Welcome home
written by -Poisonous Candy-
Just a week ago, Diane had moved in with her father, and step mother and new sibling. It was hard to deal with, she had always heard stories that step-mothers were evil, but Penelope was…kind. She never berated her, never made her feel unloved, quite the opposite. She showered her with love and compliments, and treated her like she was her own daughter. Diane thought, maybe if she was mean, it’d be easier to deal with, but, she wouldn’t know. They had moved into an old, scary house. She wasn’t sure how else to describe it besides that. It was Victorian, maybe, gothic for sure, it was large and black, with huge, imposing windows, and sharp edges, with a huge black gate surrounding the property. For a while, Diane has just been hiding in her room, playing video games mostly, but while her parents were outside, tending the garden, and baby Hugh was sleeping, Diane decided to explore.
She made her way downstairs, looking around at the old, musty antique furniture; it smelled like an old woman had lived in her, like potpourri and medicine. It was slightly sickening, but Diane knew better then to speak ill of the dead. She made her way into the dining room; there was a beautiful cabinet with glass doors, with beautiful tea sets in it. Above the table hung a chandelier, covered with webs and dust; Penelope and her father hadn’t gotten around to cleaning everything, but the dining room was next, because Penelope was a firm believer in family dinners around a table. Diane finally made her way into the kitchen; it was cozy, and pretty, very…Victorian. The sink was HUGE, with big cabinets underneath, but the thing that caught her eye, was a large, imposing door, darkly lacquered, with a bright, silver handle. She began over to it, putting her hand on the handle, before the doors underneath the sink flew open, causing Diane to jump back, and meet eyes with…a ghost.
Diane had been staring for about a minute, before the ghost boy finally spoke up “I…Is there something on my face? Why are you staring…” He said, adjusting his cap. Diane cleared her throat and shook her head “N…No…you just startled me…” She mumbled. The boy shifted sniffled “I’m sorry…I just…I wanted to tell you…don’t go down there…’It’ lives down there…’It’ is scary…” he said, sniffling again. Diane raised her eyebrows “‘It’? What is…’It’?” She asked, going over. “And what’s your name?” Diane asked, sitting close to him. The boy whimpered “I don’t…know…No one does…A…And I’m Corgi…” He concluded. Just as he did her father called into the house, and Corgi’s eyes grew wide “Don’t let anyone hurt me…” He said, and shut the doors quickly. Diane coughed and stood “C…Coming Dad…!”
Diane knew, Corgi wasn’t the only one here…It was going to be an interesting life now, at Addle Manor.
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Some are naughty, some nice
written by -Poisonous Candy-
Well, it was an interesting first month. They moved into a new house, Diane had a new baby brother and she found out, her home was haunted by ghosts. So, fun times. Luckily, she had made a new friend, a ghost boy named Corgi. She had learned that he had quite the sweet tooth, and that he knew a good deal about the house, which was very helpful. But recently, her parents (recently having gotten into calling Penelope ‘mom’), had been saying that every time they went out into the garden, they’d end up with weird marks, and windows would suddenly break. So that meant it was time to bust out a slice of cake and enlist Corgi’s help.
With a slice of cheesecake in one hand, Diane knock on the cabinet doors, before opening it, finding Corgi, still sitting there, playing with a piece of string, looking at Diane over his portly belly, smiling. “Diane…Ooo! Cake!” He reached for it, Diane handing it to him, laughing softly. “Corgi…is there a ghost who haunts outside? In the garden?” She asked, sitting down. Corgi nodded, enjoying the cake “A couple…what happened, I can tell you based off that.” He said. “My parents are being attacked, and windows are breaking. “ Diane said with a nod. Corgi nodded knowingly “That’d be the second gardener. We just call him the Earless man. He lost his ears as punishment for…something. I can’t remember.” He said, finishing the cake. “He really hates people in the garden, and doesn’t like any new masters. He’ll attack anyone who goes outside and disturbs his gardens.” Corgi said, nodding.
“Thank you Corgi. I owe you.” She said, smiling and closing the cabinets. She had to see this ghost for herself, see maybe if there was some way to reason with him. Her parents were busy reading, they couldn’t be disturbed then, so she was on her own. Through the large front doors, were beautiful gardens; expertly cut hedges, colorful flowers, and an ornate fountain. She wandered around, heading towards the back, seeing the tool shed and well, but what caught her attention, was the sound of the shattering window, she turned, seeing a large, imposing figure, with no ears, and holding a pitchfork.
“What are you doing in my gardens!? I’ll kill you!” He yelled and began chasing Diane. She screamed in fear and began running, screaming and crying, hurrying to the front porch, where her parents were already standing, throwing herself on the porch. Her father knelt down, holding her. “What happened?!” He asked, rubbing her head. “A…ah…Some…k...kid rode by and threw a rock at a window and began throwing them at me. It scared me bad…I’m sorry…” She said. Penelope nodded and helped her up “It’s okay…he’s gone now. You’re okay…Come on…Let’s go get some tea.” She said.
“A…Alright…Tea…” She agreed. It seemed the ghost of Addle manor, weren’t always nice, but, she had a long time to get to know them.
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Music
written by -Poisonous Candy-
Haunting music floated through the halls of Addle manor once again. Every night, Diane was woken by the resident ghost, Carmina’s ghostly playing always went on during the wee hours of the night, but her parents never seemed to hear it. Which meant it was up to Diane to go figure out if she was able to talk to her, and if there were more like Corgi, who were willing to talk, and help her. Corgi had told Diane about how Carmina was poisoned, and now how she just plays all the instruments in the house, sorrowfully he added.
Diane woke up around 3ish, the sound a piano playing delicately in the house was her only alarm clock. She slowly made her way through the house, flashlight in hand, thinking where there was piano. She remembered seeing one in the room next to the dining room. ‘Damn rich people’ she thought, separating the entertainer from the family who listened. Diane walked down the stairs, her stomach tightening more and more with each step she took. As she reached the player room, she saw Carmina sitting there, she was…stunning. Raven black hair, and large earrings, she hardly looked like a ghost to Diane. She continued moving, standing in the doorway.
