Vic shivered on the drive home. The road was wet and black, snow fell slowly at first, but began to fall faster the closer she got to the house. Seeing was difficult since all the lights cast out shards that obscured anything beyond. She pulled up to the house and turned into the driveway. The house seemed larger tonight as if it had grown. Vic enjoyed the fall of snow as she walked from her car to the front door. She let herself in and went immediately to the dining room. It was empty. She took off her coat, set her purse down, and got to work.

  She pulled out several more samples of fabric and wallpaper to match those they’d already agreed on and then she took the printed photos of the furniture, paintings, and other things and made mock-ups of what the rooms would look like finished. She didn’t work that long and left her work on the table. She grabbed her coat and purse and turned out the light.

  On the way to the stairs, she tip-toed over to the library and peeked through the gap in the open door. Michael and Megan sat on the sofa, her head on his shoulder. She didn’t want to disturb them. They had a rough day today. The lights flickered but stayed on as she crossed the great hall to the grand stairs and made her way up them. On the landing at the top of the stairs, the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

  Vic looked around, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Her heart began to beat faster and she felt the urge to flee. What was going on? Was she having a heart attack? Then Kitty came hissing out of the darkness at her. She shrieked and jumped, but the cat wasn’t coming for her and it went down the stairs as if it was chasing a mouse. She breathed a sigh of relief. At first, she thought the cat was going to attack her, but it didn’t. She didn’t see a mouse, but there must have been one.

  She went to her room and changed into leggings and a sweatshirt. She started a fire in the fireplace and then sat there in a chair and read her book. After an hour she set her book down and grabbed Virginia’s diary that she had brought up with her. She opened it and began reading.

  May 11th, 1890

  I am to host our first ball. It shall be in ten days. Even though I have been in my new home less than 24 hours, I spent the morning writing out invitations to all our friends, and important people in our community. It is important to be gracious and welcoming. I do not wish to incur a reputation as a woman who is not freely given of her time, charity, or help. I plan to make my way down to the Detroit Free Press and speak to the columnist of the Society Notes to announce my ball. It will drum up interest and it will be the talk of the town. I then need to make arrangements with the florist, go over the menu with our cook, and see about decorating our grand ballroom. I am so excited. Wait until Edward hears the news.

  May 21st, 1890

  Last night the ball was marvelous. I wore a blue gown with lace and frills. Edward said I was the Belle of the Ball. He’s much too kind. My sister Adeline and her husband Horace were in attendance. Her dress was cream-colored silk with little flowers and lace on it. Mayor Pingree was here with his wife Frances. She wore a darling purple dress with ruffles and laces. We also had several doctors and their wives, a couple of lawyers, all of the aldermen, and many professional people. The columnist who writes the Society Notes for the paper came. Shortly people will be reading her column about our party. We will be the talk of the town for more than just this magnificent house. There were so many people here that I knew only a handful but it was fun to play hostess. I had the pleasure of introducing my good friend Katherine Bettincourt and her husband Thomas to my husband. Katherine and I were school girls together and we have kept in touch since. Her husband Thomas’ business is in trains. I’m sure Edward will love that.

  January 15th, 1891

  I birthed my beautiful daughter Charlotte Anne on January 12th at 5:10 pm. She is the most precious thing. It was not a hard labor. I was feeling a bit unwell and told Edward to fetch the doctor. The next thing I knew I was lying in bed with the doctor telling me to push and out came this most wonderful, pink baby girl. The doctor wrapped her in a cloth and gave her to me to hold. I almost cried I was so happy. The doctor then brought Edward in to see his daughter. He held her and then gave her back to me, kissed me on the forehead, and told me to get some rest. The doctor left me with the nursemaid while he went downstairs to his den to smoke celebratory cigars with the men.

