Feels Like Home

Haunted House

She is nervous as we are the next in line. We have to sign a disclaimer that says we can't sue if we die or some nonsense like that. She quickly signs the document as do I and then our hands find each others again.

"Come on, you two, the time has arrived." A man dressed as a zombie butler says, "Welcome to the Blythe mansion where abnormalities abound. Mind your heads as you travel about. Beware. Not all who enter will survive."

He walks us to the door, his mouth sags on one side and one of his legs drags behind him. His act is good. Mahri seems to have bought into it. I smile as I watch her. She loves to live life and allows herself feel all of its moments even when she is as terrified as she is now. I love the way she is fully invested in everything she tries, it inspires me to try and be more real and take in all of life that can.

The double door in front of us creaks open. The door is ten feet tall with black wooden panels that creep up to a curved point in the middle that is inlaid with images of life and death. The edges appeared to have claw marks and were worn as if the years had taken their toll.  I couldn't tell how they created such a magnificent facade, but it was an excellent touch.

She is already burying her face in my shoulder. I squeeze her hand. "Are you sure you still want to do this? It is not too late to leave."

"Yes, I am positive.  I am doing this," she says and forces herself to stand up taller.

We are greeted by a housemaid, pale, with hollow eyes. She is wearing a traditional maid uniform, black and white, but it is tarnished and disheveled.  Her tights have rips and tears. She is a young, but a tiny woman whose hands somehow look gnarled as she reaches them out to us. Her hair is jet black with a streak of white and pulled into a messy bun on top of her head.  

"We must hurry," she says leading us toward a set of doors, heavy and laden with spiderwebs. Her voice is gravelly and thick. "I heard a scream and the master isn't home," she continues.

The inside of this mansion is even more imposing than the outside. The foyer that we are standing in has twelve foot ceilings painted red an a sickly shade of crimson. The black velvet covered furniture is gorgeous and must be original to the house. A black crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling. Skulls and potions fill the shelves that are bulging with details. Rats in cages, sorcery books and carefully placed spiderwebs add to the effect. A picture in the wall has eyes that follow as we move across the room. To the left, a raven bellows, "Danger, danger to all who enter here." Bats fly high in the ceiling, their bodies hanging from the rafters. In the air, music from an untuned piano fills the space.

The housemaid continues on. "Follow me," she beckons, looking nervous and rushed.Her voice lowers and she continues to speak, "The sound came from just down this hallway."  The hall that we enter seems to be a little too narrow and a little too tall somehow. The wallpaper is an ornate mauve and pink rose pattern, the door jambs are painted black. Now, all of the pictures on the wall have eyes that move wherever we go. The discordant piano music gets increasingly louder the farther that we  move into the mansion.

"Stop!" The maid stops suddenly and puts a finger up to her lips. As she does this a black figure begins to approach from the end of the hallway. It grows taller and skinnier as it comes closer. This shadow continues to climb up the wall. As the housemaid shudders and hides in the corner,  Shadowman's finger begins to resemble the branches of the trees outside, coming to sharp points at the end. He lurks in the corners and searches for any soul to disarm.  He is like a dog searching for its prey.

My hand is losing circulation. Mahri is holding tight to me and there is not even a shred of space between the two of us . She is breathing quickly. "Baby, it's ok," I whisper, leaning in to kiss her on the head. She looks up with a weak smile and eyes full of resolve.