“Carmina…? My name is Diane…I live here now…and…” She didn’t really know what to say. Carmina stopped, turning back, sighing painfully. “You…have a beautiful voice…I always wished I could have a voice like yours…” Her voice was gravely and cracked, and Diane felt a twinge of pity. “If I was still alive, I would have hated you for that…but, now that I’m dead…murdered…and stuck here, I see that my hatred causes my punishment of being stuck in Limbo.” She said, continuing to play. “Unlike Corgi though…I know nothing of the other ghosts here, and can’t tell you anything…I only am here to play.” She concluded.
Diane nodded “…Alright. You play beautifully…But…do you mind not messing with the electronics?” Diane asked. Carmina sighed “…Very well. But I will continue playing.” Diane smiled “Oh, please do. It’s lovely.” She said, beginning back to bed. Maybe not every ghost was helpful like Corgi, but at least they weren’t all evil. Hopefully her next encounter would turn out just as well.
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The Closet
written by -Poisonous Candy-
Sunday’s were not good days for Diane. She always slept in late, so she never got to go to church with her family. Instead though, she spent her Sundays exploring, and talking with Corgi. She had a plate of cookies between Corgi and herself, each taking one after the other, talking with each other. “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to get f….f…fat l...like me…Diane, if you eat too…too many cookies?” Corgi asked in between bites, crumbs all over his little pot belly. “Well…A little I suppose, but I try and stay active and run around and stuff…” She mumbled, looking at her belly, worried now.
Corgi squeaked “I…I didn’t m….mean you were…f…f…fat now! Y…You’re pretty looking…” He mumbled, shoving more cookies in his mouth. Diane giggled and smiled “Thank you Corgi…” She said, getting up. “I’m going to grab a sweater from the closet. It’s pretty chilly.” She said with a smile, getting up and wandering out to the entrance hall, as she came closer to the closet, she could hear screams, and crying, banging on the door, and grunting. She blinked and cocked her head to the side. “Hey Corgi…What’s up with this closet…?” She asked, but she couldn’t really hear him. But he heard her, and he had to stop her.
Diane put her hand on the handle and began to turn it, but then, Corgi ran out and grabbed her wrist. “NO! Don’t go in there Diane!” He yelled. Diane gasped and looked at him “C…Corgi? You left your hiding place?” She asked, pulling her hand away. “I…I had to…Don’t go in there…Something really bad will happen to you…a…and I don’t want you hurt…” He began to sniffle “Y…you’re my friend…” He said. Diane smiled “You’re my friend too…” She said and nodded “I won’t go in…Let’s go finish the cookies” She said, walking back, holding his hand.
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Corgi
written by sack of jew guts
Laughter, and a herd of shuffling feet;
In the shroud of the evening darkness,
They danced away the morning star.
Children swam through the sea of bodies,
Hysterical laughter mixing into the white noise.
"Almost! " one of them cried.
"So close, " agreed another.
Almost simultaneously,
The parade of hands slapped against the snack table.
A brown cap was enclosed in one,
A mischievous smile planted on thin lips.
"Where's Corgi? " came an inquiring chorus of voices;
Heads turned to see their answer.
Slightly out of breath, pink in the face,
Brows furrowed; flustered and concerned.
"That was not funny. "
The crowd splits, allowing entrance to the table;
The hat rediscovers its proper home,
Nested on the unorganized blonde locks,
And distress is melted into mild amusement.
A swell of giggling rises between the children,
And then a mad race for treats begins, without warning.
Chicken, turkey, ham; what a decision!
A little bit of everything was choice, no?
A drumstick looks good, glazed in honey;
Chew, chew, and swallow; don't bite the bone.
… Swallow. Help, I can't … !
"Corgi's turning blue!"
"Is he okay?"
"P - Poison?"
"He's choking!"
"Wh - What do we do, what do we do?"
"Help!"
Spinning room, blending colors;
Dizzy, unbalanced; a flood of bodies rushing in.
Am I … … Am I dying … ?
"Corgi! Corgi, just hold on … !"
A bright flash of white, it burns …
Eyes close; muffled wails and cries fade into silence.
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Hurry
written by Kiddlet
"Diane, do hurry !"
Diane, despite the begging of her stepmother -- just a hairs breadth away from being wailed in a holier-than-tho British accent -- had no intention of rushing to complete the latest task dumped on her. This was obvious from the way she refused to so much as walk quickly up the path towards the manor, and if that wasn't enough, her expression screamed her thoughts loudly enough to wake the dead -- not that anyone living really cared. How Diane felt about the situation was insignificant compared to the almighty Slowly Ticking Watch, which threatened them with the soul shattering concept of being late for once. Not that it mattered she had already spent three hours in her room, primping her clothes and brushing her hair and finding those damned heels -- nope, not even remotely, because the shade of her hair clips didn't match the shade of her dress, and just had to be changed before anyone could stomach the thought of being seen in public with her !
Defiant to the very end, the brunette scowled, and slammed the door as she finally made it inside the house, blocking out the sound of her step mothers lamenting. It also muffled her own scream as a vase flew off the shelf to her left, shattering against the floor, which was a nice side effect. Without thinking, Diane narrowed her eyes, raised one finger, and jabbed it in mid air as she snapped out a retort.
"I do not have time for this."
A few seconds passed, her still in the same pose, tense and waiting -- half in terror, half in fury -- for a reaction, especially once it sunk in what she had just done. At the very least, she expected a pinch in retaliation to her audacity, though it would have been more belivable if the response was her finding herself pushed down the stairs. When nothing happened -- not even a noise -- Diane frowned, wondered how to deal with this new development, and winced as the car horn blared outside and informed her she didn't have time to bother with petty concerns like ghosts. Rolling her eyes, deciding on frustration over all the other available emotions to choose from, the teenager began stomping towards her room. Passing the mirror she thought there was a movement, but she only saw it out of the corner of her eye, and when she turned to snap at the figure, there was nothing there.
