The Blindfolded Soul
There’s no easy way for me to say
this, but right now, I’m on the run from an evil that my family thought was
dead. A spirit that laid dormant for
decades has come alive and is both haunting and hunting me. I made the mistake of waking it from its
slumber, and now it wants to take revenge on my family for something that I
didn’t do. I’m only connected to the
person who did the heinous act that killed her by blood. I swear on my innocence that I had nothing to
do with her death. She is a product of
decades past, but now she wants to take out her vengeance on me. I kept trying to run, but no matter where I
turn, she seems to find me. I have to
escape this house and never come back as long as I live.
All of this started a few days ago
when my family and I moved into a house that my mother inherited from my great
grandfather. He had just passed away and
had left her his old country mansion in his will. It was a plantation mansion that had passed
down through generations and was being passed on to my Mom. It was something that we were supposed to
inherit because he only trusted my Mom with the house and not with anyone
else. Now that I know why it was
entrusted to her, I’m not sure if I can trust my own Mom anymore. The house has a dark past to it, one full of
exploitation and suffering. My own Mom
tried to keep these secrets from me and my brother, but there was nothing that
could keep my nosy brother and me out of trouble. My first mistake was allowing him to sneak
around that night.
We had only been here for a few days and my brother had already explored much
of the house, but there was a part of the house in the library that we both
found odd, a part that he wanted to explore alone. Seeing as how I was the older sibling, with
me being the age of 16 and him the age of 14, I didn’t want to leave him on his
own. I followed him from the bedrooms
down the long hallway to the library, our shadows dancing in the moonlight that
was pouring in through the windows.
Since it was just our mother and us, it seemed like we were alone, but I
still felt like he was unsafe going alone.
I tried to whisper to him, hoping that I would be able to discourage his
exploration and send him back to his room.
“Miles! What are you doing? We shouldn’t be out of our rooms right
now. We should be asleep. Go back to your room, please!”
My brother wasn’t convinced. “Why, Hannah?
I’ve already seen everywhere in the mansion except for what’s behind
that bookcase in the library. I want to
see what’s behind it.”
Miles was referring to a bookcase
in the library that had an end of it sticking out from the rest of the
wall. He believed that there was some
kind of secret lever that would allow him into another part of the mansion, a
hidden part that only the original owner knew about. I just wish that he wasn’t right. He made is way over to the bookshelf, exactly
where he said the lever was and tried to tug at it. It was an old book with some sort of writing
on it that was distorted and didn’t look right.
He kept tugging at it, but the book wouldn’t move. It was strange enough that the book wouldn’t
move, but it was stranger how the rest of the books started to shake and fall
off, all save for that one. I rushed
over to him and tried to get him to stop, trying my best to pry his hands from
the book. I pleaded in a whisper to
him. “Miles, we have to go. This isn’t
right. Leave it alone, please!”
Miles was relentless and would not
give up on getting into that secret chamber.
As much as I tried, there was nothing I could to get him away from that
lever. “No, Kayla! It’s right there! I just need to pull harder!” As much as he
was pulling, the lever didn’t budge until he realized there was a book that was
wedged underneath the lever that was preventing it from moving. I wish I hadn’t noticed it at the same time
Miles did. Maybe I could have persuaded
him sooner if I had noticed it earlier, but now there was no time to make him
change his mind. “That’s why the lever
isn’t moving! There’s a book caught
underneath it!” I fought with him over
the book, but he managed to muster a bit more strength than I could. Despite him being younger than me, he was
still a bit stronger than me. He pulled
the book out from underneath the lip of the lever and yanked the lever back,
pulling the bookshelf away from the wall and revealing a staircase that
descended down beneath the floor we were on.
We were two stories up in the house and the staircase seemed to descend
far down. As the bookshelf stopped
moving, lights along the inner side of the wall flared up to light the way
down. There was no way I could change my
brother’s mind now, no more opportunities to turn around. If something were to happen to my brother and
I didn’t follow him down, I wouldn’t forgive myself. I just wish I could forgive myself for what
did happen to him.
We descended down into that dark
basement into what appeared to be a dungeon.
Had I known what that dungeon had been used for beforehand, maybe there
would have been some hope of saving my brother.