  Sometime 1891

  We hosted our first seance with Madam Mystic Moon. Her real name is Ophelia Harper, but she goes by Madam Mystic Moon when she’s performing a seance. In attendance were Edward, Myself, The Shelleys, The Crowleys, and the Winchesters. I hosted a dinner beforehand. We started off with oysters Rockefeller and deviled eggs for the appetizer, Then we moved on to Lobster Bisque. Our chef Harold makes a wonderful lobster bisque, He studied in France. The main course consisted of roasted quail, mashed potatoes roasted with rosemary, salmon en croute, and garlic green beans. For the salad course, we served a delicious Caesar salad. Throughout the meal, champagne and wine were served. Then we moved on to the dessert course which consisted of baked Alaska, chocolate mousse, and macarons. Afterward, we had coffee and tea.

  Once the dinner was over we moved to the parlor which had been set up for a seance. All the lights were out, but we kept candles lit. We sat in a circle around the table. Madam Mystic Moon asked us if there was anybody we wanted to contact. I urged Edward to try and contact his deceased son, but he didn’t want to hear of it. He suggested the Crowleys try to contact someone. Agatha Crowley wanted to speak with her mother so we started with her.

  Madam Mystic Moon told us to take each other's hands and close our eyes. She wanted us to heighten our senses. She told us to not talk. She made a lot of weird noises that she said helped to clear herself out and open up to the supernatural forces. It sounded ridiculous, but worked. She contacted Agatha’s mother, and she spoke right through Madam Mystic Moon. She told Agatha where her missing wedding ring was. It had fallen off her finger and into the mud on a rainy day. Their butler found it and put it in his office because he didn’t know who it belonged to. I can tell you that Agatha was very happy. She asked her mother how she was doing and that she missed her terribly. Her dead mother told her to follow the breeze to the ancient oak and look in the pool of hope for there her dreams will be realized. Then her dead mother was gone and Madam Mystic Moon was back. She looked spent. Apparently, it takes a lot of energy to contact the dead. She packed up and headed out after we thanked her. We had the lights turned on and had a nightcap while we talked about what happened. This is so exciting. We have already booked her again for next month. Maybe I can get Edward to allow her to contact his son. He might feel better if he can talk to him again.

  She heard a light rapping at her door. Closing the diary she got up and opened the door a crack. It was Michael. He brought some wine, two glasses, and some books on hauntings. She let him in. After he entered she closed the door.

  “I didn’t expect to see you.” She gestured for him to have a seat by the fire. She reclaimed the seat she had previously sat in.

  “Megan just went off to bed and I couldn’t wait to talk about everything. We have to be very careful. She’s not doing well mentally right now. Not after this afternoon.” He uncorked the wine and poured it into the glasses. He handed one to her and took a big swig from his. “We can’t talk about anything remotely supernatural during the day. That’s why I came to your room. She won’t accidentally walk in and overhear something she doesn’t want to hear.”

  “Okay, but your wife all but accused me of having an affair with you this afternoon. Don’t you think she’ll be more upset if she sees you entering my room, or exiting it? She sipped the wine. She shouldn’t be having more drinks, but what the hell?

  “She did what?” He didn’t look surprised. “I’m sorry that happened.”

  “I might have said a mean thing or two but I didn’t mean it.” She sighed.

  “She shouldn’t have done that.” There’s no excuse.

  “She told me that you cheated on her.” Vic wasn’t sure if she should tell him that she knew or not.

  “Oh, I don’t really want to talk about that.” He took another gulp of the wine. “I made a mistake and I’ve been trying to show her how committed I am, but she’s having trouble believing me. Can we talk about the house instead”

  “Yeah, sure.” Looking at the books he brought, “What did you bring?”

  He set his three-quarters empty glass down, picked up the two books he’d set on the table and showed them to her. One was Ghost Hunting for Dummies, and So You Think You Have A Haunting.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  She stifled a laugh. “How are those supposed to help?”

  “They’ll tell us what to look for?” He fake frowned.

  “But we already know what to look for. We’ve already seen and smelled ghosts”

  “We have to figure out why the ghosts are here.”

  “I think that failed ritual is why they’re here. I think we need to figure out how to get them to move on.” She said.

  “Why would I want them to move on? Having ghosts is cool.” He was completely serious.

  “Megan doesn’t think so, and neither do I. I was terrified the other night and I didn’t like that.” She took a big sip of her wine. “It knocked my whole worldview askew. Besides, do you want your boys growing up with a ghost nanny?”