She put it down to her imagination running wild. It was the only thing it could be, after all, when this was hardly his style of torment. The horn blared again, hurrying her along in case she had forgotten she was on a time limit. Growling under her breath at the unnecessary reminder, Diane stomped her way up the stairs. The manor was eerily silent, save for her muttered comments and general disruptive noises. Her door didn't even stick when she rammed it open, bouncing it off the dresser pressed against the wall from the force she used. Honestly, it would have been better if there had at least been a snigger from the shadows, because at least that would have given her somewhere to direct her frustration.
But there wasn't. Heaving another sigh, she thumped down onto her bed, and pulled the clips roughly from her hair. A couple of strands snapped off in her haste, but that wasn't all that important. No one was going to notice a few errant flyaways. Still not sure where to direct her anger, she just dragged her brush through her hair, punishing it for just daring to exist.
"Really, my dear." Diane's hand froze at the first syllable, her eyes slowly closing as she clamped down on the urge to throw the brush at the source of the voice. "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself."
Her skull agreed, secretly.
The second sentence, she realized, came from directly in front of her, and when her eyes snapped open she found herself staring into the very blue eyes of someone wearing a very smug grin. The fact said person was dead didn't do anything at all to reassure her she was in no danger, and the girl found herself jerking backwards and choking back a scream, belated though the reaction was. The first master just sort of smirked at her, taking a step backwards to offer a low bow -- one of either apology, or mocking sarcasm, it was hard to tell from his expression. Diane glared, sitting up and running the brush through her hair a few more times just to pretend she didn't care at all after all, all the while staring pointedly at the other side of the room.
It seemed safest not to deign him with a response.
"I must admit though, you look rather ... pleasant this evening."
Despite the fact the compliment sounded like he was saying something much more lewd, It probably wasn't the best move in the world to actually throw the brush at him -- especially not when it went sailing on through and hit the small vase on her dresser, which then crashed to the floor, and really, the only thing achieved was she now had a nice little puddle on the carpet. Diane groaned under her breath, scrunching her eyes shut and wondering if she could be any more stupid. The master, for his part, didn't seem too phased, so small favours. He just drifted after her as she stomped to the vanity, tipping the jar of hair clips out in front of the mirror and ignoring the way her shoe squelched into the wet patch. His hovering did nothing for her nerves, and when she finally plucked the right shade from the pile, his smug smirk was the only thing that greeted her in the mirror.
She choked back another scream, pretending not to notice the way he was watching her as she fixed her hair, squinting as if she could even see her reflection. Personally she felt she horrible, all done up in a pretty frock and assorted pieces, but her step mother didn't agree. Neither, it appeared, did the ghost. He seemed content to just sit and watch her primp, after all.
"Going somewhere important ?" the first master demanded, so suddenly that Diane was startled despite herself, and then tilted his head slightly like it would even be possible to ignore where his gaze dipped down to. Even if she had been capable the fact his smirk grew would have given it away, and when he reached out through the mirror like he was going to touch her hair -- which was definitely not what he was looking at -- her resolve shattered. The teenager let out a disgusted noise, back pedalling until her legs hit the dresser and then groping blindly for some sort of weapon to defend herself with. Shoving the first thing she managed to actually snag in the general direction of the ghosts face, she took the few seconds of silence to look at what it actually was.
She was holding a thin chain. Attached to the end was a small, silver cross. It didn't look at all familiar.
Very slowly, the master slipped out of the mirror, narrowing his eyes slightly. He was a ghost, the cross had no real effect on him, but the intent of the action was very clear. He crossed his arms as he hovered there, not saying a word, and it occured to Diane that insulting a ghost whose idea of fun was to leer at pretty young things and do everything he could to distress them wasn't the best plan she'd ever come up with.
His gaze dipped again, and she also became aware of the sensation of her skin crawling. It was a worse feeling than being woken up with a pinch.
The silence lengthened uncomfortably. Coughing under her breath, Diane spun and stormed to the closet, wishing that the weight of his gaze wasn't so damn heavy. He didn't say a word as she threw the closet door open, didn't make a disapproving noise as she pulled the jacket on, and didn't so much as change his expression as she zipped it up to her throat.
But when she turned around, and met his gaze defiantly, he very, very, very slowly smirked. It wasn't remotely reassuring. It also felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped down her shirt, and she gripped the collar of her jacket in one hand, as if that was going to help at all when he made his move.
Somewhere, far away in an entirely different universe, a car horn blared in a muffled sort of way. Diane jerked, startled out of the moment, and glared at the master. He wasn't dissuaded, but he did move aside and bow graciously as she stormed out. She felt him watching her as she stomped down the stairs as quickly as she could without losing the heavy footed thump-thump noise -- because, really, the most important thing here was making it clear how absolutely unimpressed she was by his antics. How unimpressed and definitely not creeped out.
He didn't follow her, though, so maybe he was going to let her win this one, transparent denials aside. No chairs moved as she stormed past, no vases flew off shelves, and no lights exploded when she flipped them off. All in all, the master was very well behaved. As she reached the door Diane glanced behind her, suspicious, and saw nothing. She relaxed slightly.
"Hurry back, my dear," came the voice in her ear, its amusement badly disgused by a purr and accompanied by a sharp pinch on her a**. She screamed.
Her step mother was rather surprised by how fast Diane managed to reach the car but she probably just saw her reflection in the mirror again -- easily spooked, that girl was.
"We're still going to be late," her step mother noted instead, pursing her lips in absent minded disapproval, and for once, Diane didn't care she wasn't paying attention. Not when she could still feel the ghostly fingers against her skin.
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Dust
written by BadassUke
There’s a legend surrounding Addle Manor, quite a few actually. The last of many began with an innocent flower placed in a young maiden’s hair and ended with a murder. It was in early spring day, the air was warm and a soft breeze carried the flowers perfume through the air. A young girl, short and slender stood at an old door, after passing through enormous rusting iron gates; they easily stood at a few meters high. She studied the Manor; it loomed over the acres of green plains, so large and old, the mansion imposed its age and size on all who saw it. The girl’s father, Stephen he was called, followed her gaze. “Bloody big isn’t it?” he said. “This is surprising, there’s still flowers here” He picked one of the purple daisies and placed it in the young girls red-brown hair. She ignored it and walked back to the car, silver Mazda, to grab her suitcases filled with memories. Returning to the house her father smiled with the large key in the lock “Here goes nothing” he swung the door open and they gagged profusely.
