My name is Delapore I recently moved from the United States of America to restore the old family home Exton Priory which has lain deserted since my great grandfather abandoned it following the mysterious deaths of the rest of his family in the early 1890s. It was not until my own father's recent death that I discovered the existence of this building. As I was organising my father's many documents I found some which were of considerably greater age than any other, intrigued I examined them closely. One was simply the deed to Exton Priory. The others were apparently formed the last will and testament of my great grandfather Walter Delapore. From this I learnt little that was not already known however there were allusions to what he described as an unnatural horror which took his family and was seemingly the reason for his sudden move across the Atlantic.
After much study of these artefacts of my family's history I felt an almost overwhelming desire to return to Exton and see it with my own eyes. The following weeks and months are a blur of excited activity as I made preparations to return to the old country. As the summer came to an end and a cold autumn began I found myself looking up at the partial ruins of Exton Priory and the vast granite cliff on which it was perilously perched. The next few days were a dreary combination of bureaucracy and frustration but I was eventually confirmed as the owner of that picturesque old house and even managed to get permission for the restoration to begin as soon as possible.
Once the work was under way I began to investigate my family history and was pleased to discover a neighbour by the name of Edward Norrys had a near complete history of Exton going back as far as the late 12th century. My family was first recorded in 1261 when the first Baron Exton Gilbert De La Poer was granted the priory and it's estate by Henry III, they had no dark reputation at that time but within a mere half century there were various dark hints of forbidden masses and pagan orgies in the town records. This dark history appealed to the romantic within me so I resolved to discover more. Accordingly I began to ask the inhabitants of the village of Exton but was surprised to get little more than vague threats and muttering. Asking Edward Norrys about this he was at first surprised but also remembered that the name De La Poer is still the subject of local ghost stories and folklore. I resolved to rebuild my family's noble name so to that effect I started using the older spelling and redoubled my efforts to restore Exton Priory.
A few short months later one whole wing of the vast house was in sufficient condition for me to move in. Compared to the rotten shell of a building I had found this wing looked very much like it must have done in it's later days. The walls covered with dark wood panelling and the floors with deep luxurious carpet. The first of many curious incidents which would eventually lead to my current situation happened within days of my moving in. I was woken in the middle of the night by a weight on my chest, I turned on a bedside lamp and was most alarmed to find a large a rather ugly looking old ginger cat sleeping on me. The following morning I asked around the village and contacted the local animal shelter to find the owner but had no luck. After several days I found myself enjoying the company of my erstwhile feline companion and decided to keep let him stay.
The next incident occurred a month or so later, I was woken by the stirring of my cat who had leapt from the bed and was pacing around the room as if listening for something. I gave it little thought and went back to sleep. The next night it happened again this time however I thought I heard the sound of a child crying fading away. Perplexed by these events I spoke with my now dear friend Edward and my story seemed to move him, perhaps he thought the ghosts of my ancestors where still there and my presence had woken them. We resolved to mount a vigil to see if these strange events happened again. To that end the following night we sat in my bedroom in the dark with my feline companion in the room with us. As the clock passed midnight the cat began to get restless and started to listen intently. Eventually I too began to hear what had disturbed him, the unmistakable sound of a child crying all too soon it began to fade away again. On reflection it seemed as though the sound was coming from with in the earth itself. I asked Edward if he had heard the crying too but he confessed he had not however the actions of the cat told him that something wasn't right.
The next few nights nothing seemed to happen so we stopped our vigil and life returned to normal although I did shortly begin to have a series of recurring dreams in which I saw a beautiful woman walking through a twilight grove. This however I did not take to be anything unusual as I have often dreamt similar dreams since the onset of puberty. After a few nights of dreaming the same dream the nocturnal crying started again this time much louder, I began to believe that the sound was coming from the still unexplored cellar beneath house. Again I went to Edward for advice and he suggested that we explore the cellar reasoning that the cause might after all be earthly in origin, perhaps to local vagrant and child were living there. Wasting little time we gathered a few basic tools and a couple of torches and took our first steps along a path which was to lead us to untold wonders.
Our first search found little of note, the cellar was mostly empty. A few crates and barrels dating back to the years before Exton Priory's abandonment by my great grandfather and over a century of dust and grime. Disheartened we began to return to the house when a ginger streak ran between our legs. Curious as to why the cat would behave in this manner we gave chase and found him pacing around a small wall sconce in a far corner of the cellar as he paced a I began to hear the crying again louder than ever. It was clearly coming from from that sconce. Edward and I at once began to investigate it what we hoped to find I do not know but what we eventually discovered was a small crack through which there was a cool breeze blowing. We also found many ritualistic carvings in the old plaster, could these have been related to the whispers of evil doings at the Priory? Excited by our discovery we fetched a couple of workmen to assist in breaking through to the room or passage way which must have lain behind that sconce.
