The Old Hag

"There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told."—Edgar Allan Poe

It was the year of 1820, when I had been travelling on horseback, through the wearisome tracts of land that led beyond a knoll, to the narrow path of the Villalobos Estate in Kingston, New York. I am a doctor by profession, and my name is Graham Crandall, an Englishman. I was summoned to examine the dead corpse of a Countess Marina Villalobos originally from Spain, who had suffered a mysterious and unexpected death. I had arrived at the colonial mansion, with only the information of her death and nothing more elucidated.

When I had raught the estate it was close to the eventide, with a fainting crepuscule. The imposing, thick clouds were dim and portentous, but I was able to see through the dismal gloom that had pervaded over the eldritch mansion. There were augurous crows with an ebony glow that were perched upon the towering trees that were cawing, as I heard the plangor of the death knell. Once at the mansion, I was promptly greeted by the maidservant, who had escorted me to the room, where the countess had supposedly died. She had been lying in a bed stiff, listless and stone cold with her hands folded.

I had touched her pulse and there was no heartbeat to be registered. She had apparently been dead for several hours from my calculations. Her pallor was significantly noticeable, and her bulging eyes were eerily open wide and hauntingly white, with a thin brown film over them.

She had a ring with an onyx stone that matched, with her hoary hair. Her skin was full of wrinkles, yet she was perfumed with a florid scent. Judging from her appearance, she was an older woman in her seventies, but she was of impeccable nobility. I had heard of her before and her reputation for having splendid soirées and riveting séances. She was known for her ability to talk to the dead and foresee the future.

There was nothing I could do for the countess, but to hope that her soul had passed on to the other world and was finally resting. Preparations were made for her internment, and she would be embalmed, as was her request. For some odd reason, she had chosen this form, for her body to be preserved. I had heard of this peculiar practice of embalmment.

The rain would begin to fall, as a storm had arrived from beyond the horizon. It would cause me to stay the night at the house of the countess. I would never imagine in my wildest nightmares that it would be a night I would not forget. I had seen the morefold of the faces of death under extenuating circumstances and dree.

Death was no stranger to me, but upon that night, I would confront the most frightening death ever conceived and construed in its permanence. It would be a lurking horror that would ascend from the chasm of hell. A place where witches would roam freely, during the moonlight of its nocturnal glow. I was led to the room that I would spend the night. It was an ample and luxurious room.

The two-storey mansion had six chambers, a fireplace with ornate mantels, two master bedrooms, a chandelier on the bottom storey, a long stairway of steps, a dining hall, haunting oriel windows, narrow corridors, and distinctive paintings that were of the kindred of the countess.

What I had noticed with the countess as well was the fact that she was extremely fond of jewelry. There were exquisite pieces of them everywhere, in the rooms and placed inside the house as embellishments. The smell of incense was pervasive throughout the corridors. It was something that the countess had requested be spread after her death. For what specific reason, I did not know its authenticity.

Inside the room, I had pondered in my mind the macabre death of the countess and the mystery concerning the mansion, despite the paucity in the details. After a while, I had left the room and walked through the darkled corridors, staring at the walls that had surrounded me.

There were candles lit all around. It was somewhat creepy with the dull light. There was a room downstairs that was full of dolls. I went inside the room and had gazed at them. It was then, when the daughter of the countess Josefina had walked inside and saw me gazing.

She invited me for dinner and had accompanied me at the dining hall. She was a woman, with the aesthetic beauty of her Spanish features that had illumined her sorrow. Her raven hair was long and silky, and she was endowed with fine curvatures that were exemplified by her posture.

She had come to see her mother before her untimely death, dressed in a sable colour, out of mourning and deep reverence for her mother I had assumed. From what I was told by her, her mother had been dealing with a mysterious illness, for a long time. Most likely, it was due to her advanced age.

During dinner, we had conversed about the house and her mother, ''Countess, if I could ask you several questions. I would like to know your responses?'' I said.

''That all depends on the questions you ask doctor,'' she had replied.

''I have noticed a number of sundry things that I find fascinating and peculiar in the house.''

''Such as, doctor?''

''The jewelry in the rooms and the dolls that were in the adjacent room to the dinning hall. If you don't mind me asking, why are they so abundantly present?''