So dilapidated was the manor that it the stale air chocked the pair, nothing had been past these doors in decades. Brushing light tears from their eyes, Stephen walked in, followed by the bemused young girl. “Look at this place, Diane, unbelievable right?” Stephen said through coughs.
“Yeah, pretty weird” Diane replied, looking the area over. Wallpaper, even decorative planks of wood had curled and fallen off or hung neglected over the brittle floorboards. The floorboards she thought, looking at her feet, they seem like they could give way in an instant, but to what worried her, through slivers she saw darkness, unyielding. This place was incredibly eerie. “Well kiddo looks like we got some work to do” Stephen laughed, he swung two heavy suitcases onto a couch. Even the couch looked unwelcoming, worn and colour faded with only a few parts of the pattern visible. This large couch sat in the middle of the vast room, there was almost an echo and it was only the entrance, small wooden tables sat between each couch. Coat stands and candle holders littered the floors. Behind the entrance area was an enormous staircase, made of a smooth stone and curved to branch off into a hallway leading left, right and forward.
“That’s pretty extravagant” Diane said looking wondrously at the staircase. “What do you think it’s made out of?” She walked up to it and tried to touch the stone but it was coated in decade’s worth of dust and spiders. “Watch out up there, you might slip on something, or fall through it.” Stephen shouted as she carefully climbed the stairs, keeping her suitcase close. She reached the stairs and smiled “See it wasn’t dangerous” Diane laughed. Even at the top of the stairs the ceiling reached far above, at least five meters above a three meter staircase. “Where’s my room?” she called to her father.
“No idea, pick one close to the main door for now” He shouted from a room branching off the entrance. Diane sighed; I’m going to get lost here. Shuffling down to the right of the hall, Diane squinted, little light came through the windows, even though they reached from the floor to the ceilings, she threw the purple curtains open and found the windows almost black with dust. She hoped that the rooms weren’t too deteriorated and opened the first room she saw. It was enormous, fitting the rest of the mansion. The room was Gothic in nature, all the furniture was elaborately decorated and had a darkish hue. A four-corner bed sat against the wall, a tall drawer set opposite was a rather large cupboard and a vanity table across from her bed. Her eyes wandered to it, she saw a flicker in the corner of the mirror and looked behind her, panicked.
Nothing.
Finally a desk sat in the centre of the enormous room; she slowly walked up to it. A leather bound book rested in the middle of it, with a bottle of ink and quill imbedded in the left corner. It was a pale wooden desk engraved with roses and flowers around the edges. It belonged to a girl. There was a series of draws, all locked individual and carved with a rose.
What drew her attention were the small amount of dust, barely any and the window that over looked the grounds to the east. Diane walked up to it, tossing her suitcase on the bed, she ignored all the possible dangers the room could have encapsulated. She touched its clear glass and looked at her fingers, they were clean, no dusty or dirt had been on the window. Mystified she looked at the window, from the ceiling to the floor it stood just like the others; purple curtains had been drawn as well. However they too had little dust and hadn’t rotten the slightest. Must have been put up by the last owners still that was years ago. She pondered the dilemma for a while, staring out the window, watching the morning turn to late afternoon.
“Hey Dee Dee?” her father affectionately nicknamed her. “Where are ya?”
“In here, dad” She called moving to the door but her found it hard to drag her eyes away from that haunting view. Stephen opened the door “You’ve been up here all the time? Your step mums got dinner ready, come on down” he said holding the door open “Nice room you picked” he added. “I know right, it’s really beautiful. I feel so drawn to it”
“Don’t get all poetic on me now” he laughed. “Come on down”. Diane followed her father down stairs, she followed close to her father as he warned her once again “Be careful the floorboards are rotten through here, we are getting a man in tomorrow who’ll marble it down and fill the basement with concrete hopefully, it’s bloody creepy down there and we only turned on the lights to the stairs. It took us ages to find a man who would be willing to come up here; we had to pay him a few hundred dollars extra. We moved the furniture against the wall in case the place caved in, we put little candle path through the place for bits we think are safe to walk on.”
“Yeah I noticed, isn’t this place creepy? Shouldn’t we stay in a hotel tonight?”
“We’ll be fine, you decided to sleep right across from you for tonight is that helps. Here we are the dining hall” The scene was akin to something pulled from Dracula, chandeliers hung from the ceiling; however no light came from them as electricity wasn’t lined through the mansion yet. Instead another piece of the ancient house was use, the candle stick holders made of pure gold, why no one had robbed the place was beyond them.
Perhaps someone had tried and failed in the process?
A dozen candle holders were lined straight through the centre of the table. The was amazingly carved, with stories being played on the legs and sides while on top a fresh bed sheet covered one fourth of the table. Diane smiled as she looked at the food, take-away from a fast food joint. Pretty ironic that in this old creaking mansion and in this elaborate dining hall we’re eating fast food from a modern store.
In this place it’s like time doesn’t reach here, as if the place itself were a force all its own. Diane thought as she laid down on the king sized wooden bed. She stared at the flames from the candles beside her bed, they licked the cold air. It was freezing in the mansion, they needed wood from the forest to fan the fires in each room in order to keep them warm but they wouldn’t do that for weeks. The main priority was to renovate the mansion, rip up the floors and tumble the walls. This thought unsettled Diane we should just cover everything over, not to topple the structure, who knows what the walls hide. She stared at the flames until her eyes grew unbearably heavy and she fell asleep.
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Rock hard problem
written by Aggy the Awesome
Diane sighed.
She could have sworn she had set all five rocks on her bedside table. She even remembered counting them a few times to be sure they were all there, yet she was still missing one. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Diane stared at the cluster of strange looking rocks, all neatly clumped together in a group. Maybe if she looked at them long enough, the fifth one would just appear again as if by magic. Unfortunately, she didn't have that kind of luck. No, the longer she sat there, the more time she wasted.
