Just for some background information, I purchased Harlow Manor using the hefty inheritance money I got from my Grandfather after he passed.

“Austin,” he had said, lying there on his deathbed, decaying in front of me,” I want you to open up a Bed & Breakfast.”

It was a dark time in my life and I guess he figured a Bed & Breakfast was just the thing to get me out of my funk. So I did what any good grandson would do, and fulfilled my grandfather's last dying wish.

The twelve room, seven bath Victorian mansion was built in 1901 so there were some repairs to be made, but overall the structural integrity of the building was pretty intact for a one-hundred-something year old piece of architecture.

The countless DIY projects around the manor kept me focused and motivated to finish what I started- something I rarely did back then. Six months after I first acquired Harlow Manor, my quaint little B&B opened its doors for the first time.

The property itself was only a twenty minute drive from the nearest town and overlooked a large body of water named Carmel lake. Harlow manor was fairly secluded, surrounded by lush woods with a few hiking trails, and had a nice view. A perfect place for a nice weekend getaway.

Everything about Harlow Manor was practically perfect, at least from the outside, however I discovered some of the mansion's quirks during renovations.

In an effort to get to know the Manor a bit more, I did a little digging into its history and found out it was believed to be built on something called a ley line which apparently attracts the supernatural or something. At first I didn’t know what to think, but after seeing the… unique… clientele Harlow Manor attracts, and my personal experiences within the mansion, there might be some validity to that statement.

The first few weeks went as well as they could’ve and I actually got a few five star ratings on Yelp! However, after a few incidents that caused me to go down to a four star rating, I meticulously and thoughtfully created a list of rules that not only kept my patrons safe from things in the manor and other patrons themselves, but kept them comfortable as well.

So if you ever want to come visit me at Harlow Manor and stay for a few days please remember to follow these five simple rules:

Rule 1. DO NOT engage with the thing in your closet under ANY circumstances!

This is rule number one for a reason, so if you’re going to remember one rule on this list, make sure it’s this one.

I don’t know what the presence that lurks in my closet is, but I just call it The Thing. My first encounter with it was my first night in Harlow Manor. Obviously since I run a Bed & Breakfast I’m going to live in it, so my room is what used to be the maid’s quarters. It’s essentially an apartment within the mansion that has three rooms, an en-suite bathroom, walk-in closet, living room, and kitchenette.

I had finished moving all my boxes and furniture in and even unpacked all my clothes and had started setting up my office in the next room. I was exhausted from the physical labor of it all, but my body just didn’t want to go to sleep yet. I think I was just nervous about sleeping in a new place, but it was in that halfway state in between sleep and consciousness that I heard it.

“Austin~”

My eyes opened and I listened intently. I thought I had heard something, but wasn’t sure.

“Austin, come here!” The old gravely voice said again. This time I sat up in bed and scanned my room. The full moon was shining in through my window so the room was illuminated enough to where I could make out my surroundings. My eyes landed on the walk-in closet’s door that was slightly ajar. I could’ve sworn the door was closed when I first went to bed.

If it wasn’t that the presence lurking in the closet knew my name that irked me, it was that it sounded just like my grandfather.

“G-grandpa?” I stammered out, clutching my blanket like it would save me.

“Yes!” The voice whispered excitedly. “Austin it’s me! Come in here and save me!” It begged.

I felt some sort of compulsion overcome me at that moment and clouded my judgement. An intense desire to just spring up out of my bed and run into the closet… and I did. Without any hesitation I got out from under the covers and B-lined for the closet.

I was just about to place my hand on the door knob and open the closet all the way, when my body stopped moving.

Wait a minute…

My grandfather died, I watched him pass away on his deathbed.

“You can’t be my grandfather.” I said to the thing in my closet, taking a step back. “He’s dead.”

“No! No I’m not, I’m right here, Austin. I need you to come in here and get me out!”

“If you’re really my grandfather, then why can’t you come out of the closet?” I questioned.

“I-I’m stuck!” The thing yelled out in a frustrated yell, a long pause of silence followed.

“I’m stuck and I’m hungry!” It suddenly shouted. Then, loud shouts, yells, and rustling erupted from inside my closet. I quickly thrust the closet door closed and made a mad dash for the couch down in the foyer.

The next morning when I inspected my closet, there was nothing in there. Nothing had been touched and it looked just like a normal closet. That night it returned again, but I ignored all the voices of my loved ones threatening to kill and eat me coming from inside the closet by clutching the firmest pillow I owned over my head. The next day I purchased a good pair of earplugs and finally got some good, uninterrupted sleep.

Originally, I thought The Thing was only contained in my closet, but in reality it lurks in any and all closets in the Manor.

It was the second weekend after Harlow Manor opened to the public. A very sweet young lady came in for a weekend getaway all to herself. She was staying in one of the regular guest rooms. It was mid-day when she called down to the front desk I had set up in the back of the foyer, right between the grand staircase.

She had called complaining about the people in the room next to her, saying she could hear them talking through the walls. When I checked my computer system, there was nobody staying in either rooms next to her on either side. She mumbled something about a long drive after I told her and hung up. A few hours went by with nothing happening until she called again, right before 9 PM (refer to Rule 2) just before I headed in for the night. Frantically she explained how she heard the voice of her dead mother whispering to her from her closet and how it kept switching between that and her recently deceased boyfriend.

My heart sank to my stomach as I quickly ran to her room. She was still alive, but very much freaked out when I got there. I upgraded her to one of the family suites on the third floor free of charge and helped move her things up there. Before leaving, I reassured her that it was probably nothing, but warned her to ignore any sounds she thought she heard coming from the closet.

