The Haunted Mansion

The Ghostly Tour

We walked down the corridor. The furnishings and walls were covered with cobwebs.

"We were not expecting...others," another voice said from the shadows. A tall pale figure in the form of an old man walked towards us. He seemed pale in complexion, and towered about in a sophisticated manner of appearance.

"The butler, I imagine?" I asked him.

"My name is Ramsley," he said.

"Well, forgive our intrusion, Mr. Ramsley, sir," I said to him. "But we were welcomed in."

"Yes, of course," he said. "We usually do not take visitors. But it is nice to have guests. If, you will kindly follow me"

He led us into a large parlor with windows and a portrait.

"I hope you all don't have an aversion to darkness and cold. But we spirits haunt our best in gloomy darkness. And we have had every consideration given to our comfort here. Do enjoy your visit. And kindly watch your step as you go about, please."

He turned towards me with a slight glance.

"Would you care for a drink, sir?"

"Oh, no. Not for the moment. Thank you, Ramsley."

"Very well. Then I shall leave you to your tour then. I hope you will all meet the master soon enough."

"Carry on," I said. He bowed and walked away.

"Hehehe. I say, carry on. He walks off," I chuckled.

"He just left us here," Liberty complained. "Now which way do we go?"

"Yeah, I'm already wanting to get out of this whacky place," Zeke interjected.

"Hmmm. I think it's a challenge. I think there's a secret door here somewhere. In every haunted house story I've ever read." I said. "Even houses in mystery novels have some kind of hidden passage. Just need to find what can open the hidden path here."

"Apparently, the staff of this ghostly manor has been greeting you warmly in the most ghoulish way possible. Such is our spiritual hospitality here," the ghost host told us, his voice echoing through the air and around the walls once again.

"But to continue our tour, you must find the door to the secret path."

"Well, guys," I said. "Check the bookshelves in that little parlor up there, and look in the rooms of this hallway. See if you find anything."

So, we did so. Nothing from the small parlor opened a door of any kind. Liberty and I checked every room possible. She and I gathered back in the main area. Several windows in the room allowed us to the see the outside. And there amidst some trees and shrubs was the private graveyard.

Even though the rain was falling hard, an unnatural fog choked the gravestones. The rain was coming down against the windows. A little bit of it coming in through some small cracks within the windows. The air was damp and had a musty smell.

Zeke entered a room and came across a portrait of man. Before his eyes, the man turned into a werewolf. The creature jumped out of the picture and jumped towards Zeke. Zeke ran out of the room screaming in terror.

Liberty and I ran towards him.

"What happened?!" I asked.

"Some kind of freaky wolf monster, man!" Zeke shouted. "It tried to eat me!"

Suddenly, Liberty had begun to sense something.

"Wait. In the gathering room there," she said "I feel the passage is behind the portrait."

We went back to check it. I tapped on it a little lightly. A peculiar sound emanated from behind it.

"Your right. It's very hollow behind there. The passage must be behind here. But how do I open it?"

On instinct, I picked up a nearby candle. Suddenly, the portrait moved about as if opening like a door. Inside the frame looked like a path.

"That must be it," I said.

"Well done," replied our ghost host. "Now, are we ready to continue your tour? Then let's go ahead. Be on your guard. The spirits await. And they're all just...dying to meet you."

We entered the doorway as he left with a maniacal laugh. As we walked in through the door, we were greeted by an appalling cold. This as I would know, is the traditional manifestation of the supernatural.

"A cold spot. A genuine cold spot," I muttered. "Now we're really talking. Things like this indicate supernatural presences. What we we've been experiencing before was merely a warm-up, it seems."

"Yes, of course," the ghost host said to me. "Your senses do not seem to deceive you, young mortal," he chuckled. "You have a very active imagination. That's good."

We walked through a small room dimly lit by flickering candles. Inside was an old staircase. On top the balcony above stood a candelabra. It seemed to be moving about. Underneath the stairs was a large web. In it sat a large spider. it's legs spread out.

"Ew! Spiders!" Zeke said. "I don't like spiders. Nasty, ugly, horrible things."

"Yeah. They're freaky for damn sure," I told Zeke. "If my cousin Mando were here, he wouldn't make it past them. He hates spiders. He's scared to death of 'em."

We pressed onward and came across a dimly lit hallway. On the left side were windows revealing a grotesque landscape, frequently illuminated by the lightning flashes. On the opposite side of the corridor were large portraits. And when the lightning flashed, the paintings turned into nightmarish versions of themselves.

"There are several prominent ghosts who have retired here from creepy old crypts, all over the world," our host told us as we walked down the corridor.

"Actually, we have 999 happy haunts here. But there's room for a thousand. Any volunteers? Hmmmm? Hahahahahaha! If you insist on lagging behind, you may not need to volunteer. Come along now."

We walked down the corridor and, it made a sharp turn into a large room filled with book shelves, and several busts in the alcoves.

"Our library is well stocked with priceless first editions. Only ghost stories, of course," the ghost host said to us with a playful chuckle.

"And marble busts of the greatest ghost writers, the literary world has ever known. They have all retired here to the haunted mansion."

We moved through the library then. As we made our way, several of the busts moved in our direction. They were staring as we walked our way toward the next room.

"Have any of you given thought about becoming permanent residents?" The Ghost Host asked us. "The offer still stands."

It seemed we entered a grand piano parlor. A dusty grand piano stood in front of a large window revealing a gloomy landscape.

The moonlight shined through the windows and onto the floor revealing a silhouette playing the piano pounding away at the keys. We walked past, and then we walked onto a staircase.

"Well, if you should decide to join us," the ghost host briefly interjected, "final arrangements may be made at the end of the tour."

We climbed up the staircase. On both sides, it was like an endless labyrinth of staircases.

"This is like out of Hogwarts!" Zeke shouted. "This place is place is just getting weirder and weirder."

"It's amazing," I proclaimed. "This is turning out to be more than I ever imagined for a supernatural adventure."

Ghostly footprints appeared and disappeared across the stairs. Candles blew out and relit at will. Onward, we pressed into the dark void. From within, all around us, groups of eyes peered out from the shadows, whispers floating all around.

"The spirits. They're talking to each other from within the walls," Liberty spoke. "About us. As if they welcome us."