It wasn't like the rock had any value, nor did it hold any huge significance in her life. She just liked to collect interesting rocks, and it was frustrating that she couldn't find one of them. The one missing in action was a purple crystalline stone shaped like a heart that was cracked down the middle. It was one of her favorites since it reminded her of the Purple Heart Medal given to soldiers who were wounded in battle. The crack in the center only seemed to strengthen that fact.
"It was right here. Rocks don't just get up and walk off," Diane said to herself, sighing immediately afterward.
It wasn't doing her much good sitting around and thinking about it, so she decided that it was best to actually get up and look around the rest of the house for it. Maybe she was mistaken and she had dropped it somewhere on the way up to her room. Maybe she had dreamed the whole thing and it actually didn't exist. Whatever the case was, she was at least going to put forth some effort to looking for it despite the fact that Addle Manor was huge and the rock could be anywhere. If she wasn't so persistent, she probably would have just let it be and hope that it would turn up at some point. But Diane wasn't going to let it go that easily; she was stubborn. She would find that rock or die looking for it.
Okay, so maybe not so much with the dying part, but she was at least going to look for it.
Standing up from her bed, Diane stretched as she walked out of her room and started down the hallway. The Manor was quiet since half of the household had already turned in for bed. Diane herself had been ready to call it a night, but discovering she was short a rock made her curious as to where it could have gone. She had already searched her room, especially around the table and under her bed where she thought it might have dropped, but there was still no evidence of it.
It was going to be a long night.
Diane decided to start at the kitchen and work her way from there, remembering that she had set the rocks on the counter and gotten a cup of water. She was confident enough that she had left it there that she all but skipped down the stairs. Her red curls bounced along with her blue and white striped skirt, and her steps were muted on the hardwood floor by her knee-high black socks. That didn't stop the stairs from creaking when her weight sank into each one. She was, by no means, a heavy girl. In fact, she was only a mere one hundred and five pounds. However, the Manor was so old and antiquated that creaks and moans were inevitable. Those were the least of her problems, though.
Diane knew very well of the spooks that roamed the Manor; she had even encountered several of them on a few separate occasions – experiences that she would rather not repeat. From what Corgi had told her, not all of the ghosts in the house were as kind as him, and some were violent enough to hurt or kill the living. Diane wasn't too keen on wanting to meet them.
Reaching through the kitchen door, Diane switched on the light before poking her head inside to make sure there wasn't anything pale or see-through inside. As far as she could tell, she was alone, so the search for the missing rock continued. She stepped up to the countertop and looked around, immediately realizing that it was clear. Sighing, she crouched down to look around on the floor, again coming up empty. Now she was almost positive it had disappeared into thin air.
"What'cha lookin' for?" The voice came out of nowhere in the silent house and Diane jumped up, shrieking, before losing her balance and falling onto the tile floor with a loud thump. "Oh! I'm sorry!"
"Corgi!" Diane growled as soon as she realized who it was. She glared up at the young ghost boy as she reached up and grasped the edge of the counter to pull herself up. "Don't scare me like that!" Her voice was a loud whisper, not wanting to wake anyone else up in the house, both living and dead.
The boy stared up at her with an apologetic expression. It was obvious that he felt bad for sneaking up on her, but it wasn't like he could help it. He was a ghost, so he was naturally quiet. He didn't have solid feet to make noises with each footstep and he didn't need oxygen so no one could hear him breathe. How else would he have gotten her attention if not by speaking directly to her?
"Please don't be mad, Diane. I'm really sorry . . ."
"I'm not mad," Diane said, though her voice certainly made her sound like she was. "You just surprised me, is all. I'm still not used to the whole ghost thing yet, so give me a break." She dusted herself off when she stood up, straightening up her light brown blouse and white shirt underneath. After a moment, she finally turned her attention back to the boy.
She still couldn't get used to the fact that he wasn't actually alive. He could fool some people; from far away, one might think he was just some normal little kid wandering around an old mansion. But a closer look would confirm that he was transparent. She could at least be thankful that he wasn't a zombie with missing limbs or a jaw dangling from rotting bones. She saw enough of that in her video games to make her never want to see it in real life. Zombie pixels were just fine.
"What do you want, anyway?" Diane said after a moment.
"I was wondering what you were looking for. Did you lose something?" Corgi asked, his voice full of innocence. Diane could tell he still felt guilty about scaring her. She eased her tone a bit.
"I didn't lose it, I just can't find it," she said with a smirk. "I brought in a few rocks I found today and now I'm missing one. I could've sworn I set it on my table but it's not there now."
"Have you checked the commode by the stairs?"
Diane wasn't even going to pretend to know what he meant by that. "What?"
"The Old Maid likes to leave things there if they are in the way. You might wanna look there."
Corgi was always a great help. He was the first ghost she had met in Addle Manor and, by far, the nicest talking dead person she had ever known. Then again, she really didn't know a lot of dead people that walked among the living, so that wasn't saying much.
"Huh. Just a side note, how many of you ghosts are there in this place?" Diane had already encountered a few while she was there, including a pair of best friends named Hobbes and Jackson. They had shown up at the party Diane's father and stepmother had thrown in the house once they were all moved in. Diane had kept wondering who they were and what side of the family they were on; they hadn't been anyone she had known.
"Just thirteen," Corgi replied as if it was a normal thing.
"Just thirteen?! Holy crap on a cracker," Diane said, completely shocked by the news. She was going to have to deal with thirteen of these things? It was enough difficulty adjusting to knowing one on a personal level. "...Okay then. I'll check upstairs. Thanks for the help again, Corgi."
"Anytime, Diane. Stay safe."
She watched as the little chubby boy disappeared underneath the sink where he came from and then the kitchen became quiet again. Diane was left wondering what he meant by the last thing he said. Stay safe? What would the other ghosts do if she encountered them? She shuddered at the thought.
Deciding to push the thoughts to the back of her mind and save them for later, Diane turned and left the kitchen after switching off the light. It wasn't a moment later when she stopped in her tracks as she peered up the staircase.
