Chapter Text
- “Do you want me to drop you off at the front door ?” the cab driver looked at you through the dash mirror, his finger tapping impatiently on the steering wheel..
- “No, I’ll walk the rest of the way.” you thanked him, handing him the money you owed him.
He nodded, watching you step out of the car before dashing out of here, the wheels stirring up a cloud of dust that caused you to cough once it filled your nostrils. You watched the cab drive away in a state of semi-disbelief. You knew people didn’t particularly liked this area because of its history, but to this point, really ? You took a minute to pat some of the dirt off your clothes to look presentable and stared at the imposing steel gate standing in front of you. Maybe you should turn around and forget about all of this, your voice of reason told you. Maybe taking this nanny job was a terrible idea. This was your chance to back off, the wise choice. But you had never been known to act wise now were you.
You crossed the portal and started walking on the stone path towards the residence of your, hopefully, future employers. No one could miss it, even from a mile away; a gigantic, antique looking Victorian style mansion that emanated wealth. Though its stone exterior gave it more of a gloomy castle vibe than a fancy manor, the only thing adding some color to it was the red rooftop that crowned it all. You remembered it looking redder than the washed out, dull, rust-red color it was now, probably due to the damage of time. Each of the many windows felt like eyes staring down at you for trying to peek behind their curtains that hid a life of luxury. It used to scare you, leaving you intimidated by the grandeur of it all, but now, not so much. Before you knew it, you reached to end of the driveway and started to slowly walk up the stairs to the large front door, taking a minutes to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding in your chest, the voice of reason inside your brain telling you once again that this was a very bad idea. But you had made it all this way, there was no backing out now. Your friends would’ve looked at you in disbelief, shaking their heads in confusion if they saw you right now. What was so scary about a job consisting of taking care of a child for a couple of months, with all expenses paid by its rich parents ? Well, the problem wasn’t the job per say. You were good with kids, so you were confident that you would do a good job looking after a child. No, the problem was the employers themselves. But why would they cause trouble to anyone? The Heelshires were an old couple who kept to themselves and looked absolutely charming from a quick glance. And yes, you remember them being nice enough, although there was this feeling around them that was…odd. The problem was that you had a certain unpleasant history with the Heelshire family.
More specifically, you and your deceased cousin Emily Cribbs.
When you were younger, every summer (or at least a large part of them) would be spent at the Cribbs’s house in the English countryside. You and Emily were inseparable: from fishing at the nearby pond, playing make believe with dolls and costumes far too big for you two to wear, or staying up late watching television when your parents told you two to go to sleep. It was always (Y/N) and Emily, Emily and (Y/N). Those were some of your best childhood memories. Then one year, you and your parents arrived at the Cribbs’s, like so many years before, but this time, things would be different. Emily had a new friend to present to you. He was a boy, a year younger than you and shorter too, dressed in a tailored suit that would look more suitable for a fancy recital or in the 1950’s rather than going out to play with friends in the dirt. He didn’t smile, nor did he show a lot of emotions actually. Everything about him seemed almost…fake, plastic. You had never seen someone be this perfect looking before.
- “(Y/N), this is Brahms Heelshire. Brahms, this is my cousin (Y/N). She comes to visit me every summer, so I hope you two will get along.”
Emily gave Brahms a small nudge and he extended his hand for you to shake, which felt a bit robotic. At first, you found your new companion quite weird. He wouldn’t really speak and kept to himself, his nose lost in books or his thoughts. Sometimes, you forgot he was even there in the first place. You tried some small talk from time to time, but it never led anywhere, leaving the atmosphere in the room awkward until some other factor came to break it. You started to think you would never be able to ever befriend him. That was until one day when you saw him read one of your favorite classics in the living room of the house. You sat next to him and asked him if he enjoyed it. There was a moment of silence, before he nodded, stating that he was enjoying the story so far and explained his thoughts about it further. You both exchanged points and arguments about it for what was maybe a good hour, but felt like a few moments for you two. Then you realized that it was the first time you saw him talk with that much enthusiasm, even almost smile. Maybe you did manage to crack his shell after all.
