Bancroft Manor Prompt1 Part3

Wickedness isn’t born like me or you or a kitten, it doesn’t sprout from the ground like a flower or a tree.

Wickedness is created, like a painting,  stroke by stroke upon an unyielding piece of canvas

like a mural on a wall with nothing to stop it  from becoming something else other then a sturdy, weather worn brick wall.

Wickedness is like Frankenstein’s Monster stitched together in secret from stolen corpses taken from the ground in the dead of night against their will  with rough hands and rusty shovels.

Wickedness in a tribute, a memorial to the remains of good things

that should have been.

Jingle Gravesend’s Treasures Arrived Today

Bancroft Manor  Prompt 1 Part  2

The crates arrived

at Bancroft Manor

not at night

but during the day- just after breakfast in fact.

Not that anyone was in the Manor House that day to eat breakfast, or even lunch.

The Manor was, as it had been cemetery quiet for a very long time.


They were stacked neatly in the foyer, three  crates bound shut with leather straps,

in front of two movers who wear wearing tombstone gray overalls.

The boxes were side marked

” Jingle Gravesend-top floor ”


Earlier one of the movers said to the other mover as they brought the crates inside-whose name I think was Frank-Frank said ” That’ a weird name.”

Frank’s co -worker Lem agreed.


” Wonder what kind of things someone named Jingle Gravesend would be sending to herself to a Manor House where nobody has lived for 60 years. ”

They looked around, almost furtively- what they could see of the furniture and the woodwork was old and faded but not neglected. The paintings though, the paint looked oddly wet and almost a little too vibrant.

” This place used to be a hospital.” Frank said and he stepped back a little when his voice echoed back at him. ” Heard it’s going to be a private residence now. ”

Lem looked down at his shoes and then he wiped his hands against his chest. ” What kind of hospital.”

” The kind you got sent to, you know,  for a rest.”

The men looked sadly up the stairs that led to the attic. ” I suppose it’s haunted or something. ” Lem said. ”  Old Manor House out in the woods that used to be a hospital for the, what do you call it- the infirm.  How could it not have, issues.”

They  agreed, without speaking a word that they were getting those crates with the weird named stenciled on the sides up to the top floor and then they were going to hot foot it out of there.

Eyes forward and hop to it gentleman- that was the name of the game.

Frank took two of the crates and Lem  loaded one onto a hand truck and then they made their way up  the slightly dusty stairs.

Their footsteps sounded muffled as they slowly climbed the marble staircase, very much in the same way a hand reaches over your shoulder and clamps over your mouth to stifle your scream when you are walking down a corridor or maybe up a long dark staircase in a house that is not only watching you but listening to you too.

Lem and Frank did not notice.

Photo A.M. Moscoso


Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso