~ Joseph Abrams ~
Greetings, Joseph Abrams.
Forgive me for not properly introducing myself, but it's imperative that my identity remains a secret. For now, you can call me the Ghost, as you and many others are already doing. While that's not my real name, it's certainly an adequate observation.
You seem to be a smart man, Joseph - may I call you Joseph? You've clearly done something right, since you have the entire manor adoring you. Even Opal Green - an uptight, serious woman - respects you. Well, it's probably more accurate to say that almost the entire manor adores you. Unfortunately, I do not find myself within their ranks.
As decent as your intelligence appears to be, Mr. Abrams, I have come to question it at times. Particularly whenever you deem it fit to ignore my warnings. As I've told you time and time again, cease searching for me. You will not find me. As you and your colleagues have pointed out, I am a ghost. If I do not wish to be seen, then I will not be seen.
Do not look for me. Do not hunt for me. Do not try to figure out who I am. Do not try to figure out who I once was. I don't like people who pry, Mr. Abrams. It does not matter. My past is no longer of any importance, as I'm sure some could tell you.
You will be in no danger if you listen to my words. Though if you choose, once again, to ignore me... well, let's just say you wouldn't like the consequences.
Consider this your final warning.
Your obedient servant,
S. R.
I'd torn up the letter and tossed it into the trash the first chance I got.
This was hardly the first time I've received a message from the Ghost - mostly short, half-long pages of warning me to stop looking, normally followed by some kind of action - just a few days ago, I woke up to a note saying, It's in your best interest to stop looking immediately. I, as usual, ignored the message. My mattress was flipped off my bed that night - while I was asleep in it.
However, this was the first time I'd gotten an actual letter. I'd read through it nearly ten times, trying to read between the lines, attempting to decipher if there was any useful information hidden in clever wording.
I didn't find anything, unless you'd consider the Ghost not particularly liking me useful.
Another thing about the letter that caught me off guard - the signature.
What does S. R. stand for?
In the first paragraph, the Ghost had stated that its identity must remain a secret. So why sign the letter? To throw me off the trail? Unlikely. Was it a force of habit? A mistake? I didn't know anybody who went by those initials, living or dead.
I had asked Opal if she knew anything. She had paled, coughed, sputtered, then dared to claim that she knew nothing. She was lying. It was painfully obvious.
It was also very clear that the Ghost had been mocking me. From mentioning its doubt in my intelligence - which is perfectly good, thank you very much - to calling itself my obedient servant... the infernal demon obviously had no respect for me.
Which is perfectly fine. I'm beginning to close in on it, anyways.
Miss Darcy had agreed with my theory that there might be passages and tunnels hidden around the manor, so the Ghost could go about its hauntings unseen. It made sense. With all of the people living here, at least one person had to be able to connect with ghosts. But since nobody's seen anything - only strange events that point to evidence of paranormal activity - my theory made the most sense.
I wish I'd had some help with this task, though. It would be difficult enough to do it alone - and with my old, failing eyesight, it was even harder. But Miss Gail had already agreed to help me look in the music room, and Miss Barns - sweet, kind Miss Barns - had enough on her plate already, poor thing. I can't imagine what it had been like to discover Miss Young in the pond.
I would have asked Miss Darcy to assist me, but she didn't look well. She was pale, withdrawn, and looked very tired. Perhaps she's coming down with something. I must remember to deliver a hot bowl of soup to her at some point - if my memory doesn't fail me yet again.
Ah, the joys of old age.
Currently, I was stepping carefully around in the storage room, looking for anything... strange. At first glance, everything appeared to be in order. But then I remembered the books I loved to read when I was younger, when reading didn't strain my eyes so much - Mrs. Darcy and Opal are always on me about getting glasses, but I don't really see the point. I can do my job perfectly well without those augmented eye-windows constantly slipping down my nose.
Anyways... what had I been thinking about?
Right! The books I had once adored... some of them contained hidden passages and the like. They'd always be hidden behind something, whether it be a bookshelf, or a mirror, or...
My eyes flew to the assumed spot.
A storage shelf.
It was the perfect place to hide a passage! Nobody ever moved the shelf - it was bolted to the wall so it wouldn't fall over. I made my way over to the shelf.
I pulled.
Nothing happened.
I snorted. Stupid, Joseph, stupid! Of course it wouldn't be that simple. There had to be some kind of mechanism, a hidden lever of some kind. A broken statue, or fake book, or...
Once again, my eyes landed on a suitable object.
The broken broom-hanger thing nobody uses anymore.
Holding my breath, I pulled on it.
It took me a few tries to maneuver it into the right direction. When it was facing diagonally up and to the left, there was a sharp click!
The shelf swung open.