Over the next few days, you both bonded over your favorite books and music and soon enough, you had befriended Brahms Heelshire, who became more comfortable in your company. Maybe too much for some. Everywhere you would go, he would go and if he couldn’t follow, he would watch over you like a hawk. This switch in behavior baffled Emily, as she told you that she had never seen him act this possessive with anyone else. You excused his behavior as him thinking of you as the big sister he never had since he grew up as an only child, but thinking about it years later, it’s true that it was odd. Once, you did go visit the Heelshire residence with Emily and remembered being astonished by how big it was. You even got lost in its labyrinth of seemingly endless corridors. You also met Mr and Mrs Heelshire for the first time too. Mr Heelshire was tall and always had a stern expression on his face. Mrs Heelshire on the other hand radiated a little more warmth at first glance, but still had the aura of a high lady you saw in period dramas. You were shocked at how old they looked, you didn't even know it was possible to have children this late, but made sure not to let it shown to not be rude. One other thing that you remember clearly from this visit was the giant portrait the family had made of them that they hung above their grand staircase. You thought that maybe this was a normal thing for rich families to do, though it did creep you out how…perfect it was made to be. Brahms looked even more like a flawless copy of himself, and he already kind of looked like a flawless doll in real life. You remember asking him what he thought of it, to which he stayed silent and changed the subject. You never talked of it again with him.
Eventually, the end of the summer came and it was finally time for you to return home. When he learned about it, Brahms threw a tantrum, only calming down when you promised you would eventually return. That summer, you made a new friend and plenty more memories to cherish. Although it would be the last of these summers you would have, for tragedy hit your little group like a bus. When your parents told you that Emily had passed away, you didn’t understand. The concept of death was foreign to you at that time. A freak accident, people said, though you did hear whispers the adults around you conversed around themselves about how odd the circumstances of her death were. The only person to have most likely been with her when she died was Brahms, and he had died soon after in a fire. Over the years, you heard many theories as to what truly happened in these woods that day : some said that the Heelshire couple were the true culprits, while others theorized that a third party had to be involved. But these held no real ground without proof. Eventually, people started to forget about it and resumed their lives, with their own lot of troubles to take care of. But you were never able to forget this tragedy and the mystery surrounding it. You tried many times to talk to your parents about it, but each and every time they would change the subject and tell you that the past was the past and that you should move on. This leads you to a few weeks ago. You were with two of your friends at a local pub, celebrating the start of a well earned weekend. While one of them left for the bathroom and the other left to get drinks, you flipped through the newspaper to pass time. In between the miscellaneous local news, you found an ad for a couple looking for a nanny to take care of their son. An ad you would’ve overlooked if it weren’t for a certain familiar name that caught your eye.
Looking for nanny to watch over our young son Brahms for a period of a couple of months. For more information, contact XXXX Heelshire at XX(XXX) XXX-XXXX…
At first, you thought you were seeing things, but after reading the ad over three times, you confirmed that you saw right. How was this even possible ? Brahms died a long time ago, and if he were still alive today he would be an adult. So why would the Heelshires need a nanny to take care of their dead son ? You talked about it with your friends and many theories emerged from your discussion, with the most likely being that the Heelshire just ended up having or adopting another kid and named him after their perfect first born child. Still, this all seemed fishy…
And that’s when an idea lit up in your mind.
This job offer was actually the perfect opportunity for you to look into the mystery of Emily’s passing that haunted your childhood. Also, as pointed out by your friends, this job would most likely pay pretty well. So you noted the phone number and called the Heelshires the next day to see if the job was still available. It was Mrs Heelshire that answered the phone and, after a little back and forth, agreed for an interview.
Which is how you found yourself in the situation you’re in now. You inhaled the crisp autumn air around you and exhaled, taking a crumpled note out of one of the pockets of your jacket. On it were written directions for you to follow to get to the manor and instructions on what to do once you arrived. You were to wait in the parlor until Mr or Mrs Heelshire came to meet you. Pretty simple to follow. You turned the doorknob of the main door, which was unlocked, and entered in what felt like the den of the beast. Even after all these years, you were still amazed by the place and its fancy wooden engraved walls, chandeliers and lavish decorations. Nothing had changed, still how you pictured it in your memory. Now…where was the parlor. This was one detail Mrs Heelshire forgot to mention in her instructions. Was it on the first or second floor ? You decided to try your luck on the second floor, slowly climbing the creaking wooden stairs and passing in front of the giant family portrait that still looked so oddly perfect and untouched by time. On the second floor were many rooms and on the wall of its halls were hung many portraits that showed generations upon generations of Heelshire family members. It felt like a more artistic way to illustrate a family tree. You peeked through most of the rooms : boudoirs, bathrooms, bedrooms, storage closets, but no signs of the parlor. The last room you checked though, made you stop.
A child’s bedroom that you were familiar with, that still looked the same as in your memories. The same red and golden sheets were neatly arranged on the bed, with the same old wallpaper and toys scattered around.
