The Haunted Mansion

The Terror Begins

As we walked through the door, we felt chills greeting us walking into the foyer.

"She might be an actual ghost. I don't know. But she's creepy. I like her," I said to my friends.

The housemaid led us towards a fireplace. Above it sat a portrait of a handsome gentleman.

"Wow. Classy," I exclaimed. "I'd love a big picture of myself like that in my room. Adds a touch of elegance."

"Ja, Herr Tom. Very elegant indeed. But you see...this is no normal house. Your host shall arrive momentarily to guide on a tour of this sanctuary for the disembodied. I shall inform the master of visitors."

She disappeared, walking off through a door.

Before our very eyes, the gentleman's portrait began aging until it reached a tattered skeleton in rags.

I felt perplexed, amazed and terrified all at once. It was like magic.

Zeke thought. "I don't know if you guys saw that, but I must be hallucinating."

"I saw it too," I said. I guess this really is a haunted mansion. Just like I always hoped to experience."

Liberty suddenly entered a sort of trance. She began to speak as if possessed by something. Like out of a demon possession movie or something. As if she had no control over herself.

"In a room without a door,

"An eerie sound spreads throughout the hall

"The candle flame sways even though there is no wind

"You see, here and there, the ghosts are fighting for your fear, And they are smiling with joy.

"When the dismal knell of a Requiem Bell

"Calls the Spirits forth from the Tomb,

"And the mournful sound of a baying Hound

"Chill your soul with an Aura of gloom.

"Then the Spirits ride on a ghostly Wind

"Wailing their Song of Doom."

"Liberty! Get a hold of yourself!" Zeke shouted, shaking her.

"Stop!" I shouted.

Zeke let go of Liberty as she fell to the floor.

"Liberty? Are you alright?" I asked.

She stood up trying to recompose herself.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," she said to us. "I don't know what came over me."

It was obvious she wasn't able to explain what happened. Shrubbing herself off, she kept her eyes widened.

"Probably a spiritual force overtook ya," I said.

"Nah. It's just a hysterics episode," Zeke said. "Probably something we ate."

The wall next to the fireplace began to move to the side as if opening an elevator door.

"Welcome foolish mortals," a mysterious voice said. "to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host. Your ghost host."

Another person materialized out of thin air into the passage doorway.

"Kindly step this way please. I have much to show you." He disappeared again, and we walked through the wall panel into a large room. The room was a gallery. It's walls were covered with paintings.

"Our tour begins here in this ghostly gallery. Here where you see paintings of some of our guests. As they appeared in the corruptible mortal state."

He materialized in front of us, again motioning us in.

"Kindly drag your bodies away from the walls and into the dead center of the Room please. No more time to kill," he chuckled. As he we stepped further into the room, he vanished.

"Is it just me or do the subject of these paintings look rather familiar?" I asked.

"Oh yes, of course," the ghost host told us. Everything here can seem familiar as the spirits respond to your sympathetic vibrations. Are we all settled in then? Then your tour can now commence. There's no turning back now."

As he said that last sentence, we heard the sounds of the wall sliding. The door had closed behind us.

From within the walls came horrible creaking sounds and groaning too. As the room began to stretch out right in front of us.

"Your cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of foreboding. Almost as though you sense a disquieting metamorphosis," the ghost host told us. "Is this haunted room actually stretching? Or is it your imagination? Hm?"

As the room grew taller, the paintings grew out as well, revealing a series of grim situations for each person.

It was as if he wanted us to believe that even though our eyes told us the walls were stretching our logic was telling us otherwise that it was a hallucination. But there was one thing in that room our logic could not deny.

"And consider this dismaying observation," he warned us. "This chamber has no windows and no doors."

A sinister chuckle from him was more than enough to confirm what we already knew to be true.

"Which offers all of you this chilling challenge: to find a way out!"

His laughter echoed through the room as we looked to the ceiling above. As if he seemed to float about in that direction.

"Of course," he said in a rather sinisterly seductive tone. "There's always my way!"

The room went pitch black. Lightning flashed from above. To our horror, the ceiling disappeared revealing the attic cupola. The flashes revealed a skeletal corpse hanging from the rafters. Suddenly, the three of us stood in shock during an endless darkness, as a horrible scream filled the air. Then a loud crash of some kind reverberated in the darkness. In a few seconds, the candles relit.

The ceiling returned as well. A black raven cawed at us from above glaring to us.

"Ok, first of all," Zeke said, "Where did he go?"

He turned to the raven.

"And second of all, what is your problem, okay?" The raven just cawed and flew off.

The ghost host spoke to us again, his voice flowing through the air.

"Oh, I didn't mean to frighten you prematurely," he said.

"The real chills come later. Now follow my voice, please."

A panel opened in the wall.

"There is much to see. So...look alive. And let's all stay together, please. I'd hate to lose you all so soon.

As we stepped out, he briefly materialized in front of us.

"Oh yes. And no flash pictures, please. We spirits are frightfully sensitive to bright lights."

"Huh. They're sensitive. Who knew?" I chuckled.