We went further down the steps until we came to an open doorway. We walked through the doorway into a room
that was covered in old blood stains and had four lights, one on each wall,
showcasing brutal tools of torture and, with two more steps down to the center,
revealed a dimly lit doll that was on a table, covered in a red table
cloth. The doll was maybe a foot tall
and looked like it had old brown bloodstains on it. It had a little white apron, covering a light
blue dress and had brown hair. What was
strange about the doll is how it had a blindfold across its eyes. My brother immediately went to examine the
tools of torture with surprise and wonderment, probably wondering what use he
could make of them. What caught my eye
was writing that had been engraved into the stone on the wall. It said what the purpose of the room was in
these exact terms:
This room is the chamber of The
Blindfolded soul
Below are the keepers of the room
Nicholas Vernon
Wallace Vernon
Nathaniel Vernon
Madelene Vernon
The
last name on the wall was my mother’s name.
Her last name was changed to Richards when she married my Father but
later changed it back after the divorce.
Apparently, she knew of this room too, somehow. Nicholas Vernon was our Great Great
Grandfather and was the original owner of this house. All I knew about it beforehand is that we
would inherit it after my great grandfather died and that it was a plantation
house. That’s all I knew about it. Next to the wall was a wooden pulpit with an
old piece of paper on top. I went up to
read it and read about the reason the room had been made. If only I had been paying more attention to
my brother, maybe I could have stopped him from getting hurt, maybe I could
have saved him. Instead, I read on about
the room.
It was first used as a torture
chamber to torture slaves that were considered “disobedient” and was later used
as a twisted form of retreat for Nicholas Vernon, having later chained up and
abused a young slave girl that Nicholas had bought along with the rest of her
family. He made up a story about her
going missing, saying that she ran off in the middle of the night and sent a
team to go and “find her”. The reason he
cited for wanting to kidnap her was because of her beautiful complexion and her
eyes, which were a shade that could only come from her having been the child of
a slave and a slave owner. He brutally
raped and tortured her for months until she finally passed away due to
starvation and disease when she became too sick. The problem was that Nicholas became haunted
by the spirit of the girl and couldn’t find rest until he forced a slave at
gunpoint to use magic to seal the girl’s soul into a doll that was created by
the slave. She was sealed in that room
and was supposed to remain undisturbed on that table, that way no one would be
able to awaken the spirit. That
was the fatal mistake that my brother made.
My brother went to pick up the doll
and, before I could stop him, I heard a voice that made me freeze in fear. “You should have left me alone, boy.”
Miles dropped the doll on the table
in fear. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Before I knew what was happening, a wooden
palate covered in sharp swords and knives came crashing down, impaling Miles’s
body and causing him to collapse onto the floor, killing him instantly. I heard a wicked laugh emanating from the
doll. “I won’t have my rest until ALL
of the Vernon family is dead.” I ran up
the stairs, unable to do anything else but run.
I wanted to call my Mom, but I froze outside of her bedroom door. I turned around to see the doll at the edge
of the entrance of the library, blocking off the hallway. The only other way to go was to leave through
the other end. I ran and grabbed my
mom’s car keys. I had only gotten my
license two weeks ago, but I had no other choice. I ran and hopped into my Mom’s van and worked
as quickly as I could to adjust myself.
What horrified me the most was, as I looked back through the rearview
mirror to see the house one last time, I saw the doll, standing with what
appeared to be Miles’ body, standing right beside it, his eyes missing, leaving
nothing but bloody sockets. I turned on
the car, put the gear into drive, and sped off into the night, only looking
back one more time to see my mom’s bedroom light on, meaning that she was awake
and would have to deal with the doll alone.
I wanted to stay and help, but
after seeing the horrifying sight that I saw, there was no way I could go back
to that house. I went to my Father’s
apartment and tried to explain everything to him. It was almost too hard for him to believe
before he realized that I came alone in my Mom’s van. He did his best to calm me down and left me
on the couch to sleep. He went out the
next day to try and find my Mom and my brother, but he hasn’t come back. He gave me a call to say that he was on his
way there and that he would call me on his way back, but I haven’t received a
call and it’s already nighttime. I don’t
know what else to do other than try to share this story with as many people as
I can, and I advise everyone who sees this to share this story as well. Share it as far and wide as you can,
please. I don’t feel safe and my Father
hasn’t come home. I need to know that
he’s safe and that my Mom is safe. I
just wish all of this was a bad dream, but I’m still awake and I’m still typing
this down on my Father’s computer. I
didn’t know what else to do. I tried
calling the cops, but nobody has arrived yet and my Father has yet to show
up. Please, help me. Help me find out what happened to my parents
and save me from that doll. Please save
me from the blindfolded soul.
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