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From the journal of Kes Allyntahl Harnam, Brittany, Waldachia Province 27th of Sept. 2017

Ch. 1–Spring

Sometimes I wonder if both Izora and Carrol had something to do with it... all that negative karmic energy generating between them somehow gave that entity strength, just enough to allow it to escape the confines of the garden and perhaps, the grave.

Or maybe some small portion of that creature had always been free, roaming secretly in the dark hidden places, until the right kind of individual came along providing it with a tether.

Sometimes I wonder what the wandering portion of it did in the wilds of Brittany. Did it live life as a predator, hungrily searching out victims, much like that of a vampire or did it aimlessly wander like a revenant, only pausing in spots it was most familiar with in life.

The wildlife would have noticed it though, and would have avoided it just as they have avoided the grounds and back gardens.

I knew the cats have seen something, my cat Miss Tabitha especially. During my prior stay at the Rue Des Jardins Lodge, I didn’t notice anything amiss.

There were the usual nightly noises–passing cars and occasional pedestrians, and the nightly wandering of the cats. To the best of my knowledge, they acted like typical cats– barreling down the hallways and stairs, batting things off the shelves and tables, random yowls in the middle of the night.

Six months later, I moved back into the boarding house after I experiencing some really weird stuff at the Lum House rental (it burned down by the way).

It was at the beginning of March that I first took notice. For the past week and a half, I had been waking up between the hours of 3 and 3:20 A. M. 3:10 on the dot, and then I was up. No sudden feeling of dread or old hag syndrome/sleep paralysis that a lot of people talk about. Just 3:10 A. M. On the dot, and then I was up. Normally, this wouldn’t to be a problem. I get up, go use the loo, crawl back under the covers and as I hit REM sleep, Miss Tabitha used me as a pillow. Would have simply dismissed the whole thing as stress-related if it hadn’t been for the cat. Except this time, at exactly 3:10 A. M., I was jolted awake by the sound of hissing. Groggily, I sit up as the cat released yet another seething teakettle hiss.

“Hey,” I groaned as I rubbed my head. “Hey Tabes, what’s the matter? What’s going on?”

Then as I shuffled out of bed and onto my feet, this sudden image came to me.

“What . . . the . . . what?”

Confused, I halted in mid-step as an iridescent shape briefly spiraled into being before fading into nothingness. “What is that? A snail shell? Why would I suddenly have a vision like that? Where in the world . . . ? Am I still . . . dreaming?”

A low throaty growl from the window seat snapped me back to attention.

“All right, all right, Miss Puss,” I muttered, rubbing away the sleep haze and grit. “We’ll have a look.”

Yawning, I shuffled over to the window overlooking the Southeast garden. “Probably just a fox or a stray dog visiting.”

Leaving forward, I took in the overgrown splendor of the garden bordered by unkempt rose bushes and topiary.

Moonlight filled the place, lighting up every blade of unclipped grass and untamed privet bushes. Nothing moved; just us, the silvery-lit moths outside, the breeze disturbed the verdant stillness of the place.

Frowning, I wondered why the Jardins (normally tidy and well-organized people) would leave this particular corner so wild and neglected. Funny too how it was always kept shut tight and securely locked.

Just I was about to turn away and dismiss the whole thing as yet another feline overreaction, I noticed it.

“Huh?” I pressed my forehead against the cold glass, trying to make out a distant vague silhouette in the middle of a grassy clearing. A brown triangular ear crowded my vision followed by Miss Tabitha’s striped head. Together, we watched as the form gradually grew more defined in the more radiant moonlight.

“Who’s that?” I exclaimed as a drawn, pale face appeared topped by wavy blonde hair.

The tabby didn’t answer, just made the feline equivalent of a shrug.

“An elf by the looks of him,” I mused. “Definitely not from the boarding house, that’s for sure. Wonder what’s he doing out there, all pinning and drooping like a Gothic Romance character? Very funny.”

“MRRooooWWW,” was the reply.

I nodded. “Yeah, I agree. Something really funny’s going on here.”

I clutched my arms as unexpected coldness permeated the air, reminding me of a sudden draft from an open freezer, at that instant, dark clouds suddenly obscured the moon and stars from sight. The garden was soon shrouded in darkness. Wisps of thin gray mist rose from the spot where the man had been seated as well as faint glowing lights reminiscent of fireflies.

We stared spellbound as the flurry of orbs drifted slowly upward, flashing like heat lightning across the velvety blackness. Then the moon came out, flooding the garden with silvery light.

The garden was still and empty as before.

“What the . . . ?” I said confusedly. “Hey, where’d he go?”

A few minutes passed in silence as I scanned the garden. Still, nothing.

That was weird, I thought, closing the curtains. Could he have gone through the hedge?

Peering out between the curtains again, I waited and watched. Of course, there was nothing, not even a single leaf stirring.

Must have, I decided as I returned the bed. Anyway, it’s too late now to be playing Nancy Drew. I’ll search tomorrow.

Miss Tabitha was already curled near my pillow no doubt, dreaming of mice and savory meat entrée. I, on the other hand, tried to dream of scenic landscapes, but instead dreamed about an orange-yellow orb whizzing around the boarding house. As it flew, trying to gain entry, the cat horde followed, peering from one closed window to the next. Once or twice, an orange glow lit up the curtains of my bedroom window. I had to be dreaming, because there was absolutely no way that this was actually happening in real time.

After several more minutes of furious but futile attempts to get in, it finally took off in the direction of the nearby woods and the distant churchyard that lay beyond it.