  “Not really. I don’t want my kids to be scared.” He poured himself another glass.

  “Did you find any journals written by Edward Charles?” She grabbed one of the books and began flipping through it.

  “No, There’s some paperwork and ledgers, all business-related.” He opened the other book and looked through it. “Virginia’s diary is the only personal thing we’ve found so far. Most of it is weather reports, whether or not she received or sent a letter, how her husband appeared to be.”

  They sat and talked until the wine was gone. Most of it had been drunk by Michael. Vic still sipped the first glass. She helped him out of his chair. He was quite tipsy.

  “Thanks, Vic,” He slurred his speech as he straightened up. “You’re pretty, ya know that.”

  “I’ll have none of that Michael,” She helped him towards her door. “Can you get back to your room all right?”

  “Shure can,” He emphasized the ‘sh’ sound in ‘sure’.

  She opened the door, peeked up and down the hall to make sure nobody was there, and then told Michael goodnight. He staggered out but kept his footing. She watched him stumble down the hall and around the corner toward his rooms. She closed the door and locked it.

  She was starting to believe that man was going to be the death of her. She liked him, a lot. She found him attractive and he thought she was pretty. She was going to have to be careful. Getting entangled with him and his wife would be messy and could ruin her career before it ever got started. She didn’t know what had happened before when he had cheated on Megan, but she knew she had to be careful.

  She put the empty wine bottle in the bathroom trash, washed the glasses in the sink, and left them to dry. She left the bathroom light on, the door cracked, and then crawled into her bed. Laying in bed she thought about the big picture. She was here to use her expertise to help the owners of the home make the most informed decisions on elements of historical accuracy and here she was getting caught up in some sophomoric haunted house drama. She could do better. She did want to know what was going on in the house, but she should focus mainly on the job. If any evidence turned up in connection to the tragedy that happened, or to the whereabouts of any of those missing people, she would examine them. But for now, it was all business. She would keep her distance from Michael and remain professional when she couldn’t. She wouldn’t give Megan any reason to distrust her.

  Vic heard whispering as she nodded off to sleep, and the scent of roses filled the air. Vic found herself sitting at the kitchen table with her crayons. She wore a yellow dress with ribbons in her hair. On the paper in front of her, she had drawn a tree. At the top, she drew a picture of herself and wrote her name below it. Victoria. Beneath it, she drew her mom and dad. Under her father, she put his parents, but that’s as far as it went. Under her mother, she drew her grandmother, but she didn’t know her grandfather, and beneath her grandmother were two more grandmothers, grandfathers unknown.

  “Mom, how come we don’t have any grandpas?” She looked so small sitting in the chair. “Did you know your grandpa? What about your dad? Did you know him?”

  She was having that dream again. This time her mother didn’t talk to her about her sick dad or her own absent father.

  “We’re cursed honey,” She dried her hands on a towel and came to sit at the table with Vic.

  “Why are we cursed?” Vic looked up from her drawing.

  “I don’t know why sweetheart. It happened before my grandma. Her grandma did something that got her cursed.”

  Vic stopped drawing and looked up at her mom, “What did she do?”

  “You’re too young to know.” She looked at Vic with love in her heart.

  “Am not. I’m five,” She held up her hand, splaying her fingers and thumb.

  “Come here,” She gestured to Vic.

  Vic put down her crayon, climbed off the chair, and made her way around the table to her mom. She scooped up Vic and held her in her lap. When you’re grown I’ll tell you. I want you to live your life with no restrictions.” She hugged her daughter.

  “I don’t know what that means Mom, but I can wait until I’m six.” Her mother let go of her and she slid onto the floor.

  Vic looked down the hallway and noticed an open door at the end. Her childhood home didn’t have a door there. Outside was directly on the other side of that wall. She walked across the linoleum and into the carpeted hallway. She went down the dim, narrow hallway until she reached the open door. On the other side was another hallway stretching away from her. Threadbare carpet lined the hall and faded blue wallpaper with vines and flowers on it sagged from the walls, peeling in a few places. She had this incredible urge to walk down that hallway. For some reason, she knew it led to the answers she sought.

