Gypsy was buried on the property. She had no other family, so a small private funeral was held. Marion held Samual who was just a few days ago. Dressed in a black dress and veil, she sighed as the priest said the final prayer and the few staff members who were closest with Gypsy during her brief stay here bowed their heads. Her aunt was due home earlier than expected after receiving news about poor Gypsy. She was send a telegram, and was due home by the end of the week. Marion also reached out to Eric, telling him it was urgent, and she needed him here right away. At first she wasn't sure if Eric would never respond after what happened here. Yet, low and behold he answered her almost instantly and told her he would try and come back as soon as possible. The news of Gypsy's death spread fast throughout the house, and Marion instantly felt awful that such a terrible thing had happened. After speaking with the staff, everyone agreed she had been a kind, generous, understanding young woman. The butlers, maids, kitchen staff, construction workers, even the gardeners all said the same thing. When they were first informed Mrs. Winchester was bringing in an outside person to look after her house durning what she insisted would be her final trip, they were on the fence. Especially the fact she was a "psychic". At first many thought she was a con artist, taking advantage of Mrs. Winchester, but from the second she arrived, they saw they had been completely wrong. She was soft spoken, sweet, and caring Marion thought back on the few months they shared, and sighed looking at the headstone. It seemed fitting she would be buried in the rose garden, one of her favorite places to sit out with Marion as they talked and watched Henry play. Marion thought back on her confessing about Henry's father, and how awful the marriage had gotten before his violent death.
As always Gypsy would listen, her hand gently rubbing her round belly which grew with her child with each passing day. How could she have lived with such a terrible secret? She knew if she hadn't experienced what had happened here durning the great earthquake, she might try and shrug it off as the ramblings of a dying woman who was bleeding out. Instead, she knew she had told the truth. Ben, the same spirit that possessed her son, and had nearly murdered her aunt had somehow returned. Had he raped poor Gypsy? Wanting his wife who had died tragically along with their adult son? She had read up on Mr. Block as well as the rumors surrounding what had happened surrounding the massacre in one of her uncle's shops years ago. She had seen photographs of the young man in his uniform, holding a musket. Sighing, she knew her son was in danger if Gypsy had been right. Before she died, she was carrying on and on about an evil spirit. Looking down at this beautiful baby, sleeping soundly, dressed in a lace black gown, unaware that he was at his mother's funeral, and if she had been right, his father was a revengeful spirit, that would stop at nothing to get his precious family back. She had read about the miscarriages and stillbirths. How there was talk that this sweet young couple, who were put into an arranged marriage through their parents for a business deal, had been "cursed" She had looked up and saw he lost his two brothers during the war, killed by her uncle's invention. How he had snapped, and the rumors that flew around of him violently raping his wife, and her suicide attempt. Following that, the massacre. She had looked up his widow, who had survived the suicide attempt.
How she gave birth to a healthy baby boy named Elijah, and lived a quiet life until a carriage accident killed the two of them as they were traveling to San Jose. Were they headed here? Did she know something? Sighing, she looked around. As soon as she spoke to her aunt and the doctor she wanted to get Henry out of here. It was bad enough she nearly lost him before... Gazing up at at the massive house she sighed, shifting the baby's weight between her arms as she continued staring, feeling frightened for the first time in a very long time...
Later that week...
"This is nonsense..."
Eric sighed pacing Sarah's office. Marion held the sleeping baby in her arms. For the last few days this newborn had been a complete little angel. He slept most of the time, even though the night. The maids brought milk, and fussed over how beautiful he was, his hair coming in dark all ready, as he gazed up with eyes that all ready appeared to be a light hazel shade. Marion had his crib placed in the Daisy room she was staying in with Henry, and each night she laid awake on edge, waiting to hear that same haunting voice softly sing...
"Beautiful dreamer, wake onto me..."
Instead nothing. Now days later her aunt and Eric had arrived. Everyone was on edge and Marion filled them in.
"That's what she said, trust me...I grew to know Gypsy, why would she lie? I saw it in her eyes, she was frightened..."
"Then if he is still alive, somehow, somehow...the real Ben isn't here anymore. Whatever evil possessed him to rape his wife and Gypsy, to kill all those people, and attack us...that's all that's left. He'll be smart this time, hiding. Marion, I'm fetching a carriage. You, master Henry, and Samual are to leave at once."