I really hoped she’d heeded my warning, but when her checkout time came and went the next morning I had a sneaking suspicion The Thing got to her. It was after that lady’s disappearance that the Manor’s list of rules started to formulate in my brain.

I also came to the realization that the people who I thought walked out of their rooms, leaving all their stuff behind, didn’t actually walk out.

The Thing in the closet is a pretty persistent bastard, I’ll admit, which is why earplugs are now available for purchase for $3 at the front desk.

Rule 2. All tenants must be in their rooms by 9 PM

This rule only really applies to my normal and non-nocturnal guests, but it needed to be included on the list.

If you’re wondering why the mansion is called Harlow Manor, it’s named after the man who had it built. David Harlow was an architect in the early twentieth century. He made sure his house was built to nothing but his exact standards.

David Harlow was said to be a very cruel, cold, and calculated man that nobody wanted to mess with. His intimidating shadow loomed over his family as well. He wanted them to be nothing but perfect, just like his architecture.

One day, his teenage daughter, Priscilla, snapped and murdered her entire family. With. A. Twig.

She stabbed it in her family members eyes and then stabbed a smiley face in their abdomens with it.

I make good money when the true crime fanatics come to visit, especially around Halloween.

Now, it’s said that Priscilla locked herself in the Manor’s attic after her brutal attack and basically nested in there, only coming down to feast on the rotting corpses of her family. It’s rumored that she became nocturnal after isolating herself up in the dark attic by herself for weeks, only coming down at night to feast. She died in the attic from dehydration and starvation after picking the bones clean from the skeleton of her father, who she saved for last.

Sadly, this is true, and her ghost roams the halls at night. She leaves me alone since I started to leave packages of raw ground beef outside my door (met her when she was digging in my trash can, eating some rotted ground beef I threw out- hence the ground beef). Priscilla won’t bother some of the special patrons either. She won’t go into the guests rooms for some reason, but if she catches you sneaking about in the hallways of the house she’ll drag you up to the attic and devour you.

It took me a while to figure out that it wasn’t The Thing taking small children and elderly guests, but Priscilla. I didn’t know she ate people until the B&B opened to the public. I figured it out when she left the skeleton of a child in front of my door as a thank you gift for all the raw meat I gave her.

That’s when I started suggesting people be in their rooms by 9 PM, but didn’t enforce it.

Most parents complained about their children wandering out of their rooms and probably out into the forest- same with the old folks kids- so I implemented the rule so they’d stop nagging and complaining. I also got tired of lugging all that luggage down to the basement. There’s only so much storage space down there you know.

So at 9 PM all guests must stay in their rooms for the rest of the night. You don’t have to go to bed and can fuck around until you go to bed, just in your room and not in the halls.

Because of the rule I stopped accepting late check-ins, interacting with guests (only doing so if they called and in case of an emergency) and started locking the front door of the Manor.

If people stay out past nine and find the front door locked, tough shit. Should’ve read the rules, because I don’t let people back in until morning.

Parents think it’s because of “the wandering kid” issue and I let them believe it.

On the flip side, Priscilla isn’t very happy with me now and stopped gifting me children’s skeletons.

Rule 3. No garlic, salt, silver, or holy water is permitted on the premises

This is a Bed & Breakfast, so while I provide meals for my guests, you don’t have to eat what I cook. Many guests bring hot plates and stuff to cook their own food in. The rooms are big enough to fit tables in and each room has a mini fridge as well, so you’re perfectly capable of feeding yourself.

But, please be mindful of other guests' allergies.

While I understand you want to season your food, it is quite rude and unfair to keep the nocturnal guests from eating their meals without having to put up a fight. It’s not my fault if you invited another sparkling and mysterious patron into your room or if you came in on the night of a full moon.

Rule 4. No pets!

Again, people have allergies and I don’t want to spend my days cleaning dog/cat piss and shit off the floor, carpets, mattresses, and walls.

People also have weird pets. This tall, gaunt looking guy tried to come in one day with a giant three headed dog once. Shut that down real quick and told him to find someone where else to stay.

The guy wasn’t very happy and the dog left a giant shit in the yard. That was not a fun day.

And last but not least:

Rule 5. ALWAYS leave a tip!

Seriously, please leave a tip. I work very hard to ensure all my guests have a helpful and amazing stay at Harlow Manor.

There’s a very big and nice glass jar with a “tip jar $$” label sitting on the right hand side of the front desk, *wink *wink. It doesn’t matter if it’s when you’re checking in, checking out, or just hanging out in the foyer during the day, just drop some money in it. Even as little as a few quarters are appreciated! I also accept Apple Pay, Venmo, Cashapp, and Paypal!

Besides, it’s not worth losing your life over.

Don’t get me wrong, managing and running this Bed & Breakfast is my life and I absolutely love it, but there’s so much stress when it comes to the hospitality business. Dealing with Karen’s and Kyles all day isn’t fun, and plus a man’s got to get rid of his stress somehow.

Remember how I told you I was in a very dark and low place when my grandfather died? I was stressing and spiraling about school and financial problems then. Before the B&B I had my own way of dealing with stress. The Smiley Face Murders ring any bells?

Well, anyway, I take my frustrations out on those that don’t tip now. So a lot of my stress reliever is practically handed to me on a silver platter!

So again, please be mindful of my list of rules. There’s a paper with the rules on it in every room, a big one by the front desk, and other ones plastered throughout the halls. Most people laugh after reading them, thinking it’s a joke. It’s not.

Not only are they there to ensure your safety and protection from the things in the Manor and other guests themselves during your stay at Harlow Manor, but they are also there for all guests to have a comfortable and pleasurable experience!

Please come visit the Manor soon, I can’t wait to see you!!