''Surely, as you must know, my mother was a countess and had adored jewelry. As for the dolls, they were like children to her. She adored them, as she adored her natural children.''

''When you mean natural, you are referring to children?''

''Yes!''

I thought her response was odd and baffling.

The rain had begun to increase and so did my intrigue with the mysterious aura of the house and the deceased countess. I had come, not knowing what to expect upon my visit to the estate. All that I had presumed was the possible death of the Countess Villalobos. There was something secretive about the daughter of the countess that had surpassed her wayment and comeliness. I did not know at the time what selcouth secrets she had been concealing from me.

After dinner, she had excused herself and told me she would be retiring for the night. If I needed something, the diligent maidservant would tend to my requests. I still was not satisfied with the responses to my questions, in particular the one about the dolls. Perhaps it was because, I was merely unaccustomed to them.

There were fuscous draperies that were inside my room, which I had not noticed before and a glisten of dew. The countess had a predilection for priceless things and decorations. She was a woman from another era. As I was observing from my window the landscape outside of the house, I had heard the strange sound of a creaking door and footsteps in the corridor.

At first, I had suspected that it was the wind causing the creaking and the echoes of apparent footsteps, but the sounds had increased enough for me to step outside of the room and check the corridor. I would find nothing or any person there.

Suddenly, I began to hear the screams of a woman in distress. When I had reached the origin of the screams, they were coming from the room inside of the countess. I had turned the doorknob, but it was closed. I was then surprised by the daughter of the countess Josefina.

''Is there something that I can help you with, doctor? Are you lost?''

''Good god you startled me young lady. I had heard loud screams. Did you not hear them too?''

''I am afraid not. Perhaps, you have mistaken the screams, for the sounds of the windy night.''

''With all due respect, I don't think what I heard were the echoes of the wind. They had sounded like the screams of a woman.''

''The only women here are the maidservant and myself. She is presently tending to private matters and I as you see, am standing before you presently.''

''But I tell you that the voice that I heard was of an elderly woman.''

She smiled then replied, ''There is no elderly woman here, except mother, but she is in her room sleeping.''

''Sleeping? By that you mean dead?''

''You can say that, but I much prefer to say that she is sleeping.''

I had returned to my room, puzzled by the words of the daughter of the countess. The more that I spoke to her, the more that she spoke in vague riddles than in concrete substance. It did give me the firm impression that she was attempting to be surreptitious when questioned. It was not my intention to pry into the private matters of the countess. I was merely unaware of the facts and details, concerning the life of her mother and her family.

It was possible that I was overreacting or exaggerating, all these peculiar things I was experiencing at the mansion. It was only the beginning, because there were more occurrences that would betide inexplicably and would lead to utter suspense and terror.

Back inside the room, I had perceived the presence of someone or something observing me, with an imperant stare. It was an odd presentiment I was experimenting. There was a painting in the room that was of a male. I had assumed it was a member of the family of the countess, perhaps her late husband. As I approached and observed the painting, I had noticed that the eyes were moving, as if someone was staring at me. I was fixated by the painting that I had approached it, with a certain intrigue.

When I stood before it, the eyes no longer were moveable. It was peculiar, and I had wondered, whether or not I had actually seen the eyes move in the first place. I could only make an unproven speculation on my part. I calmly sat down on my bed for a moment, when I then heard the sound of a music box playing. It was coming directly from one of the rooms that were nigh. I decided to investigate the source of the music.

When I had reached its point of origin, I had discovered it was coming directly from the room, where the body of the countess was preserved. Was the music box intentionally left there, as a mere request by the countess, before she had died? I was told that she had made several requests upon her death. What I did not know at that moment was how many requests were made by her, and what were they in their entirety?

The more that I had spent in the house, the more that I was suspicious about the occurrences I had been encountering. Whilst I was listening to the music box play, I had begun to hear the sound of a piano playing, and it was coming from the parlour. The question on my mind was, who was playing the piano? I could not distinguish the melody or the notes. All that I could detect were the keys that had been pressed down.

