Peggy squinted up at the huge, gothic, dilapidated mansion
as she cautiously approached; trying to keep one eye on the road and the other
on the imposing mansion that looked like it belonged in an old Hitchcock movie.
She drew up to what appeared to be the entrance and stood for a moment with her
neck craned backwards to try and comprehend how large and overbearing this
ancient mansion was now she was right next to it. It had always stood on top of
the mountain far in the distance; a shadowy blight against the pastel
foreground that was the idyllic suburb that Peggy called home but now she had
wandered out of her world; perhaps too far. For a moment she thought to herself
that she must be insane to have travelled all this way up the mountain without
even telling anyone where she was but she was desperate for sales now. No one
ever bought her Avon goods and perhaps this day things would be different. She
had no idea just how different today would be...
Peggy held her Avon bag close to her and pushed open the
old, iron gate. She blinked for a minute as what she was imagining to see was
in fact replaced by the most surreal and beautiful garden that she had ever
seen. Directly in front of her was a path that led to an island with a
beautiful bush sculpture of a hand of cascading fingers. To the left, a
majestic sculpture of an antelope and directly to her right was a serpent; all
trimmed to perfection as if God himself had sculpted them in the Garden of
Eden. For a moment, it took Peggy’s breath away but she was drawn in to the
vibrant reds, oranges and yellows of the flowers that surrounded each
sculptured bush. Peggy didn’t know where to look next; she was a child in a
magical wonderland as she darted her eyes from leaping squirrels and animals of
every shape and size.
“Beautiful,” she softly whispered to herself as she pressed
forward, resisting the urge to wander the rest of the garden for hours. She
peered up at the dilapidated mansion and yelled “hello?” but no one answered.
She skipped up the stairs, forgetting the trepidation she previously felt as
surely anyone who created such a beautiful garden could not possibly be
dangerous. She banged the huge door knocker, and after a short glance back at
the garden, she pushed open the huge, wooden door as curiosity engulfed her.
Stepping in to the dark, vast room, Peggy called out “Hello?
Avon calling!” but still no one replied. The building looked vacant. There were
two covered chairs in the corner that were dimly lit by the two shafts of light
entering the broken windows and as Peggy walked further in to the room, she
stood in awe of the vastness of the room that resembled a factory with old,
dusty machines at the far end, eerily illuminated from the rays of sun that
entered the windows at the side. To her left, Peggy faced a long staircase with
iron railings that began by encasing a gothic sculpture that resembled the Grim
Reaper. She quickly began to ascend the stairs, jabbering that she was the
local Avon lady; more to calm her own nerves than anything else as she
approached the unknown. As the finally reached the top of the stairs, she turned
up a twisted staircase that led her in to an attic that was scattered with dark
shadows and patches of sun that entered the broken roof. There was nothing in
the room apart from Peggy and a disused fireplace full of photographs. As she
peered at them, trying to figure out who lived here, a noise shattered her
thoughts and she was aware that she was not alone...
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