VITALITY MANOR- FWG- FB 300 word flash fiction based on the picture below. Triggers: Death, Infant loss

She sturdied herself using the aged door frame and then slowly stepped onto the porch. Her hair a coarse gray, a single braid circled her noggin.

She carried a sterling holder, the flicker from the candle was the only light the night could see other than the full moon. It gave off just enough glow to show the many markers placed sporadically throughout the property. 

His long, wide feet clad in his weathered leather shoes heavily stepped behind her. He put his wrinkled hand upon her shoulder. Both blended in with the darkness, still choosing to put on the same black suit and dress that was given to them when they first took on the duties of the house. They now owned the home. 

The couple stared off into the distance but for a moment. He knew her heartache but not to the extent unto which she felt the pain. “Which one is it this time, dear?” He spoke of the cries that echoed over the hillside. “Number twenty-seven.” She whispered as she buried her head into the old man’s chest. There were thirty-eight tombstones, holding thirty-eight of her infant children that never made it past day one. She spent thirty-two of her years with child, none of whom she was able to nurture, and watch grow, or even give a proper name.

The wickedness of Vitality Manor fed off each of the newborns as they entered the world, taking their first and last breath all at once, giving the property the strength it needed to survive.

She looked up at her beloved, bags under her eyes, lines throughout her forehead, her lips tightened from the years of frowning in grief. “It was never your fault.” She spoke clearly and with authority as she pushed her husband to the ground, knowing his weakened physical state would not allow for him to regain an upright position.

She dropped the candle to the ground, igniting a fire. She kneeled down beside him, falling gently over. They held onto one another, giving the house their only asset, their lives, an old poison that would suffocate everything in its path. The already dead land would soon disintegrate.