"But Aunt Sarah..."
"No, I've had enough. He won't harm anyone else...you must go right away."
"I'm going with you."
Eric said. Instantly Marion raised an eyebrow.
"I spoke to your aunt and we decided the further away the baby is the better. You have Henry Marion, I...don't have anything. I started up my practice, and...I need a sense of purpose..."
"You want to take the baby?"
"Only if you would allow."
"Eric, raising a child is..."
"I know, but...maybe this is what I needed all along. I'll be a good father to him."
"What if she was right, what if evil is all ready inside of him?"
"Then better he's alone with me than with Henry. I'll try my hardest to raise him right."
"And if you see him turning? Part of him isn't natural...a revengeful spirit conceived him..."
"He'll be my son, in that way...Gypsy won't die in vain. I'll raise him to be a good man. I promise."
Looking torn, Sarah sniffled staring down at the sleeping baby.
"His mother was a good person. Promise me you'll take care of him."
Sighing, Marion glanced over at Sarah.
"Please leave Aunt Sarah, you're not safe..."
Sarah smirked, shaking her head.
"Whatever time I have left, I'm spending it there in my house. Ben can't hurt me anymore. He's trapped. I have a plan, just take Henry and leave...please darling."
Sighing, Marion nodded, before she stared down at the baby boy, sleeping soundly, unaware of what was happening.
Ben knew they were planning on taking his son. He wouldn't allow it. He would find a way to put Elijah's spirit inside this newborn, and then he would use that bitch Marion to be the vessel for Autumn. He would get her back, and they would continue on having children, dozens of them, living here, never growing old, together again. His blue eyes scanned the hallways, searching for his son. Just last night he visited the bedroom as Marion and her son slept soundly. Marion's hand gently resting on the painted bars of the crib. He stood in the darkness, gazing down at the baby and smiled. He was absolutely perfect. He planned on taking him soon, and if that bitch Sarah or Marion tried to stop them, he would raise Hell. This morning, he franticly searched. He knew they hadn't left yet. Walking up and down the halls, he looked for him when suddenly he heard crying. Freezing, he lifted an eyebrow and listened.
Quickly climbing the stairs, he hurried down a hallway, before he saw through an open doorway Marion, holding his newborn son, dressed in a silly lace christening gown. His eyes narrowing, he marched forward entering the door, when he saw her step back, walking backwards, still holding onto the baby.
He heard a voice shout behind him. Turning, he glared and saw the doctor just seconds before he slammed the door. Whipping his head around, he stared and saw Marion holding his baby, scared to death before a staff member slammed the door as well. Seconds later the sound of hammering. Eyes widening, he knew what they were doing.
He roared, trying to make himself go elsewhere.
Instead...he was trapped.
They had done it, sealed him with on each side with 13 nails. He had been foolish enough to fall for it, and now he was trapped. Face crumpling, he screamed out in complete anger, his blood boiling, as he threw over a small end table, face flushed. How could he have been so stupid?
"NOOOOO!" He roared, knowing it was too late.
Sarah was seeing off both Marion, Henry, Eric, and Samuel. Two separate carriages were waiting for them outside. Eric held Samuel, who was wrapped up. Smiling, he stared at Sarah.
"Are you sure it's safe?"
"It will hold. Trust me, I have others that are sealed in. This was the only way."
"Are you sure you won't come with us?"
Marion asked. Smiling, Sarah gently cupped her niece's face.
"I'm sure. This is my home."
Nodding, Marion faced Eric before sighing. Looking down at the sleeping baby, she sighed before she looked up at him.
"Take good care of him Eric."
"That's a promise."
With that, everyone went into their separate carriages, and as Eric's was driven away, he knew for certain, this would be the last time he ever visited the house. Sighing, he looked down at the sleeping away. His son. He was more than a little overwhelmed and scared, but he knew Ruby and himself had always wanted a family. Now that he had cleaned up his act, and was starting his practice, there actually seemed to be hope. Smiling, he continued to stare down at the baby.
"Well, we certainly are in store for a new adventure aren't we?"
The baby continued to sleep as Eric smiled, bringing him in close, and kissing the top of his smooth soft head.