The first thing she noticed was the small candlelit flame that seemed to float in midair as it moved down the stairs. However, once Diane squinted her eyes, she noticed a faint figure with an arm out holding the candle in hand. It was a woman wearing a long, black gown covered by an apron. Diane didn't want to believe it was another ghost just yet, so she tried speaking to it first.
"Penelope?" She asked, hoping it was her stepmom going through some strange fashion phase. The figure didn't answer. Instead it continued down the stairs as if it didn't hear her. Diane gulped inaudibly.
Slowly, she crept toward the stairs, trying to be quiet as she moved closer to the bottom. The figure didn't move for the longest time, the candle just hovering in the air and giving off very little light. Diane had to wonder if the ghost even saw her or if it was just toying with her and trying to scare her. If it was, the ghost was succeeding.
Diane reached the bottom of the stairs, keeping close to the side with the wall and backing up against it. Her eyes never left the figure of the ghost as she started up the first step, watching it closely to see what it would do. Seeing it up close made her realize it was an older woman and she had to wonder if this was the "Old Maid" that Corgi had told her about. If so, she was tempted to ask if the woman had seen her rock or moved it. However, Diane really didn't feel like drawing that much attention to herself, so she kept her mouth shut and continued up the stairs.
Reaching the top, she immediately rushed to the commode and found exactly what she was looking for. There it was; the rock that had been causing her so much grief for the past fifteen minutes. She quickly snatched it up and closed her fist around it as if to keep it protected from all thirteen ghosts in the house.
That's when she heard it.
The sound of footsteps slowly making their way up the stairs had her jumping slightly and glancing down the way she came. The old woman was on her way back up, an empty expression painted across her face that sent chills up Diane's spine. Her first thought was that the woman was angry or upset that Diane was retaking her rock, and she didn't want to stand around to see what the ghost would do to her if she made it to the top of the stairs.
No, instead, Diane turned and raced down the hall as fast as she could. She didn't dare to look back or even scream out to her father or Penelope or even her half-brother, Hugh. She just wanted to get back to the safety of her room and hide under her sheets which always seemed to be the best shield against monsters in the closet or things that went bump in the night.
Her door was still open when she reached it, but she shoved it open even further as she entered her room, slamming it shut behind her and running to her bed. One big leap and she was there, bouncing in the center as she grabbed the sheets and pulled them over her entire body. Only her eyes poked out from behind the sheets and they looked toward her room door to see if the ghost was going to come through it after her. She could have waited minutes, maybe even hours, but the Old Maid never entered the room.
Diane took in a deep breath and then let it out as a relieved sigh. She was safe, at least for the moment, and she had found her rock. Mission accomplished. Now it could return to its rightful place with its brothers and sisters.
Diane finally stuck her arm out from under her covers to place it on her bedside table, but stopped when she noticed something. Her little cluster of rocks now only consisted of three instead of four.
"Nonononono, are you kidding me?!"
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The First Master
written by xisney
Diane heard the sound of the heavy rain pounding against the darkened windows. She leaned on the kitchen counter, balancing the phone between her shoulder and ear. "Yeah dad," she replied. "I'll be fine. Stay safe in town, it looks pretty nasty outside."
She nodded as her father gave her various concerned comments about spending the night alone in their big house. She made "uh huh" noises to confirm she listened, but her mind already fantasized about what she'd do with her time alone.
Diane cut off her father to ask, "What's your hotel room like? Did you get room service?"
As Diane chatted with her father, Corgi floated through the kitchen sink. His brown eyes offered Diane a concerned look as he adjusted his sixpence cap. Diane said into the phone, "Hey dad, I'll let you go."
He offered a good night and she replied, "You too, bye."
She hung up the phone and folded her arms across her chest as she stared at Corgi. "What can I do for you?" she asked.
The spirit only startled her when the first met, but once they two started talking, she relaxed and let her curiosity take over. She found Corgi to be harmless and concerned, and he knew most of the other spirits lingering around the house.
Corgi shifted his weight despite being weightless as he said, "You're home alone."
She heard the windows creaking alongside the pounding of the rain. She wondered if the wind picked up. "And I would prefer to be left alone," Diane replied, walking away.
Corgi followed eagerly, pressing his hands against his stomach self-consciously. "Perhaps," he said. "Perhaps you could sneak me some sweeties. No one would be around to catch you."
Diane walked into the living room, the creaking of the windows following her as she moved. Corgi hunched over nervously as Diane said, "Why would I give you sweets?"
"Information," Corgi replied, his eyes squinting at the windows. "It's raining, and you're alone in this creepy house with only spirits for company."
Diane eyed the portrait over the fireplace, folding her arms across her chest impatiently. The portrait seemed to be in the middle of brushing her hair, a brown comb twisted into her thick red curls, her thin, pale fingers following it. Diane liked the portrait's dull beige dress. It struck her as something she herself would wear too.
Corgi chirped, "I can tell you about her."
"I don't care that much," Diane replied, unfolding her arms. She squinted, noticing a mark on her arm. A bruise sat on her inside forearm, glaring up at her in fierce purple. Diane tried to recall what she hit her arm on. She stated, dreamily, "That's odd."
She felt a chill as Corgi touched her arm, examining it closely. His perpetual look of worry grew larger, his eyes turning watery and his frown stretching from cheek to cheek. "I can explain that," he said, hurriedly. "For sweets. You really want me to explain that."
Diane pulled her arm away from Corgi, trying to brush off the chills he sent through her body. "You probably just saw me run into a table or something," Diane replied. "I'm not giving you any sweets."
"It's a spirit."
Diane's grey eyes widened. She jabbed Corgi in the chest as she said, "You're not just saying that to get at my candy?"
The windows rattled again, but Diane kept her eyes firmly on Corgi. Corgi's eyes stared at the windows as he replied, "Nope, it's a spirit. Honest."
"All right then," Diane said, and as she marched back into the kitchen she added, "but this better be good."
