The Hensley Mansion
Drew has always lived in the shadow of the Hensley Mansion, a sinister southern home up on the hill.
Once you enter, you really never leave and Drew discovered that no once but twice.
The first time she was sixteen-years-old with a group of friends on Hallow’s Eve and the second time to get rid of an abusive husband she couldn’t escape, but it cost her more than just her freedom.
To make it worse now, Drew Anderson has to relive her time in the Hensley mansion to help demolition constructor Stansley flatten the evil brooding in that house. But little did she know she has to visit for a third time to fulfill the task.
Will she be brave enough to finally help destroy the mansion that is the cause of all her nightmares?
EXCERPT OF THE HENSLEY MANSION
“Ms. Anderson,” Akachi said. He sauntered into my room and came to sit on his haunches before my chair.
I could see the head nurse through the corner of my eye.
He had a friendly chocolate-colored face, with a gaze filled with compassion and a smile that always made one feel welcome.
I kept staring out the window, looking at the beautiful world outside, without trying to link it to the Creator behind it. Because the second I thought about Him, I remembered the other one.
And then my mind would go back to that horrible, horrible time that I desperately tried to forget. Before I knew it, my unwanted visitors would return.
“There is a visitor here to see you,” he said softly, with his Jamaican accent.
I didn’t care much about visitors anymore. It was usually a reporter who tried to force me to talk about my memories. They all wanted to write an article about it, or an author looking for material to scare his readers through another bestseller. Anyone with common sense knew to stay away from that place.
Akachi got up from his haunches without me acknowledging him. I just stared out the window at the beautiful big old oak tree and the cat stuck in its branches again. That cat would never learn.
“Just speak to her softly. I don’t think she is going to be of any help to you today.”
“Thank you,” a male voice said. “I really appreciate it.” He sounded friendly, but I did not care. I saw him from out the corner of my eye too.
He introduced himself as Stanley, and I didn’t get his profession as I was already tuning out.
That stupid cat. Every other day she got stuck on a branch. You would have thought that she would have learned by now. Still, the cat kept on climbing the tree, kept crawling up to an impossible height. She would get stuck there for hours, or at least until she started making an awful sound to get someone’s attention.
“The Hensley Mansion ….” was all I heard, and my head jerked toward my visitor.
Did I hear him correctly? Did he say that?
Stanley stopped speaking. Probably shocked that he got any reaction from me.
“Get out of my room,” I said.
“Please, I need to know about the Hensley Mansion.”
“I said, get out!”
“One thing you need to remember, The Hensley Mansion isn’t just a house. It’s alive, and its sustenance is living souls. It feeds on them. They make it stronger.”
“They have asked me to demolish it, but no matter what I’ve tried, the next day it’s as if we hadn’t done anything. Please.” He begged.
I knew the sound of desperation. I knew the pleading in his voice, the begging in his tears that glistened in his eyes. He wanted someone to just believe him. But no one ever would.
“Please, I don’t know what’s going on. The things that have happened over the past few weeks. This was supposed to be a one day job, two at the most, but nothing I do can destroy that house. My workers refused to stay on, most quit, and those that didn’t end up dead, accidents, heart attacks…” His tears began forming drops in the corner of his eyes and spilled down his cheek. He wiped them away vigorously.
He was on that property and still found a way to visited me. It meant that the property still had some sort of a bound to it.
I knew what he was talking about. Hensley’s Mansion wasn’t like any other mansion. But he was lucky to still be here to see me.
The Southern Mansion was up on a hill, far away from any street, surrounded by trees. One could feel the evil protruding out of it when you got close, but no one cared. They should—stupid idiots.
“You know that place better than anybody else. Please, I’m begging you, help me understand so I can tear it down.”
I sighed. Minutes went by. This guy had no idea what he was asking of me. And it was almost Halloween.
Stanley sighed, got up slowly, and walked to the door.