Behind Closed Doors

Episode 1

"Um, come again? Because I'm pretty sure I just heard you say there is a demon in one of the back bedrooms." Lizzy sputtered.

The ghost raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what you mean."

Lizzy blinked and shook her head. "What do you mean you don't know what I mean? You just said a demon was in one of the back bedrooms. It's a little hard to believe, after all."

"You're talking to a ghost, and you find it hard to believe that there is a demon in one of the back bedrooms?" Ruth shook her head, but she looked at Lizzy like she should know better, of all people.

Dolores tittered and shifted in her seat. "Mama. You know he's dangerous. It's a bad idea to tell her about him. It might tempt her to go see him."

Ruth frowned at her daughter. "I'm telling her exactly so she doesn't go back there and get herself killed seeking it out. There is nothing for you here, Lizzy. Nothing good. Go home." She shook her head and sighed, moving to pick up a needlework box sitting next to her chair. Her fingers wafted through the handle, and she glared at the item, her frustration palpable. "Now."

Lizzy stood from her seat and considered her options for several seconds. Hannah and her minions were still waiting for her outside the house and probably would for a while, or at least until dusk fell. It wasn't like she could leave any time soon.

She could explore some of the house instead. All the rooms seemed to be filled with gorgeous furniture and she was sure Ruth could give her a great history of the place. Ghosts always knew the juiciest gossip and information.

'Or I could totally go see what a demon looks like,' she thought to herself. 'You know, just to make sure it's really there.'

Glancing between Ruth and Dolores, a huge smile spread across her face. "I know you just said I shouldn't," Lizzy ignored the look Ruth shared with Dolores, "But, yeah, I definitely want to go see the demon." She jumped to her feet. "I am assuming 'back bedroom' means this floor."

Ruth shook her head, but smiled. "All right, but if you get hurt, it is your fault."

Dolores followed Lizzy, wringing her sweater between her fists. "Well, it's not like she'll see the door anyhow. It has an enchantment hiding it."

"Except the enchantments seem to be failing," Ruth replied. She eyed a patch of mold on the foyer walls.

Lizzy entered the kitchen and looked around. She was surprised to find the kitchen well stocked with appliances and furniture. Though they resembled something from the early twentieth-century, they were in remarkably good condition.

Running her hand over the stove, she glanced at Ruth. "When was this house built?"

"Construction finished in 1917, but Mr. Creston didn't move here until 1921. Even then, he was rarely in residence, flitting from one gathering to another. However, he made sure to outfit the house with the newest and best of everything." Ruth shuffled from the stove, to a counter, to the sink, and the icebox, mimicking the task of cooking. "I do miss keeping the house. I made the best cherry pies this side of the Sound."

Lizzy moved to the table, looking at the dishes. The patterns were pretty, but nothing special. She sighed, her curiosity piqued. "What happened to him?"

"Mr. Creston?" Ruth shook her head. "He was never here long enough for anyone to get to know him. He spent most of his time at the city club and with the ladies. Rumor has it that he had a few mistresses, but none of them stayed very long. Well, except the last one. But that isn't my story to tell."

Lizzy's eyes widened. "Wait, there was someone else who lived here?"

Ruth nodded. "The last owner. She was a lovely woman. She spent more time here than Mr. Creston did. The house was built for her, so she had plenty of room to entertain guests. She loved to have parties."