Corgi watched as Diane climbed onto the kitchen counter. He murmured, "Be careful!" as she stood up to grab the candies hidden on top of the cupboard.
Diane scoffed and admired the candies there, deciding which ones to grab Corgi. She picked out the individually wrapped candies she didn't like. The window above the sink rattled, and Diane could feel some cold air from outside press against the window. Corgi eyed the window again nervously, saying, "You should come down. It's not safe."
"Where is it safe in this house?" she sighed, climbing off the counter.
Corgi tried to pull her away from the window, saying, "Under the kitchen sink is safe."
"But you're under the kitchen sink," Diane replied. "Now tell me about this bruise, then I'll give you the candy."
The glass on the window cracked. Both Diane and Corgi looked, Corgi nervously shifted to behind Diane. The window smashed open with a loud crash. Wind howled through the window, the curtains flapping roughly as rain poured in. "Shoot," Diane said through her teeth. "What should I do about that?"
Corgi latched onto Diane's arm and said, "You shouldn't get too close. We should talk somewhere else. Somewhere safe."
"Like under the kitchen sink?" Diane asked. "What about the window?"
"What can you do about the window?" Corgi asked.
Diane sighed, tired of the little spirit's shattered nerves. She went back into the living room to search for a picture frame to stuff in front of the window. The windows in the living room began to rattle, the wind howling against the glass. Diane shivered as she looked back to the Portrait. Her hair suddenly looked styled, perched atop her head. Diane raised a brow, but her thoughts shifted away as she grabbed a large picture frame off the wall.
She took the time to pull out the pictures inside the frame and stacked them on the table. When Diane made her way back into the kitchen, Corgi stood against the wall, far away from the window. He quivered, his brown eyes watching and waiting. They locked onto Diane when she came back into the room. "What's that for?"
"To board up the window," Diane said. "I don't want to have to mop up the floor or something."
"Watch out for the glass," Corgi replied.
Corgi heard the crunch of the glass as Diane climbed back onto the counter. She rested the frame on the windowsill. She placed the sugar and powdered coffee jars on the wall with the frame, wedging it firmly against the window. The frame rapped between the sugar and coffee, but it didn't seem to threaten to blow back away from the windowsill.
She jumped down from the counter. "Looks good," she said. "I think I'm going to play some videogames in my room. Enjoy your sink."
"Wait," Corgi said. "I was going to tell you about your bruise in exchange for sweeties."
"Oh right," Diane replied. She checked her hands for the candy, but they weren't there. "I think I left them in the living room."
Corgi followed Diane back into the living room and Diane found the candy with the pictures. She gave them to Corgi and began to walk in the direction of her room. Corgi lurked at her heels saying, "What's your bruise look like now?"
Diane tried to suppress the chills through her body as she looked at the inside of her forearm. She noticed small cuts atop the bruise, as if someone clawed at her arm. Diane replied, "It's fine," even though Corgi ogled it from over her shoulder.
"The bruise," Corgi said, running his cold fingers over Diane's arm, "is a sign that the First Master is interested in you." Corgi popped a candy into his mouth. "He probably won't show his face, but just in case you should stay away from the master bedroom."
"Would he hurt me?" Diane asked. She hadn't felt any of the wounds on her arm, and even now her bruise only hurt when she touched it.
"He used to hurt the women he was involved with," Corgi said, "killed some of them even. The portrait – Anastasia – is one of his."
"One of his what?"
"Victims," Corgi replied.
As they walked through the hallways, Diane could hear the rain and wind causing the house to groan. A cool breeze ruffled her skirt and kept the goose bumps crawling along her legs. The cold was as if an entire side of the house was missing. "Well, I'll steer clear of it then," Diane said, stepping into her room. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some video games to beat."
Diane sat on her bed and hooked up her small television set so she could play her game. She sat on the bed and set the controller in her lap. She adjusted the headband in her auburn hair to make sure her hair didn't fall in her eyes as she played. She felt the cool presence beside her as Corgi sat down beside her, sucking on his candy.
Her cuts throbbed as she reached to turn the game on, but she smiled as her screen lit up with the bright, colourful game lights.
And then, in an instant, all the lights were gone.
Silence hung in the room as her brain tried to calculate her surroundings. Her entire body tensed, and she thought she could feel her skin being pinched. A sudden cold breeze blew through the room, and Diane thought if she could see she would see her breath curling from her mouth.
A light briefly illuminated the room from the window, and it was only when the light left that Diane realized it was lightening. A loud bang of thunder shook the house, and Diane gripped her bed sheets to keep herself steady. Another noise mixed in with the thunder, and only when the thunder faded did she discover she had yelped alongside it.
Why did the dark slow down her thoughts?
"It's okay, Corgi," Diane said, reaching for him in the darkness. "The power goes out sometimes in thunderstorms. We'll be fine."
She heard Corgi reply, "I'm okay."
Diane waited, expecting another silky voice to say "Me too," but she only heard the floorboards creak. "I think I have a flashlight around here somewhere," Diane said, leaning over to feel under her bed for it.
She felt Corgi's cool, slick arm. "Sorry," he mumbled.
He got up and stood beside her as she kneeled on the floor, feeling around for the flashlight. Lightening lit up the room again, and then another roll of thunder shook the windows. Corgi said, "The flashlight is on your dresser. I thought I saw it."
Diane felt her body stiffen as she stood up. She knew she was too tense. She felt around for the flashlight, hearing things topple onto the ground. But nothing sounded loud enough to be the flashlight, so Diane kept feeling around. She could hear the floor creaking again, and she worried about all the spirits walking around that she couldn't see.
She wished she brought the sweets upstairs to give to Corgi in case of an emergency. She thought of the cracked window downstairs, and she tried not to imagine herself shattering to pieces. Diane could feel her heart pounding in her head, her hand running along the smooth counter of the table and the oblong shapes on her dresser.
Why did she have so many things?
And then she felt it. The cylindrical flashlight. In a moment, her thumb slid across the button and a small, yellow circle dimly lit in the room. The light quivered like a candle. "The batteries aren't going to last," Diane said, her voice breaking in concern.