  As soon as she stepped through the doorway it shut behind her. She turned to look and it was gone. In its place, the hallway stretched out behind her. What she sought lay in front of her, not behind. She turned back and walked down the hall. The light was dim, but she could see. There were no lights on or any windows, and everything looked gray. Occasionally she came to other passages, doors, and sometimes Staircases leading both up, and down.

  She knew this house. It was the Charles House, but she didn’t recognize the section she was in. At the next intersection, she turned left and headed down to a great staircase. She took the stairs down. Something small was coming towards her out of the gloom. She stopped and watched it. Waiting to be able to identify it. It was small and low to the ground. As it got closer she realized it was Kitty, the orange tabby that was a part of the house. She picked Kitty up and she purred. She held the cat and petted it.

  “What are you doing in my dream?” She asked it.

  The cat meowed at her. She petted it a little longer and then let it go, and it scampered off into the darkness. She found herself in a bizarre gallery of sorts. Pillars held up the roof, but they weren’t straight. They curved away and twisted around each other. Paintings hung on the walls. She walked up to one and it showed a scene of a devil, arms outstretched over a mountain of bodies. It was grotesque. She walked to the next one which showed a naked woman, with a spear through her side and an imp below lapping up the blood. She looked away.

  At the end of the gallery, she saw Edward Charles in his black suit and top hat. He opened a set of double doors and exited. He was the one she sought, like in all her other dreams, but why him? She pursued him as she did in many dreams before. And as before she heard the sound of some great, large beast behind her. She ran to catch up with Edward, but even though he walked and she ran he seemed to get even farther away. And the beast behind her seemed to get closer. She ran down large corridors, down a spiral staircase, through a labyrinth of a library, and down more stairs into the basement. She ran on, managing to see where Edward went next before disappearing ahead of her once more.

  Fear built up in Vic as she chased after him. The beast was so close behind her that she could feel its breath on the back of her neck. She couldn’t stop now. She ran through a stone room with nothing inside and into a hole in the wall, with curving steps down, down, down. She came out into a vast chamber with gothic pillars that stretched into the darkness above. Edward stood behind an altar of some sort and looked like he was waiting for her. A grim smile showed on his face. The beast behind her growled. She spun around and saw a woman with red eyes and bloody veins stretching out from her eyes. She leaped through the air toward her, arms outstretched, with long nails like claws reaching towards her. She stumbled back and fell.

  Vic woke with a start as she hit a hard surface beneath her. It was cold and dark all around her. Where was she? She knew she had sleepwalked, it was obvious. She was still inside the house. The cold floor suggested she was in the basement somewhere, but where? A chill draft came through the darkness. She picked herself up off the floor, brushed herself off, and began shuffling towards a wall. A few moments later she found a light switch. She was in the cellar again. The same one she woke up in before. The same one with the breaker, and the same one she and Michael encountered those ghosts in.

  She found the door and exited the room. It was pitch black down here, her breathing ragged. She knew it was ridiculous to be scared, but then again, ghosts were real and she didn’t know what that ultimately meant. She felt along the wall as she walked toward the stairwell. Whispering came from behind her. She couldn’t make out any words, but it was coming from down in the boiler room. She was creeped out thoroughly and hurried faster. She passed a few more doors before she came to the stairwell door and the light switch. She flipped it, illuminating the long hall in a dim glow. Nothing appeared in the light, but she could still hear whispering coming from down the stairs to the boiler room.

  She opened the stairwell door, flipped the switch inside to turn on the bare bulb on the next floor, and ran up the stairs. She continued up to the second floor. She strained her hearing, listening to see if anything followed her from below. On the second floor, she burst out into the dark hallway and continued down until she reached her room. Once inside she turned on all the lights and crawled under the covers. She was freezing. She had locked the door before she went to sleep. How did she get out? She looked at the bedside table where she had left the key. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t sticking out of the door either. It was full dark outside and she did not fall asleep again until the first rays of the sun appeared over the city.

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