This was Brahms’s bedroom. Clearly, the Heelshire kept it untouched since his death, which didn’t sound too weird to you since you had heard of parents doing the same thing after the passing of a child to help with their grief. What was weird however was that this was seemingly the only child bedroom in sight. Did the Heelshire made their current child sleep in that room too ? You turned around and looked left and right to make sure no one was coming before entering the room. Today was one of those rare sunny days, so the room was fairly well illuminated by the soft rays coming through the window. A wave of nostalgia came over you as you quietly walked around the room, your fingertips grazing the wood of the small desk close to the window. On the shelf next to it were neatly organized books ranging from illustrated encyclopedias to litterary classics sumarized for young children and binders filled with music sheets of classical music. Not what you would expect a child to be into, but it was definetly something Brahms would be into. Come to think of it, the room did feel like a mix of a bedroom and a study. There was also the rocking horse in the corner, who always looked like something that was passed from generation to generation, with the paint covering the wood starting to chip in places. You once asked Brahms why he kept it in his room since he was clearly too old to play with it and he simply explained that his mother insisted on keeping it there. You then moved to the bed, admiring the finely embrodered quelt covering the sheets. There were no folds or creases anywhere on it. Honestly, now that you looked closely at it, you started to doubt a living child ever slept and played here. As much as your curiosity tried to push you into snooping around more, you decided to go against it. It wouldn’t look good for a first impression if the Heelshires caught you. As you were about to exit the room, you stopped in your tracks when you heard the sound of faint footsteps, but when you turned around, no one was there.
That’s weird, I swear I heard…
You thought, before shrugging it off. It was an old house, weird sounds were bond to be heard. Eventually, you did find the parlor and sat down on one of the many velvet covered chairs, waiting for someone to come get you. You tried not to touch any of the decorative trinkets placed around here and there, out of fear of breaking one of them and putting yourself in years of debt. After some time, an old woman entered the room, standing with grace and class. Her silver hair was neatly curled and styled, with not one hair out of place and the dusty pink cardigan and green plaid skirt she wore made her look like the picture perfect grandmother.
- “Miss…(L/N), is that right ?” she spoke, her voice sounding so familiar.
- “Yes.” you got up from your seat to meet her. “I hope I didn’t arrive too early.”
- “Not at all, you’re just in time.”
You shook each others hands, exchanging polite smiles. You could feel Mrs Heelshire’s gaze examining you from head to toes, as if she was looking for something. Your nerves were starting to grow uneasy and a chill ran down your spine.
- “Is…there something wrong ?” you asked hesitantly.
Mrs Heelshire paused, then shook her head and the thin esquisse of a smile could be seen on her face.
- “No, everything is fine.” she then motioned you to follow her. “Now, come along. We’ve kept them waiting long enough.”
She led you to what seemed to be the living room, who was similar in decoration to the parlor, except bigger, with a fireplace, paintings adorning its walls and many filled bookshelves. You noticed a man crouching in front of a chair, seemingly talking to someone in front of him, presumably their child. Mrs Heelshire cleared her throat to announce your presence, which made the man get up and turn to face you. His tall, well dressed figure towered over you.
- “Ah, Miss (L/N), welcome. I hope the instructions we left you on how to get here were clear.” he extended his hand for you to shake. “Our chauffeur could’ve brought you here if you would’ve liked.”
- “Oh no it was no problem.” you shook his hand, surprised by his strong grip for his age.
Mrs Heelshire moved to her husband’s side and both exchanged a look before revealing who was sitting in the chair Mr Heelshire was talking to. Or rather…what was sitting in that chair.
- “Miss (L/N), please allow us to introduce you to our dear son, Brahms.”
Sitting right in front of you was a child size porcelain doll, which looked just like how you remembered Brahms. Same hair, same suit, it was like it jumped right out of the hall painting. Out of everything, you did not expect…this. You felt the Heelshires eyes on you as they waited for a reaction out of you. You quickly snapped out of your shocked state and moved towards the doll. A mix of childhood nostalgia and a bit of apprehension filled you. Then a feeling of pity joined in. You started to pity the Heelshires. They had never gotten over their son’s death in the flames, but couldn’t bear to live without him, so they made a doll as a replacement. To love and care for, like no tragedy had ever cursed their family. You could still feel their gaze pierce the back of your skull, so you took a deep breath and smiled, crouching in front of the doll. If you wanted to get the job, you needed to play along.
- “It’s a pleasure to meet you Brahms. I’m (Y/N), I hope we’ll get along just fine, okay ?”
This reaction seemed to please the couple, with Mrs Heelshire sighing in relief, smiling at her husband. It was like you had passed a test of some sort. After this introduction, Mrs Heelshire explained to you that, if you were to take care of Brahms, there would be some rules to follow around the house and a strict schedule to follow. You listened carefully to everything. You had to wake up Brahms at the same time every morning, dress him up, have breakfast, then you had "class time", since Brahms was homeschooled (which consisted to read books out loud), then rinse and repeat. It seemed a bit farfetched how strict said schedule was, but you didn’t argue. The rules though made you raise an eyebrow.
