A Ghost of a Chance

Who Ya Gonna Call?

Laura opens the video recording software and clears her throat before hitting the record button.

"Well, viewers, it's been days of researching, and I'm going to summarize what I've found so far."

To be honest, Carmilla's been curious herself. She took a peek a couple days ago but there were so many documents between the history of house ownership, the deed to the land, newspaper articles about the neighborhood, and information about fault lines that Carmilla could actually feel herself manage to fall asleep, even though it wasn't possible.

Laura squints at the screen and huffs. "First let me just—" She gets up to close the curtains and smiles when she sees the glare on the laptop recording screen is gone. "I guess this ghost here enjoys throwing curtains open and screwing with my lighting," she grumbles.

Carmilla rolls her eyes so far she's not sure they'll ever come back as Laura settles back down in her seat and sifts through some papers, getting them in order.

Yes, she's been getting Laura's nerves, but it's been a two-way street. Laura's managed to annoy Carmilla just as much, with her uppity antics and unfaltering determination. Which, incidentally, happen to also be part of her adorableness, as well.

Get it together, Karnstein.

"The original house was a large estate that took up most of this neighborhood back in the seventeenth century," Laura begins. "It was owned by the Karnsteins, but in 1698, some of the local townspeople rebelled while they were throwing a ball–– something about unfair taxes–– and raided the home, running the residents out of the property. In the process, the family's only daughter, Mircalla Karnstein, was murdered. That was the first tragic occurrence documented." Laura swallows hard. She averts her gaze from the camera for a second, picking at the edge of the page. "The poor girl was only 18."

Carmilla quirks an eyebrow. Laura had never met her, but here she was, caring so much about her premature end? What an odd girl.

Laura sighs and shuffles some papers around. "After that, the estate was split off into properties with homes, with the main house itself also going through a revolving door of ownerships. By 1872, it was owned by a reclusive man and his daughter. One night, a mysterious fire started. Both the father and daughter escaped, but barely. There's not much on her, but there were some articles referring to her by the name 'Ell.'"

Carmilla shifts uncomfortably. There's a name I haven't thought of in a while.

"The main house basically burnt to the ground and was then rebuilt into what you see before you now, with some renovations over the years. The home that my friend Betty died in."

Laura's voice cracks a bit and she clears her throat again to recompose herself.

"I know that deaths are common, especially in a house with this much history. But there's been a pattern, especially with the girls who move in here. They either move out months after moving in, or just die. And it's almost like it's clockwork–– every twenty years."

Carmilla walks over to Laura and stares down at her. She seems to be holding back tears.

"What kind of monster am I dealing with, here?"

Laura takes a deep, shaky breath and taps her fingers on the desk for a few moments.

"Anyway, the haunty stuff hasn't really stopped. The food has now just flat-out gone missing. Furniture is still moving. The shower drain gets clogged. The curtains are still thrown open in the morning. But other than that, nothing like the house shaking and objects falling on me." Laura shrugs. "I guess Danny being here did have something to do with it."