them to a great ring she found somewhere. She's been unlocking the locked doors of Madame Marie's old room, the cellar to the dungeon, and other places, following people, and spying. I can only speculate that she found a gun with a stolen key and took it. When Traver tried to take it away, it went off. By the time any of us realized what had happened, it was too late. That's not all. Bayle caught me last night, just before he turned in. A girl new to the staff was found dead under dreadful circumstances, something that never should have happened. Two deaths in two days. Perhaps the years so plagued with misfortune and sorrow have changed the Château Renard into a beast with a taste for blood. Perhaps she should be set on fire and left to burn to take her secrets to hell. Anyway, I ask mercy for Gwendolyn. She's an innocent, and I love her like my own daughter; I never had any of my own, you see. I still remember when she was born--a tiny fairy creature with pale white hair. There were times when no one could reach her, so lost she was inside her own head. On other days she would dance and play make-believe with her dolls. Those were the good days. She could also be disruptive, as she's been all this winter, but I've always had a way with her. She listens to me. When you and Lucas come, I'd like to return to Paris with you to care for Gwendolyn. Anxiously waiting for your return, Madame Josephine Andress ~*~ (Letter addressed to Eloise Moreau, from Aubrey Moreau) Dear Eloise, Lucas's father, Monsieur Traver is dead. He was killed two mornings ago, shot by his sister, an accident. No one can grasp it. While I'm happy you are safely away in Paris attending to Madam Laurene and Monsieur Lucas, I miss you terribly. It's been horrible at the chateau without you, and every day gets worse; so much worse. To start things off, a new girl, Henrietta, sneaked away to the carriage house to spend the night with Saulie. Her not-slept-in bed scared everyone into thinking the worst, but her remorseless self arrived during a room-to-room search. Madame Andress gave her the scolding of her life. When we found her bed untouched again, several days later, we paid it no mind. However, when Saulie and Rafe plowed a path from the carriage house to the kitchen door because of yet another heavy snow, Saulie told us he hasn't seen Henrietta, and now he's worried along with the rest of us. Ferguson woke up Bayle to help with the search, and that's when a gunshot blasted out--the gunshot that killed Monsieur Traver. Bayle gave us the rest of the day off to mourn, and it didn't seem appropriate to bring up Henrietta's absence. No one ate the noon meal, and after cleaning up, I went to the common room with everyone else, but instead of mourning Monsieur Traver, I mourned Henrietta. I keep imagining her frozen to death in the storm outside. I regret not being kinder. The next morning when Bayle didn't come to breakfast, Ferguson left to check on him and found his bed empty and unslept in. We broke into groups and began another search. We found the cellar door to the dungeon wide open. Ferguson thought Bayle might have gone down to the cellar, and worried something may have happened to him. "The stairs are very steep. I think we should check," he said. No one said a word. "We should wait for Madame Andress," I warned, but it was as if I'd never spoken. "Is anyone willing to come with me?" Ferguson looked hopeful, but no one replied. His face then got up some courage, and he grabbed a lantern for light then disappeared down the steps. "Come back," I shouted. (Or maybe I only whispered.) "It's too dangerous. There are big rats down there!" I knew Bayle took a domed platter of raw beef to the dungeon each night. I told you about it, remember? Bayle told me it was poisoned meat for the rats. "Dungeon rats are huge. Do stay away," he cautioned. Anyway, Ferguson disappeared. We couldn't see him anymore, and we barely breathed as we waited. Our ears strained to hear something. "Ferguson! Are you alright?" someone shouted. There was no answer at first, but moments later, he cried out from somewhere deep within the cellar. Nothing could persuade anyone of us to venture down that steep dark staircase, so we just stood there, willing Ferguson to come back unharmed. Suddenly he came running up the stairs. He'd lost the lantern but held Bayle's ring of keys. His arm dripped blood. "What happened?" we asked. "Did you find Bayle? Is he alright?" He never got the chance to answer. Madame Andress appeared from out of nowhere, her face white with fury, or maybe it was fear. She reached for the keys and locked the cellar door. "It looks like a rat bite," she said of his wound. "They carry disease and start plagues. You'll need to be isolated for a few days." She took Ferguson away by his good arm. Mademoiselle Gwendolyn followed. When I tried to follow, Jared held me back. (Do you remember Jared? Tall, handsome, brown curly hair?) "Let them go," he said, but Saulie followed them and reported back that they had climbed the tower to the turret room at the top. We stared at the locked cellar door. No one moved. I tried my best not to think, but I was terrified. Was Bayle down there? Henrietta? "Something's not right," Rafe said. "If Bayle is in trouble, we need to check on him. Stay here and watch for Madame Andress while I search her room for another key. Let me know right away if she comes." We waited in silence. I let my imagination search for answers. "What if Rafe doesn't come back?" Natalie asked. "Are we going to disappear one by one?" I wanted to tell her to shut up. Rafe returned about ten minutes later carrying a book. "Bayle kept a diary," he said. "I couldn't find a key." We passed the diary around from person to person, until horror filled every heart. "What shall we do?" someone asked. Ideas from barricading ourselves in the kitchen, to taking our chances in the storm and walking all the way to Gilberta, were tossed about. We were close to panic. Rafe and Jared were the only voices of reason. Together we’ve decided to go to the carriage house for now and when the wind dies, in days or weeks, we'll make our way to Gilberta and enlist the help of the authorities. We're anxious to get there before dark. Jared says to gather quilts and blankets for wrapping the supplies we need and that everyone should pair up. No one should be alone. So, that's how it is. I'm paired up with Jared. I have everything I own in one blanket and food packed in another. We're waiting for the others to finish up. I'm leaving this letter for you to find, next to the one Madame Andress has left for Madame Laurena. I also left Bayle's diary. Read it before you start opening doors and stay out of the dungeons and the turret room. Perhaps when you return, Madame Andress will greet you at the door with a smile and Ferguson and Gwendolyn will be drinking tea. Hopefully, you'll find the rest of us warm and safe in Gilberta. Love to you, my dearest sister, Always and forever, Aubrina ~*~ To: 1022 Willow Place, Paris, France Monsieur Travis and Monsieur Lucas Renard, I regret to inform you that the Chateau Renard caught fire in the night, but with the weather being as it is, there was nothing we could do to save it. A day later, we could still see the smoke and flames. Our prayers are for your staff. We pray they found refuge in one of your outbuildings and will remain together until we can send a rescue party. I assure you that as soon as the weather clears, everything possible will be done to bring them to safety and a full investigation will ensue. With regrets, -Graham Blanchard, Gilberta Village Chief