Chapter 1

The citizens of Bordeaux took great pains to avoid straying near the Beaumont Abbey behind the outskirts of the city. It was rumored to be haunted by the most terrible of ghosts, and inhabited by a cruel, horrible English man. There were whispers about underground chambers strictly for solicitors, and dungeons for other unwelcome trespassers.

But it was unlikely either of these were used often, for if the rumors weren’t enough to frighten anyone, a quick peek at the outside landscape would be. The most well kept feature was the lawn, which was three feet tall, but the trees were the worst, even compared to the rusted, black, iron gates with a giant letter “B”, kept together by cobwebs. The trees were huge, dying, gray things with strange knots wrapping around the trunks taking shapes of grieving or angry faces. The architecture of the house itself was a darker shade of gray than the spooky trees. It had a theme of neglect with dirty windows, and in the stone, and shingles falling onto the ground from the weathered roof.

Not a peep came from the place for a while, until one day, when a kind of home service confidentially entered the property. At the end of the day, most of the cobwebs were gone, the windows washed, and the roof and chimneys were mended. Nothing was done for the ghastly trees, for nothing could be done.

Why did “he” finally fix up the Abbey? Perhaps a change of property ownership? Perhaps “he” had been away for some time and had finally returned, disgusted by his home’s state? And why how come the services at Beaumont Abbey were never seen again?

“He’s hungry.” A smart young man said to his companion, a lovely , as they passed the Abbey arm in arm.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“Him, the monster in there, is hungry for human flesh. And he figures he ought to make the place look nice to lure the victim’s in.” At seeing the look of confusion on his lovely, yet quite stupid, companion’s face, he tried to be more clear.

“Look, if you’re going to catch a mouse, you don’t put spoiled cheese in the trap. You use the good stuff, so the mouse will come, and then you’ve got yourself a mouse!”

“Oh, darling!” The laughed. “What would anyone want with a mouse?” The man sighed deeply, wishing silently for smarter companions.

However, both were completely unaware that as they discussed monsters and mice, they were being watched from a window in the Abbey with yellow eyes.