When I went to the parlour, I saw that the piano was playing, but there was nobody playing it. Had I just imagined someone playing the piano or was there something unexplained transpiring that I was not cognisant of its nature? Once more, Josefina had seen me and had wondered what I was doing at the parlour there alone. She had a unique knack for surprising a person, and about her queer behaviour, I was suspecting it was more than tentative. She had stopped the piano from playing its diapasons, by closing its lid and fallboard.

''I did not know you were an admirer of the piano, doctor,'' she had uttered.

''Once more, you startled me with your presence. Did you not hear the playing of the piano or the music box?'' I had asked her.

''Yes, I did.''

''I must know, why was the music box playing, and how it is that the piano was playing by itself?''

''That I can explain, doctor. The music box has a special key that allows it to be continuously played for a brief period of time, and as for the piano, it too has a special key inside the soundboard near the treble strings and tuning pins''.

She had proceeded to show me, ''I sometimes leave the lid open, so that the tonal resonance will improve upon playing the notes and striking the chords. I know all that these things that you are hearing seem to be bizarre, but they were the requests of my beloved mother, the Countess Villalobos.''

''I don't know how exactly to respond. As a man of medicine and science, I must have a reasonable explanation for everything, including the insoluble.''

''I understand doctor, and there is so much about this house that you will never understand. You see, the wicked and the good are ever at variance with its existence''.

''What do you mean by that countess?''

''I merely was implying an old Spanish adage that my mother once said to me, as a child. I think it would be better doctor that you not allow yourself to be rattled by the type of noises you are hearing, for the house is full of these unusual sounds that you are not accustomed to hear.''

''Perchance, you are correct, countess. I am wont to the solitude of my own house. I shall be returning to my room. It must be late at this hour.''

''There is no need to fret, doctor. The night is long, but the morning will arrive sooner than what you expect. For now, allow your eyes and body to rest. If you hear more of these strange sounds, it is better for you to ignore them. They are common occurrences in the house.''

Upon my return to the room, I then suddenly heard the dulcet tone of a female voice that was singing. I was obfuscated and was undetermined about what to do. Had the house started to affect me with its haunting manner? It was coming from the room, where Countess Villalobos was at.

The events that were unfolding had unsettled me profoundly. The night had seemed as well interminable and distressing. I had come to the house to examine the body of the countess who was dead, but I did not expect that I would be a bidden guest to the unusual circumstances that had involved the mansion.

Where and when would this madness end? It was highly implausible that I would discover the intrinsic secrets about the house and the countess, in one night. The procellous rain had stopped, and only a fainting thunder could be heard from the distance. These things, that were happening, had kept me from sleeping that night.

Then the clanging of the tall clock was heard audibly by my ears. It had startled me as I was lying on the bed. How could I dismiss the sound, when it was ringing for several minutes? I was compelled to head towards the hallway, where the clock was situated.

Once there, I could see the brown mahogany clock. It had halted making its noise, but there was a shadowy figure of a woman walking in the corridor ahead. Was it Josefina or the maidservant? Who else was staying in the house than them? Did an unknown stranger enter the house unannouncedly like a thief, or had Countess Villalobos risen from the dead?

A sudden burst of wind had entered through the velvet draperies of the room.

It was then, when I first saw a momentary glimpse of the Countess Villalobos. She had a hoary guise that was the reflection of her terrible death. Her bulging eyes were white and her skin as well. They were covered in the pallor of her deceased body. Her hair was ashen-grey, and she was dressed in the garments that she was to be buried. She had stared into my eyes and then disappeared into the night.

The mirror had shattered into fragments of pieces. I was astonished by the encounter and was left to contemplate what I had actually witnessed. It had made me feel uncomfortable and unprepared, for the wickedness that I still had not unveiled.

Sleep was out of the question, for I could not sleep one minute, without there being some odd occurrence in the house that was fathomless in its essence. I often had heard stories, about the countess being the descendant of a witch that was burnt to the stake in Spain, but these were merely malicious rumours that were spread, as blasphemy.

If the rumours were accurate and she was indeed a witch, then this would explain the supernatural elements that were happening inside the house, with her death. I was still incredulous to accept such a bizarre notion. The countess had died of natural causes. I had examined her and found nothing that would indicate murder. Her body was lying and embalmed in her room, waiting to be buried in the cemetery in the morning.

