From the Desk of:
Pierre II Penvyllyn

My life is a torment. How is it this is who I have become, or perhaps as I always was. They speak of a curse, a curse of this home for all who seek out the family treasure. I never believed it, until only now I see the curse of my own reflection in the mirror. We are a despicable bunch. Mother knew Elinor wanted to leave. She convinced me the woman was conniving, seeking wealth and riches and advantages. She convinced me she would ruin the family name. How much convincing did it really take?

Was there a part of me that believed it? A part of me that believed her unworthy.. that she came from filth and squalor, unworthy of our family name and our family comforts and excess. She came to me with a plan, a plan to make it look like an accident. No one would suspect a thing. She helped me, she covered for me, and she took the children in their protection as I fled -- fled until I may return here free of guilt and shame and look my children in the eyes again. Though I know, it never shall be. I saw the moment Elinor was gone, and I was not alone. The damned stray cat was there, staring at me.

It was strange, at that moment... I saw him look through my soul. My soul shaken by those piercing green eyes. Was it Elizabeth, come back from the dead? Was it my own soul, lept from my body casting judgment? Was it the devil? No, no, it’s madness.. it’s just a cat. A cat, that every time I see I’ll see her and all my sins. Yes, I must flee. I must flee and hope for the best. I made mother promise she’d raise my children with kindness and love for all, but how can it be true. She’s a monster, they have the bloodline of monsters in their veins. As I type this I hear the urgent whispering mews of the telltale cat, and my own heartbeat.

Goodbye Stanyan manor, I must take my leave of you. Lord knows if we shall meet again, but if we do may god have mercy on our souls.