The Manor was located nestled deep amidst the thick forests and still-pristine valleys that made the state of Virginia beautiful during any season of the year. The location that Jason West, the current owner had decided upon nine years earlier to purchase, was a large expansive tract that paralleled state route 122 between the small towns of Oronoco and Montebello Virginia. His estate was actually within the boundaries of the George Washington National Forest and from almost anywhere one stood on the grounds they could take in the magnificent view of Mt. Pleasant which was only five miles distant. The lush long needle pines and indigenous trees of black walnut, oak, white birch and weeping willow that grew in the area added a fine color of green and off-white that complimented the enchanting panoramic view of the flaming Virginia sun rises and its quiet sunsets.
The estate house proper, was an old dwelling that had its own vivid and unique history. The original construction of this sprawling, white structure was built by Silas Johnson with the help of a handful of settlers who had migrated to this section of the country in the spring of 1833. Over the years and along with the ownership changing hands, additions and reconstruction in modernization had taken place based entirely on the whims and the needs of each particular owner.
During the early days at the outbreak of the Civil War, Silas had been leaning toward the south and its views on slavery, land and rights. His feelings were based in the fact that the land was rich, he was rich and being rich meant that servants, and slaves were an essential part of a southern household. However, being so close to the nations capitol and the fact that he was nearing his forty-fifth year on God's earth, Silas changed his perspective early on. When asked by his sons why he switched his long held ways and views, Silas said simply, “When a man gets older and closer to meeting his maker, he has a tendency to do things that he knows are right and proper in Gods great plan but, a task and hard challenge to do righteously nevertheless.”
Silas would pass on and meet his maker the next summer. Before he did, he kept his part and was true to his word by using his place as a station for the first trickle of the runaway slaves fleeing the harsh whip of the plantation overseers further south.. His root cellars and barns became one of the stopping off and waylay points along the Underground Railway. Silas’s sons continued to honor and respect their fathers beliefs adopting them entirely as their own until the end of the Civil War. Their sons were taught their fathers values and kept silent when the local Union Army would search the grounds. The Manor became a well-known historical site due to this during the early nineteen fifties and a marker was erected by the Daughters of the American Revolution on the grounds telling of Silas Johnson's place of sanctuary. A lifetime deed cast into grayish-black metal telling of the tale in less than thirty words.
As most southerners are given to do, the long list of families that occupied the house were hard working, decent people. Many had sons go off to whatever war or trouble spot flared up in the world. Many of those sons of Virginia never saw the forests and brooks again either. Others did return and were buried on the land in a quiet communal plot that was located three miles west of the main house. Although it seemed unusual for each owner who had suffered the loss of a son during war to have his kin buried along with strangers, it was no more so out of tradition and respect that they had done so. It was something that the men of the Manor did when they sold off their land. They always mentioned the cemetery and the history of the place to the new buyer. Each owner of the land thought of the dead buried there as family. Caretakers, generations of them, always groomed the ground giving special attention as a way of silent tribute to the area in the alcove of spruce pine that surrounded the older plots and much recent headstones.
Jason West knew much of the history of his land. He thought about it frequently. Under his ownership he had expanded the Manor, which he privately called Winchester due to his liking of the name, into a lavish resort hotel. Hiring a slew of draftsmen, architects, builders, housekeeping staff and a full ensemble of employees, the Manor as it was privately known to the locals, became a Mecca for the fortunate class of society. It was the current choice getaway resort for political figures, the wealthy, and entertainers from all over the globe. These guests were screened carefully by the staff well in advance to ensure that clientele would be pampered and more importantly, had the needed financial resources to stay there either for the short or long term. Jason was a very wealthy individual from his Manor profits and he wielded a fair share of power in other areas of life as well.
Jason harbored many secrets that no one other than a very special woman living in England knew. When asked his age, Jason merely replied that he was, "Three and thirty years old," and left it at that.
For all intensive purposes, he did look like a male of that age. His true age was only one fascinating word on a page of the book of many secrets that danced behind his sad tinged, striking emerald green eyes.
Jason Christian West was much older than he appeared to be. Much older.
Centuries older in fact.
He was a vampire.