The giant clock would ring in the hallway, upon every hour raught. That would unnerve me even more. The hour was late at night and all I could think about was the mystery about the house and the countess. I had laid down for a couple of minutes, when I had felt something near my pillow. I grabbed it and saw that it was the female image of one of the small dolls I had seen earlier.

The doll would discompose me and cause me to jump on to my feet, with immediacy. It was giggling at me. I threw it on to the ground and had wanted no part of the doll. It kept on giggling with a devilish look in her eyes. I did not know what to do. I was about to pick it up and throw it out of the room, when I had heard a knocking on my door. It was Josefina. She had entered and had seen the doll on the floor.

I had told her what had happened, and she simply grabbed the doll and told the maidservant to put it back, where it had belonged. She had explained to me that it was probably there in the room, before I had arrived at the mansion and that it was not removed. She apologised, if the doll had spooked me.

I was never fond of dolls as a child. They had always unsettled me and brought hellish nightmares to my nights. I was not pleased to see them in the house, but it was not my home. The doll was the worse of my anxious moments. To think that there were more of these episodes left was becoming unbearable to fathom. Josefina had told the maidservant to bring me some tea to allay my angst.

She had stepped away for a few moments. I accepted the tea and had told the maidservant, whose name was Mary to inform the countess Josefina that I had wanted to speak to her in privacy afterwards. The idea that the house was haunted was not out of the question, but was I really experimenting all of these things in their following sequential order? She would tell the countess, who would re-enter my room.

Thereafter, I had asked her some questions, pertaining to the house and her mother Countess Villalobos of Toledo. What I had wanted to know was how long was the countess living in the house and who was the original proprietor of the house?

She would answer me by saying, ''The countess my mother had been living in this house doctor for many years, since she had married my father, Count De La Torre. He was the original proprietor of the house. It was built for him and my mother, upon their previous engagement.''

''Your parents migrated to New York from Spain? Is that not so, countess?'' I asked her.

''Yes!'' She had responded.

''Why did they come to this area?''

''From what I was told by them, they came to begin a new life in the Americas. Spain was beginning to rebuild after the occupation of Napoleon.''

''Pardon the question countess, but why is your mother associated to witchcraft?''

''Who has told you this, doctor?''

''I apologise, if I enquire about this matter. I was merely curious countess.''

''If you must know then, those claims are false. My mother is or was no witch. She had great power to foresee and predict the future. Would you call that witchcraft, doctor?''

''I suppose I wouldn't, but I can understand how people could believe that assumption.''

''People will believe what they want to believe.''

''Will you join me for a glass of sherry?''

''As an Englishman, a glass of sherry will do nicely for me, thank you.''

We began a new conversation and this time it was mostly about asking her life, ''Do you enjoy living in this area of New York?''

''Yes doctor. I enjoy my time and stay in Kingston.''

''Will you ever return to live in Spain?''

''To live in Spain. I suppose one day I shall return, but I have spent most of my life here.''

''I have been to Spain on several occasions and hope to visit the country soon.''

''You should go. Spain is a beautiful land, with wonderful places to see and visit.''

''What will you do countess, without your mother? Do you plan on selling the house?'' I asked.

''Selling the house you ask? Why of course not. Why should I sell the home of my mother?''

''Forgive me for the implication. I had expected, once your mother had passed away that you would sell the property.''

''That would be foolish of me doctor. This is her home.''

''But she is dead, countess.''

''Dead, you mean in body, not in spirit?'' She had answered.

''What do you mean by that?''

''Soon, you will understand everything doctor, in due time.''

She had then left, and I had pondered her replies and insinuations. What did she mean by, I would soon understand everything? Understand what? That was the significant question that had required a logical answer. Was she speaking in a vague notion or rhetorical sense? I could not fully determine what was exactly transpiring with the occurrences in the house, but they were related in some form to the death of the countess.

I had remembered cases of witchcraft in Salem and in Spain, during the time of the Inquisition. Could they be connected to the countess and her family back in Spain? Was she and her family avoiding capture and ultimately, being burnt to the stake for witchcraft?