First was that no guests were allowed at the residence, which was fair enough that they didn’t want any strangers walking around their house and their valuable belongings. Second was to never leave Brahms alone, again, fair enough since you were to treat him like a real child. It was around the third rule that things got weirder. The third rule was to save any extra meals (mostly those made for the doll that it couldn’t eat) in the freezer instead of being thrown away. When you asked why, Mrs Heelshire reminded you that the manor was located in a secluded area, surrounded by wildlife and that she had no intention of attracting any unwanted critters around her house. The fourth and fifth were to never cover Brahms’s face and to always read him a bedtime story. The sixth was to play some music using the old, but still functioning gramophone loud enough to be heard all around the house. Mrs Heelshire explained that music was Brahms’s whole world, which was true. You even remember him being a talented violinist. The seventh rule was to clear the rat traps around the house everyday to prevent rats from getting in. Mr Heelshire later showed you where the traps were located and how they worked. You watched him take out a bloody rodent carcass from one of the box traps like it was nothing, which made you gag a bit. As he threw it away, he suddenly turned to you, a bittersweet expression that made him look ten years older than he already was.
- “I know all of this must look odd to you, Miss (L/N). To be honest, I’m not sure how everything ended up like this myself…I guess this is what time does.” he cracked a smile, revealing the wrinkles around his tired eyes. “Whatever it might look like on the outside, our son is very much here with us.”
You didn’t know what to think of this and why it felt a little bit like a confession of sorts.
The eighth rule was that only Malcolm, the Heelshire’s delivery boy that you had yet to meet, was allowed to bring groceries to the residence. The ninth rule was to never bring Brahms outside the house and the final rule was to always kiss Brahms goodnight. After this little “How to take care of Brahms 101”, the Heelshires excused themselves with their “son” to talk to him. You waited outside the room, walking around back and forth in anticipation. You were a bit worried that you may have done something wrong or that they remembered you as being affiliated with the Cribbs, but that last one was unlikely. If they did recognize you as Emily's cousin, you doubted that they would've let you into their home, especially with all the rumors surrounding what happened to Emily and their son. After a few minutes, you tried to eavesdrop on the conversation happening in the room in front of you, but couldn’t hear anything clearly. Although you could’ve sworn to have heard a child’s voice along the Heelshires’s. After a few more minutes, the old couple exited the room, a satisfied look on their face.
- “He has accepted you--no, chosen you Miss (L/N).” Mrs Heelshire moved closer, wrapping her arms around you in a hug. You were hesitant at first, but reciprocated the embrace.
You only returned to the manor a few days later, with your personal affairs this time. Before they left, the Heelshires prepared for you a written list of the rules, to make sure you wouldn't forget about them. Mrs Heelshire reminded you once again how to properly hold Brahms, which weighed more than you expected a doll his size to weight, but still you could handle him with little to no problem. Once their private chauffeur arrived, you thought it nice to help him put the many suitcases the Heelshire had prepared for their vacation in the car. But once you grabbed one of them, you were surprised to see that it weight little to nothing. The chauffeur noticed it too and opened one of the larger cases, and stupor shone on his face once he saw that it was empty. All of them were. Yet the chauffeur just shook his head and continued to toss the suitcases in the back of the car, muttering something under his breath. Soon after, the old couple came out, finally prepared to leave. Mr Heelshire looked oddly nervous, which when you asked him if he was well, told you that it was just that it had been so long since him and his wife left for a holiday, so he was a bit anxious of leaving the residence. He also mention that he did regret that he didn’t get enough time to explain to you more about their son and his peculiar ways, but he was confident that you would figure it out just fine. Then Mrs Heelshire walked out, holding Brahms in her arms. She kissed her son one last time before handing him to you, in a way that felt almost too solemn, like a passing of the torch. Their whole attitude felt too solemn. They were supposed to leave for a vacation, yet you could sense their tensed nerves and see through their fake smiles. It was like they were leaving for a funeral instead. Before she followed her husband in the car, Mrs Heelshire held you in one last embraced, telling you in almost a chocked whisper.
- “I am so sorry…”
Her words rang back on repeat in your mind as you watched their car drive away in the distance. What did she mean by that ? Before you could answer that question, the chilly autumn air started to make you shiver, so you moved back into the house, carefully closing the door behind you while holding Brahms in your arms. At that moment, the silence that filled the immense Heelshire residence made you realized that you were now truly alone, which made you feel uncomfortable. Well, you weren't completely alone, you thought, as you looked at the porcelain doll in your arms.
And yet, even knowing that it was only you and that doll in that house, you coudn't help but feel invisible eyes on you watching your every move.