Hi Internet People,
The Witch House is back! We haven’t gotten to the mousetraps yet, but next week Ellery is headed back to her room to check the traps. For today I have some important set up and blending between this and the original story.
Ellery and Anna had spent much of the night working on their respective research while Carmilla streamed in the background. They’d each seen it enough times that the story didn’t distract them too much, though Ellery did have to admit that she’d put down her book during the puppet show and the waltz. She couldn’t miss out on those chemistry filled moments, but by the final moments of season one she had become completely immersed in the dusty tome she had grabbed from her room at the last minute. Ellery hadn’t anticipated this particular book to be as engaging as it turned out to be. Over the course of her initial materials collection she had done some quick skimming of so many texts that many of them had begun to blur together in a series of familiar quotes and events. This book though was very curious, particularly in the third section, which was set in the slightly more recent years of Arkham history. Ellery had initially intended to focus her thesis on the witch hysteria that emerged in the late 1600s, but there was something here that she couldn’t ignore.
The third section of the book had surprised her because it was full of scribblings crammed inside the margins. Even though the writing was condensed and involved a great deal of squinting to even begin to understand there was something hauntingly urgent about the presence of these words. Ellery managed to see the word Keziah, which seemed out of place within a section devoted to architectural restoration within Arkham in the early 1900s. Keziah was a name that she had read hundreds, if not thousands of times when she began her research. She was a well-known and feared witch who had been arrested in 1692 and madness and hysteria had surrounded her time in Arkham. What was strange was that not only was her name not typed anywhere within this section of the book, but it kept appearing within the cramped handwriting as though she was somehow vital to what they were trying to share.
Even though her eyes had become remarkably tired, Ellery had been able to piece together something about a house and strange night visits. The sentences though seemed to move from focused to entirely nonsensical as she made her way closer and closer to the end of the book. It didn’t help that even though Ellery loved old books and wanted to learn just what the mysterious note writer was saying her head was beginning to throb. The perils of mold allergies in the historical field were something she’d always have to deal with. After popping some Benadryl Ellery drifted off to sleep, but her dreams were tinged with cookie stealing vampires and long dead witches.
Talk to ya tomorrow,