Groomed for Death ⚜ A TPN Fanfiction

~Grace Field House's Ghostly Incidents I~

[Narrator's Perspective]

 The children gathered in the room before curfew, clustering around a bed with an air of eager anticipation. They were strewn about in various poses: some sitting cross-legged on the floor, others sprawled out comfortably. The dim glow of a solitary lamp cast long shadows on the walls, adding an eerie ambiance to the room. Their older sister, Olivia, sat at the head of the bed, clutching a pillow to her chest as she began her tale, her voice a soft murmur that barely rose above a whisper.
  
   "I saw it the night before..." Olivia began, her eyes wide with remembered fear.

   (I'm curious about what Olivia saw...)

Ninelie was nestled amongst her siblings, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for Olivia to continue. Emma, sitting beside her, leaned in closer, her eyes fixed on Olivia with rapt attention.

   "A white figure zipped across the hallway as I tried to return to my room from the toilet," Olivia whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I was scared and ran back to my room, but what I saw was definitely a ghost."

As if on cue, the heavens opened up, and rain began to pelt against the windows, the sound echoing throughout the room like a mournful symphony. Olivia sat next to Marcus, an older boy with a serious expression, who took a deep breath before speaking.

 "I saw it as well." Marcus said, his voice steady but low.

All eyes turned to him, including Ninelie's and Emma's. Marcus had a knack for storytelling that captivated his younger siblings.

   "You see, I heard a sound at night," Marcus continued, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "When I woke up, it was the sound of a piano. This was in the middle of the night, you know! I went all the way to see who was playing it, and—!"

The children leaned in closer, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement.
   
   "And?!" they chorused, some clutching their pillows tightly.

   "No~ one was there," Marcus finished with a flourish, his eyes twinkling with delight at their reactions.

A collective gasp filled the room, "That's terrifying!" someone exclaimed.

Ninelie felt a shiver run down her spine. (But, wasn't that just me?) she thought, but kept her silence. The atmosphere was too electric to disrupt with logic.

Gilda, who had been sitting quietly next to Don, began to cry, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, it's Marcus' terrifying voice!"

   "Hey, it was Olivia who started telling ghost stories, not me," Marcus retorted, gently shoving Olivia, who shoved him back with a laugh.

Don gently patted Gilda's head and reassured her, "It's okay, Gilda! You know ghosts aren't real, right?"

   "...But, but... Marcus and Olivia said..."

   "Wait, you actually believe them?"

   "Now, now, everyone, it's time for bed; go to sleep!" came a voice of authority, and the children began to disperse, some still chattering excitedly about the stories.

Ninelie slipped out of the room, heading towards the infirmary where she had been instructed to sleep. She had only recently recovered from an infection and needed to be monitored. As she reached the door, Olivia caught up with her, calling her name softly.

   "Ninelie," whispered Olivia.

Ninelie paused, the door half-closed, and turned to face her sister, "Yes...?"