“The Allison Manor?”

“The one on top of the hill?”

“Oh how ghastly, you must tell us everything!”

“You must, you must!”

Four debutantes in long ruffled skirts and dresses pecked a young woman in drab wear, near to bleeding, with their flurry of questions. The five were at the town well from which the woman in drab was in the process of drawing from, before being ambushed by the esteemed coterie.

The streets were empty. The sun was gone, choked out by dark clouds gliding over the horizon. It was to rain soon.

“Well...” began the woman in drab. She looked down at her half-filled water bucket. “I haven’t been a maid in Master Allison’s service for quite so very long, you see but he’s...”

“Alright, go on then!” Said a debutante, a fair-skinned, green-eyed beauty with black hair done-up in the popular style.

“Being there is—in the manor I mean—it's...strange.” The woman in drab said that last word, strange, with some frustration as if it were a word not enough.

The debutantes all scoffed and rolled their eyes at this.

“Obviously.” Said one, golden-eyed with blonde hair in long flowing tresses. “But what’s he like? I hear he’s a beast.”

“I hear a devil!”

“Neither.” Said the woman. “But he is strange. I’ve not been there very long but I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen him since I've started.”

“Not even at tea?” Asked the black-haired one.

“No. Not even then. I don’t cook for him either and I’ve never once seen him eat.” The woman in drab looked around at all the fancy ladies who were leaned in close to her, hanging on her every word. She smiled and continued.

“That’s not even the most strange. I’ll check the larder sometimes, and notice foods gone missing.”

“Come on then, what’s he eat!?” Asked the golden-eyed girl.

“Well, that’s what’s bizarre...I only ever find cheese missing.”

“Cheese? No man, nor beast can hardly subsist on cheese alone. What kind of cheese?”

“American.” The debutantes all made scandalized noises at this and were promptly quieted down with what was said next. “And sometimes, in the morning. I’ll hear noises come from his chambers, crazy ranting, and raving like from a man possessed!”

The debutantes all gasped and ,when they had recovered, began to kick up fresh noise. “What’s he say, what’s he say? Tell us!” they chirped.

“I dunno. Something about some family, or person—thing—named, liberal.” She let the debutantes chew on this for a bit, taste the unfamiliar word in their mouths before she hit them with the next part.

“And last Sunday, I snuck into his chambers as he was out on constitutional with the manor hound. I was told never to go in there.” The woman leaned into her captive audience. “But I had to. I had to know...” The debutantes’ eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

“And what did you find?” asked the black-haired one in an excited whisper, her white-gloved hand gripping the woman’s wrist.

“No bed.”

“No bed? Whatever could you mean?”

“ What I said, my lady.” Said the woman. “No bed. No blankets on the floor. Just…Just a coffin.”

Overhead thunder cracked and it was the sound of a great seal being broken. Just then, the rain had begun in earnest.