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Who is Tulovski? (standard:horror, 3921 words) | |||
Author: Hulsey | Added: Nov 04 2003 | Views/Reads: 4280/2706 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
(Rewrite) A ghostly tale that will interest the historians. | |||
Who is Tulovski? I was now accustomed to the hostile stares and scowls that the locals offered me, when I enquired about the elusive man who had once inhabited my cottage. It all started about three months ago when I married my childhood sweetheart, Holly. We often used to visit Whitby, the remarkable, mysterious fishing village and seaside resort made famous by Captain Cook, and of course Count Dracula. Why Bram Stoker chose Whitby for his setting for his famous classic novel is obvious. With its numerous cobbled streets and old cottages, it makes a wonderful location for a horror tale. Then of course, there's the ancient cemetery and old abbey that are perched on the cliff and overlook the harbour. The abbey as a child enchanted me, as there were so many stories involving countless ghosts, which at the time; I had no reason to doubt. Whether the stories were authentic or not, Whitby never failed to stimulate me with its alluring charm. After numerous visits to the North Yorkshire town during the summer months, we fell in love with the place, and promised that when we did eventually marry, Whitby would be our home. One cottage in particular caught our eye. It was within throwing distance of the abbey and had been empty for many years, which somewhat surprised us, as it was in a prime location with wonderful views of the sea. After a visit to the estate agent, we were somewhat astounded at the asking price of fifty thousand pounds. If I had the cash on me, I would have gladly produced it there and then, as we were expecting Saltwick Cottage to be at least twice that price. After viewing the said structure, we were more determined than ever to make it our abode. True, it needed a lot of work, but I was due time off from my job as a journalist with a local newspaper. We were over-enthusiastic about our dream home. The white, ivy covered walls of the cottage added a little authenticity to the place, which must have been steeped in history. Holly, being a genealogy nut, could not wait to visit the local library and study the census, to discover who had inhabited our home over the years. The locals at first eyed us with suspicion, for this was a close-knit community. Later, after realising that this young couple offered no threat to their humdrum everyday lives, we were eventually accepted. Our lives were about to change dramatically one fine morning in June. Being a Sunday morning, I decided on a lie in, but the shafts of sunlight probing through the curtains, coupled with the squawking of the seagulls roused me. Distant bell ringing coming from the local church conspired to rob me of my habitual slumber. I leant over to see Holly sleeping peacefully, her long, red hair cascading over her slender shoulders, a content smile on her face. With her petite nose and fresh complexion, she could easily pass for a girl much younger than her twenty-three years. I kissed her before rising and heard the whistling of the postman who approached the cottage. I waited in anticipation for the mail, as I was expecting a reply from the Daily Mirror about my recent application. I felt my talents were being wasted at the Evening Gazette and aspired for greater things. As I leafed through the usual bills, one tatty looking envelope held my gaze. It was addressed to a Mr Tulovski. The address was given as Saltwick Cottage, but there had to be a mistake and so I put the letter to one side. My first chore of the morning was a visit to the local shop for newspapers and milk, which we had not yet arranged for delivery. Needing the exercise, I decided to jog to the village, so I dressed suitably in a vest and shorts. On exiting the cottage, my attention was averted towards a strange looking man who was standing at the edge of the cliff and looking out to sea. He was bizarrely attired in a long, black robe that flapped wildly in the sea breeze. My first thoughts were for his safety, for he Click here to read the rest of this story (441 more lines)
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