This had intrigued me to know the truth about the family of the countess and her unique history. It was not unordinary that people who had claim to see the future or predict it would be assumed to be witches or warlocks. There were still persons, who had puritan beliefs against witchcraft or its concept of execration. I had read how those that were found guilty of practising its abominable rituals were executed in the most inhumane manner conceived.

I did not know if it was a certainty that the countess had possessed the powers of witchcraft, but I did know that it was facile to accuse someone of witchcraft, with limited evidence provided. The history of America and Europe were smeared, in the tainted blood of sanctimonious and religious injustice.

I had seen from the view of my window outside, a lone figure of an older woman passing the tall trees by the courtyard patio. At first, I could not truly make a clear distinction, who this person was. After a closer look, as the women had approached my window, I then saw the ghastly image of the spectre of Countess Villalobos again.

Had she come to torment me? Had she come to make me believe that she was alive and not dead? It was hard to imagine that she could be alive, within the realm of our reality. It was most likely, her restless spirit that had returned to haunt the mansion.

She was like a shadow of time, and her lingering soul was condemned to wander forever, as a dreadful ghost. How could that thing even be feasible to comprehend? Where do I even begin? The apprehension in me was a consternated experience. I had to discover the truth about the countess and the mansion, or I would go insane. I had to see the body of the countess once more.

That would mean that I would need to go inside her room, where she was declared dead by me. It was perhaps disrespectful to try to enter the room without permission granted. When I had reached her door, I could smell the process of the putrid stench of her body. I would utilise the pretext of checking on her to see, if she had not released any reeking body odours, or was beginning the gradual process of decomposition, despite the embalmment.

I had knocked on the door of Josefina and had explained to her what I had mentioned before. She was a bit surprised to see me and to hear what I was alluding to with my words. We were definitely, at a discordance.

''Why would it even matter, doctor, if she smelt or not? I will take care of that in the morning. I will make certain that she is perfumed, with her favourite scent as requested.''

''I know it will sound strange to you, but I have an urgency to see her.''

''An urgency? What type of urgency doctor?''

''I cannot explain it with words countess. I can show you, once we are there at her room and see her body.''

''I don't see the need at this moment to conduct such a thing, but if you insist, I will go with you.''

At that moment, someone had knocked on the front door. The maidservant had answered the door and it was a constable, who had wanted to speak with Josefina. When he spoke to the countess, he would inform her that the image of her mother was seen roaming, along the grounds of the estate and on the main road leading to the estate.

I was able to overhear the conversation, and the expression on the face of the countess was one that displayed no measure of amazement. It had seemed that she was aware of her mother's apparition, or she was merely attempting to disguise her discontent.

Whatever was her authentic reaction, it had proven to me that I had not seen an illusion, or was the only one to have seen Countess Villalobos in person. Whilst the countess was occupied with the constable, I had managed to find the key that belonged to the room the deceased Countess Villalobos.

When I had entered inside the room, I would behold a horrifying image. The body of the countess was gone. Either someone had removed her body, or she had risen from the dead, like the quondam Lazarus. The maidservant had entered then and had screamed, as she recoiled in awe.

This would alert the constable, and he would demand to enter the house. The countess was reluctant at first, but she then had allowed him entrance into the mansion. When he had reached the room of Countess Villalobos, he saw the maidservant and I standing, with a bewildered look on our faces and enquired.

''What is going on here?''

''The countess has awakened!'' The maidservant uttered.

''Who?'' The constable asked.

''Countess Villalobos,'' I replied.

''What are you talking about?''

Josefina had entered the room. She ordered the maidservant out of the room, then she said to us, ''There is no need to worry, my beloved mother has been moved from the room. I had removed her myself.''

''Removed you say? Where to?'' I asked.

''To another room in the house doctor. You can trust me when I say, she will be prepared for tomorrow's funeral.''

Her reason had convinced the constable, and he would soon leave the house, ''I guess there is nothing for me to do here. I will be on my way. If you will excuse me.''

After the constable had departed, I had spoken in privacy with Josefina about the disappearance of her mother. She had confirmed to me that she had indeed moved the body to another room. It was her decision to make, and I was no one to dispute that decision. After all, I was only a doctor. I was concerned, with the health of the maidservant. Thus, I went to examine her. The shock of not seeing the body of the countess in her room had affected her. To what capacity, I did not know.