Ben stood trapped in a room that would be his prison well after Sarah Winchester died. Eventually the room would be opened, like the others. This was long after Marion took over, sold most of everything at auction after her aunt's death, and moved to the East Coast with her son. She donated the house to the town of San Jose, and finally it became a landmark as well as a tourist attraction/museum. She wrote Eric, and both continued doing so for many years. Marion remarried, and slowly the letters stopped. Eric figured it was just as well, like so many people no matter what they survived through, they simply drifted apart. He thought of the house often, knowing the spirts were loose, yet still trapped inside.
He thought of Ben, but knew better than to ever venture too close. He remained in Northern California, never going anywhere near San Jose. He knew if he did, something terrible would happen. Just like Ben's wife and his son. Accidents happened, simply dismissed, as the house continued to hold prisoners. He never remarried, but lived his years out in the city practicing medicine, and living a happy healthy life. He lived until the age of sixty-eight, and finally one night in his study, he suffered a heart attack, and was found the next morning by his maid. His tea cold, his book open on his chest, and his pocket watch still in his hand, holding a faded photograph of his late wife.
His son Samuel received news that same day. Samuel had been raised by Eric and the two of them had been very happy. Eric often said if it hadn't been for Samuel, he wouldn't have stayed sober, let alone find hope in his life. Many memories of him carrying him on his shoulders up and down the steep hills of the city laughing. Samuel went to school, and was currently working at a printing shop. He loved to paint, and actually was pretty great at it. He had just begun to sell pieces, all beautiful oil paintings of stained glass windows that he claimed he had never seen before, but had dreamed up.
Eric meanwhile knew these widows...they were the windows from the Winchester house. The two remained close, Samuel living across town, visiting his adopted father every Sunday for dinner, and a game of chess. A bachelor up until just a few years ago. He was the spitting image of his real father, the same exact face, besides the hazel color of his eyes, and dark hair. He knew Eric hadn't been his real father, and following the doctor's death, shortly after the funeral, him and his new fiancé' went through his townhouse. clearing it out. Going through his office, he paused and found a letter addressed to him. Raising an eyebrow, he sat back before opening it.
The letter was several pages long. Sitting down, he began to read, his eyes widening in disbelief. At first he didn't want to believe it, but he knew his "father" had never lied to him, let alone wasn't in his right mind when he wrote this. He could tell he was telling the truth. Sighing, a handsome young man, conceived one terrible night, part human, part spirit, looking nearly exactly like the handsome thin young man who was gunned down many years ago after killing fifteen others. Staring up, he sighed rereading the last few sentences over and over again.
"The house is controlled by evil spirits. Look for patterns, accidents, deaths. He'll be searching again. It could take decades, you might not even be alive at this point, maybe your children, or even your grandchildren will have to wait...teach them this secret, and tell them it's their responsibility. When your certain he's searching for her again and more will die...you'll know what to do."
Folding the letter he sighed. He didn't know what to say to April his fiancé. Could he even say anything? Sitting there in Eric's office, he vaguely knew of the mansion in San Jose, but had no idea he had such a strong connection to it. Sighing, he crossed his arms before he glanced down at a framed photograph of Eric and himself when he was just a little boy. Feeling his chest tighten, he knew this was crazy, but if Eric believed it, he wouldn't dismiss it. No, he would believe. Nodding, he folded the letter and put it in his jacket pocket. Not knowing that he would have to wait, many years in fact. Actually more than a hundred years later. Samuel's great grandson, also named Samuel. A handsome man, much like his great grandfather, grandfather, and father all looking exactly alive. Thin, high cheekbones, hazel eyes, and thick dark hair. All looking so much like Ben Block.
He had been given the letter when he turned sixteen, at first thinking this was completely insane, until the articles, letters, and evidence was spread out before him by his father. He knew it had to be true. So he waited. Now at the age of thirty-one, he finally received news of the latest death. It was happening again, he was certain. He would drive down to San Jose, posing as a photographer. That had always been the plan. He loaded his old fashion antique Winchester rifle, and took a deep breath. He knew he might very well die doing this, but it had to end now. His entire family had been passed down from generation to generation to end this.
They had waited long enough. It was time. Wearing jeans, a black T-shirt, and a leather jacket, Samuel brushed back his wavy hair and nodded slamming he trunk of his car. This would end by tomorrow evening. He swore it. Getting behind the wheel of his car, he started the engine, and began heading straight to San Jose, headed straight towards the cursed spirit that had started all of this.