It was a mansion in its day, today just a big house. For you, who had lived in these types of houses – and who hasn't? They're everywhere on this side of the continent – it's just another old Victorian house that has yet to be worked on and split up for future buyers.
Of course, there's more to it than that.
These old houses have a history to them. Some funny, some weird, and some more… Sinister. Many different folktales of this house have arisen over the years. You devour as many books as you can on this house and have finally deduced your own version. So it goes:
The Old Kennedy House was built for the rich family of Captain Thompson, a loyalist who settled in the area after the Revolutionary War. He built the house with the motto "Septem Generationem", Latin for 'Seven generations'. The reason was his desire for his family and name to last many generations. His wish, however, was foiled twice. Once was when his only granddaughter married a Scotsman and the house's name was changed from the Thompson House to the Kennedy House.
The second foil was when the family line ended. It started around the time when Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy's great grandson was owner of the house. His wife died in childbirth just shy of a century ago. Sir Kennedy was completely distraught at losing his kind wife. Fortunately, God had granted him mercy: His infant daughter survived.
He named her Elizabeth, though most called her Beth. She was said to look just like her mother, with bright brown eyes and a dimpled smile framed by brown hair. She was Sir Kennedy's and the servant's pride and joy, always curious and welcoming. Although Sir Kennedy knew that she was happy, he himself wanted so desperately to give her a mother figure, a woman to love her and take over the house should he pass on.
Eventually, he found a wife, a rich widow of a neighbouring town by the name of Lady Marie. They became acquainted in the spring and married before the summer's end. While both Sir Kennedy and Beth accepted her with open arms, everyone else was more apprehensive.
Unbeknownst to Sir Kennedy, Lady Marie was rumoured to be a Witch and had a hand in her late husband's mysterious death. Of course, no one dared point their fingers. In this area, witches were more or less tolerated, with more attention paid into not offending them, lest someone gets bewitched.
Despite Beth's best attempts, Lady Marie remained cold towards her unless Sir Kennedy was present. Most people today believed that it was because Beth was the heir to the Kennedy fortune, some that Lady Marie simply disliked kids, others say both. Whatever the reasons, Lady Marie wanted Elizabeth out of the way.
It is said that late one overcast night one of the servants was travelling through a hidden passageway. When they stepped into the main hall, they saw an ominous light from a room. Upon sneaking closer, they heard muttering. Curiosity had got the better of them, and they peeked in. There, they saw the cloaked back of Lady Marie, quietly chanting with candles, incense, and a skull in hand. They crept away and checked their trembling. It was said that they never spoke of this incident until they left the house, which was not too long after…
Not even a month since that night, it was Beth's birthday. Lady Marie surprised everyone by giving Beth a gift: A brown teddy bear. It was soft, with a heart-shaped nose, black beaded eyes, and a handmade shirt. It was Beth's favourite gift and she took it wherever she went.
As the days passed by, however, the servants and Sir Kennedy noticed a change in her behaviour. The joyful light in her eyes dulled. She ate, slept, and spoke less each day. Sir Kennedy asked around, but no doctors could explain this behaviour, priests only told him to pray for her, and Lady Marie suggested she was just going through a phase.
But still, Sir Kennedy fretted for his daughter. His fear soon become realized: one rainy night, a servant checked in on Beth to find her bed empty. The house was alerted and everyone went out to search for her. She was found soaking wet in her nightgown, Teddy smiling innocently up at her. It's said that, when a servant tried to bring her in, he accidentally touched Teddy. Beth, before she passed out, gave him a glare that he said took several years off his life. Nonetheless, he took her back to the house. Teddy was dropped and left outside.
Beth caught pneumonia, but recovered after some weeks and returned to her cheerier self. The Kennedy House was once more a welcoming place.
You wished that you could say 'Lady Marie disappeared, The End', turn around, and leave.
But that's a lie… For one day, Lady Marie approached Beth with Teddy, now dried clean. It's said that, the second Beth touched the bear and looked into its glinting, black eyes, her own turned dull. The next morning, a servant once more found her bed vacant. They searched the area. All they found was her small foot prints and Teddy by a rocky cliff.
She was only seven.
Like all folktales, there are gaps. Sir Kennedy and Lady Marie disappeared, maybe splitting and moving to another place. It's said that the Kennedy Bear still sits in that house, and that anyone who holds it, especially children, receive bad luck, some dying afterwards. You walk up and peer into the window. For just a second, you see a silhouette of someone, but you can't tell who. Perhaps a cold and greedy widow, a man weighed down from despair, or, just maybe, a little girl with brown eyes and curly hair that frames a dimpled smile.
… Or the not so innocent glint of a possessed toy.
Your hand reaches for the doorknob…
Thank you for reading. I'd like to thank my father for the historical tidbits and names, as well as the many folklore books I so have not wasted my money on! I especially enjoyed the irony with the number Seven. Critiques are welcomed.
Happy Holidays!
Critiques are appreciated. - Monos DOA
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