Darktober 3

Darktober 3

"September 11, 2019

My name is Victoria Winters.

Praise be to the gods, universe, and everything, I have made it to Collinwood (separate from Collinsport, apparently!) intact. Turns out the job offer was legitimate after all and I don't have to worry about kidnapping. Yet.

It's strange. I've never felt so... unsettled, before. Growing up in the foster system, "unsettled" was just my default. I never "settled" anywhere, so how could I feel "unsettled"? But here..."

Darktober 5

"Collinwood is nothing like I expected either. I read "estate" and "mansion" and I honestly pictured those giant modern McMansion monstrosities rich people are building all the time.

Collinwood is nothing like that. This place *is* huge, but it's huge in the way ancient castles are huge - like there was an actual purpose for all that space when it was built. There's the servant's quarters, the stables, the carriage house, the BALLROOM, everything a rich old European colonial family needed. Well. "Needed".

"We don't use even half of this place" Bridget said, sighing. "Too much work, not enough people. We only live in this little part over here these days." She nodded towards the sixth of the house we were approaching.

"What about the rest of the house?" I asked.

"Empty. Some places..." she glanced over at the unoccupied sections of the mansion.

It's strange, how welcoming the tiny little part of the house that was lit up looked, and how dark and definitely haunted the rest of the same house looked.

"Some places in this house haven't seen a human in centuries." Bridget said."

Darktober 9

"September 12, 2019

My name is Victoria Winters.

I don't usually remember any of my dreams. But I can't forget this one."

There are a lot of posts about SoCal skater fashion, I figured it would be fun to show some Glasgow skater. Even though I'm from California. But like. I learned to skate in Glasgow. So.

Currently cold, windy, and alternating between wet or icy. Skating is fun, with an added thrill of serious bodily harm.

Darktober 4 (CW: mention of s**cide)

“I met the housekeeper - Bridget - at the train station parking lot. She was a lot nicer and more…well, okay, fine, I’ll say it, *pretty* than I was expecting. Look, I’m a poor college student from Maine raised on Disney movies, what else could I be expecting? Housekeepers aren’t exactly a common sight in the modern American household.

Anyway, she was very very nice - wouldn’t let me touch my lone suitcase after we met in the parking lot and talked the whole way to Collinwood about the family, the town, the weather - absolutely everything about the estate and the land/people around it. And I was happy to listen. It was nice to get a rundown of the place I’ll be living in for the next six months. And she was a really good storyteller to boot. When we finally pulled into the gigantic old driveway of Collinwood, I noticed a particularly prominent hill protruding from the cliffs overlooking the sea - Bridget saw me look, and said, in the most casual way, “That’s Widow’s Hill. Blocked off from the estate long ago, but that doesn’t stop the local daredevils from climbing up there and making a ruckus on Halloween every year.”

“Why’s it called Widow’s Hill?” I asked. Bridget smiled - a small, sad kind of smile. All the humor was suddenly gone.

“Long ago, sailor’s wives would come up to that hill every day to watch for their husbands’ ships. It’s the highest point with a view here. Story goes, some of those poor women threw themselves off the cliff when they found out their husbands had died at sea.” Her expression changed again, as she seemed to shake herself and look at me directly, smile warm and welcoming again. “Lots of people have come and gone here. Doubt I’d like to be remembered that way.”

And with that, she walked towards the house, my suitcase rolling behind her.”

Darktober 10

"... I was running. It was dark. So dark. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds. It was cold - SO cold.

I was running through a forest, branches and leaves tearing at my hair and clothes, my feet slipping on rough, rocky earth.

I was running from some...thing? One? I don't know. I was absolutely terrified. I was running for my life.

Suddenly, I was out of the woods. I was running up a hill -

No, a cliff.

Wait. No.

Widow's Hill.

I was on top of Widow's Hill.

I stopped at the edge, looking down at the ocean below, beating mercilessly against the craggy cliffside.

I was trapped.

A voice screamed behind me - a male voice, enraged, desperate, utterly raw. I turned to look -

And slipped.

I could still hear the screaming as I fell, plunging into the ice-cold ocean.

And then I woke up."