Helena B. Scott > Quotes

“I watched the woman in her mortal sleep, my nightmares now becoming hers. And as I watched, from my distant prison of stone, in the midnight silence, I heard the undying screams. I would continue to hear them every night; a reminder that pain
does indeed continue eternally. Contrary to what we had hoped, death did not bring a sweet release from life’s torture, but an endless torment.”
― Helena B. Scott, Loftus: The Hall of Dreams

“The mansion stood proudly at the end of the new driveway, on the other side of the iron gates that the woman had come to know so well. A house once much loved, it had been abandoned and cursed, as a corpse buried in unholy ground.”
― Helena B. Scott, Loftus: The Hall of Dreams

“Loftus Hall was yet again empty and abandoned as many years before. But echoes of sadness, hopes, and memories lingered in the deafening silence. The woman closed her eyes and silently prayed for those who remained within its walls. She felt deeply for them; their unfinished stories and words
unsaid. Unable to say goodbye and now in the realm of the dead, she could feel their heartbeats as strongly as her own.”
― Helena B. Scott, Loftus: The Hall of Dreams

“But time, rather impatiently, waits for no one. As I waited for her to return, the seasons had faded in and out in a cycle of rebirth. Flowers and grass now shyly decorated the forsaken grounds and earthen graves, much like in cemeteries; as a reminder, lest we forget, of life or some form of existence after death.”
― Helena B. Scott, Loftus: The Hall of Dreams

“The lights then came on and we all heard the radio. It was time to go home. But the woman didn’t want to leave and the house wanted her to stay. As she got up from the floor, she looked at the walls and knew it would not be the last time. No, she would return. “Soon, very soon” she whispered, and a new promise was made within these walls. Without a sound,
she wished Anne and the others a good night, thanking them as her soul…wept. She then stood next to the wooden staircase she loved so much. Gently, she pressed her hand on the wood while touching the banister; looking up, her eyes reassuring told us that she would be back.”
― Helena B. Scott, Loftus: The Hall of Dreams

“Old homes are enigmatical. It is a given that
historic properties always come with countless invisible guests and much that remains hidden. They become alive through the people that reside in them. They breathe, love, and dream much the same way mortals do. Awakening, with every heartbeat
and regretting every tear as they scream in silence. And if we listen carefully, we may be able to understand the meaning of such unexplainable noises. In time, walls deteriorate and their splendour fades. All that remains then is their skeletal structure and soul; the eternal memories of all those who lived and died within. And that is, in essence, what ghosts truly are. Shadows of what we once were, yet somehow refusing or unable to cease in existence. But some things are just not meant to last forever; it
is unnatural.”
― Helena B. Scott, Loftus: The Hall of Dreams

“Having lost the will to live, we somehow survived
from one encounter to the next. Absences in between were filled with sighs that became a melancholy melody. And when we did meet, we fed voraciously as revenants on the only thing that sustained our existence: our love for each other. Love is
madness, if it is at all lived as it should it be. It is the fever of an incurable disease. Addictive and lethal, love…love is the most potent poison known to man. And the more we loved, the more alive we felt. But love’s bitter-sweet aftertaste was an illusion. Each moment shared only brought us closer to our end as we fell from grace.”
― Helena B. Scott, Loftus: The Hall of Dreams

“Anne’s home then was already centuries old and though beautiful as it was, I cannot say I had ever felt at ease in the great Hall. Shadows, creaks, and groans as well as whispers and growls have forever lived within its walls. Evil was part of its foundations and even then, the rambling mansion harboured many souls and secrets. This is something inevitable in a place as old as Loftus Hall.”
― Helena B. Scott, Loftus: The Hall of Dreams

“We were alone and yet, I had the undeniable feeling we were being watched. But for all I looked, there was not another soul in sight. With the exception of course, of the stone eagles perched on the roof, which as daylight faded, looked more like gargoyles. Monsters in stone much like those of any nightmare,
the finials had guarded the Hall and its secrets for centuries. Their features had been delicately carved and in the mist, resembled grotesque winged demons.”
― Helena B. Scott, Loftus: The Hall of Dreams