I told Josefina that I would return to speak seriously about the matter of her mother. Fortunately, the maidservant had calmed herself, but I did perceive in her, this anxiety that was palpable. I did not know, if she knew about the spectral image of the countess.

Once I returned to speak to Josefina, I had demanded to see her mother, ''Take me to see her at once. As her doctor, I must see the state of her body.''

''Why? She is dead as you know. Why awaken her, when she is quietly asleep in another room''.

''Believe me. It is not my intention to be rude nor impose upon you countess. I am merely making a small request.''

Seeing that I was insistent, she had acquiesced, ''You are a very persistent man, doctor. I will take you to see mother now.''

I was taken to the new room, where Countess Villalobos was at. It was there where I saw her familiar dead body again, and it was a horrendous impression I had that I could not rid myself of its haunting aspect. Her body was still stiff but colder, and her hands had remained folded. Her lips were still parched. It was her dreadful eyes that had terrified me the most, they were bulging.

It did not appear to me that Josefina was shocked by those eyeballs. I had wanted to believe that she was not involved, with the disappearance. What was the reason for her to remove the body, in the first place?

''Did you know that the eyeballs were still bulging?'' I asked Josefina.

''Yes. I was aware of that.''

''It seems strange to me, and I am a doctor?''

''Mother had always had big oval eyes.''

''It just seems odd, countess?''

''You will not understand.''

''Understand what?''

''Look behind you—for mother has risen.''

I had turned around and saw that Countess Villalobos had risen from the dead. She rose from her bed and sat up, with her bulging eyes. It was a disturbing scene to witness. I was somewhat discomposed for a moment, before I had regained my mental faculties. When I had turned to look at Josefina, she had a sinister grin in her face and began to laugh. She had gone mad like her mother. It was insanity that had killed Countess Villalobos.

This was the reason that I was unaware of its relevance. Was I too going mad? Was this nothing more than a conjured hallucination of a fretful state? I had taken notice of every occurrence that had happened in the house, since I had first arrived there.

I had scurried out of the room. As I was outside of the corridor, I could hear the sound of the giant clock clanging and clanging, until it had deafened me. I fell to my knees and had covered my ears, until I opened my eyes and had felt the touch of a person upon my sweating hands. It was the maidservant, who had found me on the floor.

It was morning, when she had found me in the parlour. She had asked me, what was I doing in the parlour alone? I told her that in that adjacent room, I had seen Countess Villalobos rise from the dead. She looked at me and told me that I had experienced a nightmare. The countess was still in her room, waiting to be buried in the morning. When I asked her about the whereabouts of Josefina, she had told me she was in her room preparing for the funeral.

I had gone to her room and spoke to her. She had been preparing herself, when I had entered the room. I had asked her, about the incident from last night with her mother, and she had seemed to be surprised, as if she did not know what I was alluding to.

I left her and headed towards the room, where her mother was being prepared. Inside the room, I saw that her eyes were indeed still bulging. Slowly, I started to touch her and there was no reaction, no suspirious movement. She was stone dead, like the day before.

Had I just imagined that she had risen and was bedaffed by her susurrus? I did not want to spend another minute in that house of horror. It was maliferous. Thus, I had departed the estate of Countess Villalobos, with the memory of the prior night still fresh in my mind. I had convinced myself that everything was indeed a horrific nightmare.

When I had climbed on top of my horse, I said my farewell to Josefina and the maidservant. I wanted to believe that what I had experienced at the house was real, but there was a sign of doubt that was creeping and troubling me. If I had encountered a ghost or its image, then what did it all mean in the broader sense? There was nothing that was normal about that house or that old woman, who was the countess. She was the personification of the singular shadow of death.

Along the dirt road leading away from the estate nigh a brook, I came across the figure of a lone elderly woman, with her back facing me. I had halted the immediate advance of my horse. Thence, I called on her afterwards. When the woman had turned around, she uttered a loud, sharp, shrill. It was the ineffaceable image of the old hag, with her bulging eyes.

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