As the workmen started to hammer at the wall around the crack the entire sconce suddenly creaked backwards. It wasn't part of the wall at all but a craftily hidden doorway. The strength of all four of use was required to fully open it. Once the door was open a long dark passage way was revealed again the crying began and as if summoned by the sound my dear cat rushed down the passage. As we prepared to follow a loud rush of air rushed up the passage carrying on it a most unusual smell which I last encountered in the nursery of my childhood. One of the workmen guessed that the passage must lead to so hidden cutting in the cliff below the Priory which would have accounted for the rush of wind but even he could not explain the smell.
Without wasting any more time we picked up our tools and entered the passage myself and Edward leading the way and the workmen behind, after a few minutes of walking though the dark we began to perceive that the way ahead was getting lighter until eventually we found ourselves in a great cavernous grove. The sight which filled our eyes one which none of us could have expected. Within this huge natural cavern there were several buildings in many different architectural styles from a simplistic prehistoric round house to a Victorian farm house. We had just made the biggest archaeological discovery of our times. The whole of English history laid out in one location, excitedly we began to explore the buildings. Most were empty having apparently fallen out of usefulness but we did note that all were filled with that same nursery smell but with no obvious source.
At this point the workmen offered to find the source of the light and if possible work out where along the cliff this cavern was. As they left Edward and I entered the newest building, the Victorian farmhouse. For reasons unknown at the time I began to feel nervous and all to quickly my nerves were proven to not be in vain. Inside we found the first evidence of anyone actually living down here in the form of two skeletons still clad in the clothes they were wearing when they died. One wore what I assume was a normal form of clothing for a woman in the Victorian era the other was puzzlingly wearing what appeared to be clothes more suited to an infant although they were clearly an adult in size. What really attracted our attention though was the presence of a knife in the back of each of the skeletons. Was this the reason my great grandfather fled? Was he little more than a murderer on the run from the law?
As I reeled from this revelation the crying started again, it was louder than ever and the source was obviously this house. I had to get out before I was deafened even Edward was affected this time and we staggered out our hand on our ears. Overcome with all that had happened I lost consciousness. When I came to I was fortunate not to lapse into blackness again for I found a simply astonishing physical transformation had occurred. I was a woman, a swift check of my body confirmed it. What was happening to me? As I looked around I saw another equally confused woman sitting near me I could only assume that she was my friend Edward. It was only after the extreme shock of finding that we had changed genders had passed that we noticed the changes to our clothing, gone were our male clothes and in their place were matching dresses in a style which could at best be described as infantile plus underneath them we felt what could only be the soft padding of diapers.
We were interrupted from our confusion by an unmistakably female shout and turned to see a pair of very beautiful women running towards us. As they approached I felt my mind start to lapse and my thoughts become slower and childish. One of the women came to me and asked in a concerned voice how her little girl was, I must have replied in a negative way as she began to hold me and tell me that everything would be okay now that Mommy was here. Despite everything I honestly believed her. As she held me I felt myself relax in her arms and warmth spread around my diaper realising I had ashamed myself in such a profound way I simply started to cry. As I cried she began to hold me tighter and comfort me. She must have understood the cause of my distress as within moments I was on my back being changed. Feeling strangely calm after this bizarre turn of events I clung to her as she helped me sit up. The next surprise was when she bared her large breasts and began to nurse me, initially I tried to resist but quickly found myself suckling happily in her arms. As I drank her milk I felt all will to resist leave me to be replaced by a simple feeling of contentedness.
My life is now a blur of feedings and diaper changes, my Mommy seems to look after all my needs. I don't do much thinking any more when she is close but find that as she leaves my old mind begins to reassert itself. Strangely I am content with what my life has become even when my mind is clear. I am writing this account so that anyone who finds it may know who we are and what is happening to us, or rather I hope I am writing an account my babyish state never truly leaves and I am never entirely sure of what I am actually doing. All I really know these days is that I am a happy baby girl called Bethany and my friend now called Larissa is in a similar state. Even my dear cat was affected he is now a young playful kitten rather than the old cat I first met. The woman from my dreams is my Mommy, I can see her coming back to the house now and already feel my mind slipping away to be replaced with a babyish bliss thanks to those babies in the walls. I must finish this take quickly or I will I suspect not fin.... Mes calld Befany an mes wuvs mommy she wooks aftr mes. We has a kitten calld Mistr Cuddles an me has a fwend calld Lawissa de end.
