So I'm sure everyone has given up on me now, but I'm finally going to update this story. I doubt it's going to be any good and my writing style has changed considerably since the last time I've written. Hopefully those of you who wanted me to update will still be interested to see where this story will go – I'm rather interested myself! Once more, I'd like to apologize for the absolutely unforgivable delay between updates. Perhaps I'll be able to update a bit more periodically this time! Much love and happy reading!

Upon entering the mansion, Emily's eyes widened in awe. Every surface was covered in thick dust, surely meaning that the place hadn't been occupied for quite some time. If the topiaries in the garden were anything to go by, she was curious as to why there seemed to be a lack of beauty or care within the confines of these walls. True, there was an elegance to the place that couldn't be ignored – giant, immaculately paned windows with luxurious moldings around the exterior and a wrought iron banister on the stairs that had intricate designs woven within each piece of metal. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before.

While she was surveying the beautiful old mansion, another creak on the stairs startled her into action. "Who's there?" she cried, suddenly feeling very nervous. She turned her head to and fro but was unable to locate anyone, or anything else within the room. "I….I know you're here, whoever you are!" she yelled bravely, gulping slightly and trying to calm her steadily rising heartbeat.

Her intentions clear, Emily moved slowly and carefully towards the ancient staircase, gently lowering her hand to the dusty banister. "I'm c-coming upstairs!" Gathering what little bravery she possessed, she carefully ascended the staircase, making note of the rotten steps along the way. If she had to get out of there quickly, for whatever reason, she didn't want her foot to collapse with the decaying wood.

Each step was carefully calculated and before she realized it, she'd reached the top of the stairs. "Phew…no big deal. Maybe there's nothing up here after all," she mused, looking in every direction and not managing to see anyone else. "Maybe I'm just going insane or something." Just as she was about to explore the interesting little nook to the left of the stairs, another creak averted her attention to the room just ahead of her. "Well, crap." Swallowing her fear, she moved forward quickly, hoping to provide an element of surprise to the uninviting character in the room. "Who ARE you?" she asked impatiently, frowning when she didn't immediately see another person in the room.

There was a gaping hole in the ceiling, probably due to the fact that the mansion hadn't been tended to in ages. The wind had picked up and each of the broken, splintered support beams groaned from the strain. "Well, I guess that explains a lot," Emily reasoned, figuring that the wind had been playing tricks on her all along. Just as she was about to turn and leave, a small voice from the corner of the room stopped her dead in her tracks.

"D-don't leave."

Eyes wide, Emily spun on her heel and stared at the darkened corner of the room. "Who are you? What do you want?" Her palms were sweaty and she was getting more nervous by the second. "Come out now or I'll…I'll scream!" She knew screaming would do her little good – nobody would hear her from here and even if they did, they would never make it up the hill in time to help her.

Without pause, the dark figure in the corner slowly moved forward, the light just barely gracing its features. As it continued to move forward, Emily was able to make out the fact that it was a man – albeit a dirty and rather horror-esque man. His hair was in matted tangled on his head, there were hundreds of miniscule scrapes and lacerations across his pale, sallow face, and, most surprisingly, he was wearing a skin-tight, leather jump suit that was adorned with buckles and belts. Emily's mouth fell agape as she stared at the man who, she noticed, was holding his hands behind his back.

"What…who are you?" she asked again, her eyes flicking down to his concealed hands and back to his face. Whatever he was hiding, she was sure she wouldn't like it.

"I'm….I'm Edward," the man stammered clumsily, his eyes looking pained and sorrowful.

"Edward." Emily spoke the name quietly, letting everything she was seeing really sink in. Although he wasn't the most attractive of sorts, there was something alluring about this Edward guy. Those piercing eyes were staring right through her, or so it seemed, as if he were looking straight through to her soul.

Shaking her head slightly, Emily resurfaced from her thoughts and looked yet again at the man's torso behind which he was concealing his hands. "What do you have back there?" she asked, jerking her head in the direction of his arms. She was over-exciting herself again, readying herself to flee should she need to.

"I….they aren't finished," Edward replied sadly, not bothering to move his arms.

"What isn't finished?" Emily asked, a hint of concern in her voice. Something was obviously troubling him and she was starting to feel at ease.

Without saying anything, Edward finally removed his hands from behind his back – but they weren't hands exactly; what was attached to his wrists were not fingers but elongated, sharp blades. Each of these makeshift fingers glistened in the sunlight, reflecting beams of light all over the room.

Emily opened her mouth in terror with the intent to scream but no sound came. Her vision clouded up and, before she knew what hit her, she collapsed to the floor.