A gust of cold air wafted from the tunnel. It was dark, an inky blackness swallowing up any light that dared to enter. I shuddered. I had been right. This was how the Ghost got Alie out of the storage room without anybody being any the wiser. I hated to think of her in that long stretch of darkness...
I didn't have time to explore the tunnel any further, though. Miss Gail would be waiting for me.
But first, I wanted to stop by my office. I wanted to chart down this passage, and maybe look for any other rooms that might have the same hidden, dark tunnel that seem to stretch on and on for an eternity.
I kept note of all of my findings on this particular subject. Disappearances, both for people and food, took up the majority of my notes. On average, approximately two people were abducted every year, though they mostly returned, safe and sound... physically. Mentally, I think it's safe to say there were not safe and sound. They resigned their post immediately and moved out of Plattsburgh within the week. Alie was the first person the Ghost has killed, as far as I know.
As for the food, about a week's worth disappeared every week. Except for lately... more and more food has been stolen, especially this past week. The Ghost probably had a month's worth by now, but why a ghost required food was beyond me. Still, it's probably up to something... something big...
Was it trying to starve us out? Not likely, since we could just simply run to the grocery store to get more food. Was it planning a mass abduction? Where would it even keep all of those people? In the tunnels? Were there hidden rooms, too? Was there perhaps a whole labyrinth I didn't know about?
You've read too many books, Joseph.
I investigated my blueprints of the manor, jotting down a little star in the storage room. Where would there be other tunnel entrances? Behind the shelves in the music room? The bookshelf nailed to the wall in Mrs. Darcy's study? Under a loose floorboard in the kitchen? Hmmm... I'd have to investigate the kitchen. The Ghost had to get that food in and out of there somehow. Last I checked, food couldn't go through walls, either.
Other places? Maybe there was a fake wall in my closet. I made a mental note to thoroughly check my bedroom after I finished in the music room. There may be some entrances in other bedrooms, too. The heavy wardrobe in Opal's room - almost a Narnia situation - would be a good place to have a tunnel behind. And there was that mirror stuck to the wall in Miss Darcy's bedroom. When she was younger, she'd complain about how ugly it was, but she seems to like it now. Still, I remember how Mr. Darcy and I tried about a dozen different methods to pry it off. The stubborn thing didn't move an inch.
I put a question mark on all of those locations, then stuffed the map back into a drawer. There was a new spring in my step as I left my office and headed down the hall.
There was a noise - singing. Coming from the library. I smiled. It's been years since I last heard Miss Darcy's voice echoing through the halls. It was a truly beautiful sound, one I missed dearly. It didn't take too long for me to figure out who convinced her to sing.
Mr. Charlton was good for her. He made her smile. Laugh. Really laugh. I'd worried that after her father passed, she'd never truly be whole again. And maybe that's true, but I still think she found the spark she'd been missing.
Miss Darcy was born to perform.
I stopped outside of the library, the music room just a few feet away on my other side. I'd listen to Miss Darcy, just for a moment, before I joined Miss Gail.
There was silence coming from the library.
It was eerily quiet in the hall, too, I noticed, just as the lights plunged out.
Ah. The silence. The absence of electricity. No matter. I'd simply head to the breaker and turn -
"I warned you," came a voice in the darkness. As a chill spread throughout my body, I wished, not for the first time, that somebody would install a window in the hallway. "I told you, Mr. Abrams, that there'd be consequences for your actions."
The Ghost.
Information discovered... the Ghost appears to be masculine. I mentally jotted down a note for later. If I remembered.
However, remembering to write something down was the least of my problems right now. Fear gripped me, hard, unlike anything I'd ever felt before, at the sound of the Ghost's whispered voice.
Though it was a beautiful voice, it was also dangerous.
Beautifully dangerous things are always the most deadly.
"Though, to be fair, what's to come isn't entirely your fault," he continued. The voice came from behind me, to my left. I turned, but I couldn't see anything. "You're not the only one about to suffer consequences today. Unfortunately for you, though, the consequences do seem to be the same thing."
I wondered who else was unfortunate enough to upset the Ghost. Hopefully, it wasn't somebody I cared about.
At that moment, there was a woosh from behind me.
This was JUST BARELY the shortest chapter in this book. It's the shortest by 100 words... this was nearly 1000 words longer than I planned lolol.
Okay... so, if you payed attention, a lot was hinted at in this chapter.
So, I have a few questions for you right now.
DON'T say who you think the Ghost is. You'll be wrong. Trust me.
That being said... did any of the wording in the letter seem familiar?
What do you think S. R. stands for?
Who else managed to piss off the Ghost?
I'm excited for the next chapter... very excited...
Don't forget to vote and comment!
Love you all!
~ Evie