Groomed for Death ⚜ A TPN Fanfiction

~Grace Field House's Ghostly Incidents III~

[Narrator's Perspective]

The quartet sought Abbie's perspective on the situation. Since seeing Helena's drawing, she's been terrified, closing her eyes whenever she has to pass through that corridor. They enquired of several of their siblings about their experiences.

   "We gathered a lot of data today." Norman remarked, sitting in the playroom and staring at his notebook. His notebook was mostly filled with key words. He could recall the entire story simply by looking at the words, each one triggering a cascade of memories and connections.

Ninelie approached Emma, leaning in close to her ear. "Hey Emma... May I leave now?" she whispered, hoping not to draw too much attention.

Emma's eyes widened in surprise, and she practically shouted, "WHAT?! But why? We haven't even started hunting for ghosts yet!"

   "..."

Ninelie sighed, feeling a little embarrassed by her friend's outburst, "You could've just whispered back."

Emma, realizing her mistake, lowered her voice. "Oh, sorry; and no, sorry; once you've joined us, there's no turning back," she explained with a determined look.

Ninelie sighed again, this time more resignedly. "I didn't sign up for this in the first place – never mind," she said, deciding to go along with them for the time being. She'd had this lingering feeling for a while now, the kind of feeling that her siblings would eventually discover that it was just Ninelie playing the piano and that no ghost was involved.

   (Would they be disappointed to find out that it was me? Or would they feel relieved?)  

In addition to Marcus, several children had claimed to have heard the sounds coming from the piano. They all said the music had stopped before they could see who was playing. Although they couldn't see who had played the piano, everyone agreed that the song they heard was solemn, dark, and depressing—a fitting tune for a ghost to play. (Refer to Rose's and Isabella's lullabies)

Emma's eyes lit up with a brilliant idea. She stood up suddenly, clutching a library book under her arm and a box of handicraft materials in her hand instead of the magnifying glass, "I have something I have to make!" she proudly exclaimed.

She took a large sheet of paper and began folding it with intense concentration. "If we're going to look for these ghosts at night, Emma, we should nap during the day," Ninelie suggested, watching her friend's fervor with a mix of amusement and concern.

   "I'll be fine!"

  "You're going to fall asleep eventually, you know."

   "I won't!" Emma replied, dismissing her friends' suggestions with a wave of her hand.

Ninelie, still curious, leaned in closer, "What are you making, by the way?" 

   "I'm... trying to make... this... something..." Emma muttered, rolling the paper into a thin tube, which promptly unfolded as she tried to tape it. "Ahh!" she groaned in frustration.

Norman, who had been watching the whole exchange with a fond smile, recognized Emma's distress. He put down his notebook and moved to assist her.