Corgi asked eagerly, "Is there another flashlight anywhere?" He stepped into the light, though Diane could see through him.
"There's more," Diane said. "But the only one I can think of is in my dad's room."
"The Master's Room," Corgi gasped. "Where are the others?"
"I know there are candles downstairs," Diane said. "B-but, I don't know if my battery will last that long."
The two stared at each other through the fading light.
"We'll be quick," Diane said. "Run in and run out."
"Okay," Corgi said, swallowing. "But be careful."
"Of course I will," Diane said, sharply. "I don't want my dad coming home to see a broken window and my dead body."
Diane and Corgi stepped into the hallway. They heard the floorboards around them creaking, as if someone walked away from them. Corgi clung to Diane, forcing more chills to ripple through her body. She tried to make their pace quick as they moved closer to the master bedroom. They stumbled over the carpet a few times as they walked.
The rain continued to pound on the windows around them. The thunder rolled in the distance, no longer causing the house to shake. Lightening often illuminated the hallway, and once it disappeared the flashlight only seemed darker and inefficient. She could see the doorway at the end of the hallway, the lightening only highlighting the doorframe, not the darkness within the room. She sighed, "Why is this house so big?"
Corgi only responded by quivering against Diane.
They both hesitated in the doorway.
Diane linked her arm with Corgi's and said, "Let's get in there."
Diane swallowed and pulled Corgi into the room with her. She shone the flashlight once around the room, trying to find the dresser. She spotted a section of Hugh's crib and the heavy sheets of the large bed. She heard a shuffling in the corner of the room, and she shone the light in that direction. The translucent Corgi opened the curtains in the room. "So that the lightening will help us see," he explained.
She nodded in response, offering a smile in the darkness. She spotted the dresser and walked towards it. She began opening the drawers on the dresser, and she spotted the large flashlight quite quickly. She reached for it, but she felt a sudden weight on her arm, as if someone tried pulling her arm away from it.
She felt a cool breath on her neck and wrenched her arm into the drawer. Her hands shook as she latched onto the flashlight, and she charged from the room before turning it on. Her old flashlight stayed in the room, flickering slightly as the batteries lost their charge.
Her heart pounded on her ears as she whispered, "Corgi?"
She thought she saw him by the window, but another shadow lingered in the room closer to her flashlight. She stared into the shadow, and she thought she could see two hands folded together.
Diane jumped as a hand tapped her shoulder, but it was only Corgi. She scowled at him, and said, "Don't do that," but when she turned back to the room the shadow was gone.
"Don't do what?" Corgi asked. "Why haven't you turned on the flashlight?"
"He's in there," Diane whispered.
The two stared into the room, the light growing dimmer and dimmer. Diane felt the pain in her arm throb and the muscles in her body tense as she stared into the darkness. The room seemed to suck the warmth from her body, but her legs wouldn't move.
"Let's go," Corgi whispered.
Diane stayed still. Just as the light appeared to be in its last moments, Diane thought she saw the folded hands again. She raised her eyes to see a bright, white smile gleaming at her. She stepped forward, the only sound was her heart pounding against her ears.
Lightening struck.
She only caught a glimpse of him. The dark hair. The bright blue eyes. It was as if she only saw pieces that she'd have to put together.
By the time the thunder shook the house, Diane's brain screamed for her to run and her legs already dragged her back down the hallway towards the stairs.
And then she turned on the flashlight.
The white light illuminated The Master in front of her. She screamed, her feet rooting in place. Her scream faded as she hugged her flashlight to her chest. The Master stared at her calmly, and he seemed to make no move to threaten or harm her. She eyed him up and down, wondering if perhaps Corgi was mistaken.
She glanced around for Corgi, but she caught no glimpse of him. However, she was certain that this was the man from the bedroom. The pieces she saw fit this ghost perfectly. "Are you finished?" he asked.
Diane nodded, staring until she could see through the spirit. The rain continued to prattle against the window, keeping her nerves on edge.
The spirit smiled and said, "Your scream is quite lovely." Diane smiled back, trying to find some words in her mouth. The Master continued, "Just like the rest of you."
She felt her cheeks burn. "Hardly," she scoffed.
"And who may I ask is gracing my home?"
Diane took a step back. Despite the Master's sleek appearance, somehow she felt like he wasn't as transparent as his form. "I'm Diane Gilligan," she said, carefully.
"And who are the ones gracing my chamber?"
"My dad, step-mom, and half-brother," she replied. "Hugh, my brother, stays with them because the house is so big. They want to make sure they hear him cry."
"Ah, which is why I've been hearing him cry."
"Sorry," Diane said.
"Oh, it is not a problem, Miss. Gilligan," the Master replied. "His scream is just as pleasant as yours. I merely feared everyone just wasn't having a pleasant a stay here. And how are you enjoying your stay here?"
Diane smiled again. She felt herself step closer to the spirit to feel his refreshingly cool presence in the humidity of the hallway. She wanted to be closer to him and gain more compliments, and yet part of her screamed at her to back up, part of her reminded her on the bruise on her forearm.
But the bruise didn't throb.
"It's been," Diane searched for the words. "It's been interesting."
"Well," the Master said, looming over Diane, "let me know if there's anything I can do to make your stay more pleasant. I'd hate for a pretty lady like yourself to be unhappy or uncomfortable in my home."
"No, I'm comfortable," Diane replied, twisting a piece of her hair between her fingers. "Some of the other spirits can be a handful, but overall it's quite pleasant."
"Oh, I'm truly sorry about that riffraff," the Master replied. "I will find a way to make it up to you, my dear."
She stared intently into his easy gaze and replied, "How?"
The Master opened his mouth to speak, but when the lights flickered back on, Diane tilted her head upwards to see the bright hallway light. When she went back to facing the Master, he was gone. Diane turned around, checking to see if he lurked behind her, but he seemed to have vanished completely.
Still glancing around, Diane flicked off the flashlight. She began to walk back to the kitchen to look for Corgi to discuss her new findings on the spirit. She hesitated, however, when the small cuts on her arm started to throb.
Diane started to walk faster.
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