The House Of Whoosher... ;-)

[Joxcenia]

Whooshites from near and far arrived at the 'House Of Whoosher' in droves and were each assigned a room for their month long stay. Those who stayed the whole month without fleeing in fear would be entered in a vote-off, and the winner would be crowned 'Ghost Buster of the Year.'

Dark clouds rolled in with the tides, as the strong winds picked up sand from the beach and pelted it against the stone walls of the sinister mansion. Joxcee pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes to protect them from the onslaught and bumped into...

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Edited to change 'Ghost Buster of 2004'... because 2004 is over and who knows how long this tale will go on before reaching the end.

[Scrappy Amazon]

Scrappy as she was attempting to make her way to the house.

“Well Hello there. Almost didn’t see you. Are you here by invitation too?” She begins to rifle around in her long black leather trench coat for the invitation. “Now where did I put that? Ah there it is.” She pulls an envelope out of an unseen interior pocket and shows it to the stranger with the hat. The fine black lettering written on the expensive stationary begins to run as fat raindrops start to fall in a chaotic pattern.

“Guess we should get inside before we get drenched. I’m Scrappy by the way.” She sticks her gloved hand out to the stranger. When no return hand was forthcoming she turned to her motorcycle pulled a cover out of the saddlebags and began tucking it tightly around her bike. “Guess the introductions should wait until we get inside.” She raises a hand palm up and points it toward the front door. “Shall we? Lead the way.”

Scrappy looks up and assess the house as they make their way up the front path. Three stories of solid stone loom before them. A gabled roof sports a few gruesome Gargoyles that stare ominously from their high perch.

A large darkened wooden door closes them off from the relative safety of the house. Scrappy reaches up and grabs the ornate doorknocker. When the door opens………..

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Edited to switch image links from Whoosh's MSN group to a Photobucket album. Nothing else was tampered with. ~Mini-Mia

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Edited to switch image links from our Photobucket album to the Forum's Theme Storage. Nothing else was tampered with. ~Mini-Mia

[Joxcenia]

Joxcee, thinking that she had bumped into the lifesize statue of Aphrodite she had seen to her right just before shading her eyes, stood motionless for a brief moment to get her bearings before starting up the front path toward the entrance into the mansion. The wind seemed to be playing tricks on her ears, and for a frightful second she thought the statue was talking to her. Sheesh! Get a grip on yourself, you'll never last long here if you let your imagination get carried away like that. Joxcee pulled the hat down further over her eyes, keeping only her feet and the pathway in her sights as a guide to the front door. Just as she reached the front door it opened...

[guru]

...emitting a loud creak that was quickly followed by a sharp cry of pain. Guru threw off his headphones in shock, then tried to climb back into his skin as he felt eyes descending upon him.

"So much for first a impression," he cursed himself under his breath. Maybe an explanation would be in order.

"Sorry to startle you, but I had the volume turned way up. And when the door squealed and the meters pegged and my headset exploded... Oh, you're wondering about all this equipment! Recording gear -- enough to arm several teams of ghost hunters. My invitation included a directive to search for electronic voice phenomena or EVP's as we call them. These are good old-fashioned casette recorders. Ghosts don't seem to like digital for some reason."

Rambling on like an idiot usually has a disarming effect on people. Not this time. Because Guru was no longer the center of attention. Behind him as he spoke, along the far wall, in the darkest corner...

[Phalon]

...she emerged from the shadows, her flowing dark blue robe, the color of the starlit sky at midnight, stirring up dust bunnies and cobwebs as she crossed the room. A twinkling sound, like chimes in the wind, followed her, and it came from the various baubles, beads, and glass vials of potions attached to the belt cinching the robe at her waist.

She moved with purpose, crossing the room quickly towards the new intruders into the cold stone mansion. The flickering flames from the candles - the only light in the large grand foyer - were reflected in her green eyes, making them appear to glow with a fury better kept unleashed in this world.

Midway across the room, without losing stride, she pulled a cold steel blade from its scabbard on her back. She had sensed the danger, rather then saw it, and did not mean to greet these new comers unprepared....

Oh wait.... Where's Zena? Where's Bhen Rudha? Sumire and the others? Where's the bloody Romans?! And why are these people not speaking Greek?

Damn it to Tartarus. Wrong dreamscape again. She thought she was in the Zena Scrolls.

***poof***

The mystic vanishes.

[Joxcenia]

The howling winds screamed with fury, as Joxcee raced through the open door to get away from its wailing. Every inch of her flesh tingled from the tiny hairs raising up on end. She jumped when a male voice started blabbering behind her, and turned to see two figures just inside the doorway. One man and one woman. The man was loaded down with various gadgets & contraptions, and was droning on about what they could do when an icy chill filled the room. Joxcee turned toward the direction where the man was staring and saw a gypsy-teller woman come out of the shadows muttering to herself before suddenly disappearing.

"Oh my gosh!" cried out Joxcee. "Did you two just see what I saw?" She turned to the two people and saw the same dumbfounded look on their faces that they must in turn see on hers. "Did any of those..." Joxcee pointed toward the 'ghost-busting' objects the man had. "pick up anything?" She turned back to where the woman just disappeared. "Do you think it's a trick of some kind? I bet they'll do anything to keep from having to honor a winner." She nodded her head just to emphasize that she truly believed it wasn't real. As Joxcee turned to face the two behind her she saw a tall, matronly woman step out from behind the door, shutting it with a loud, "bam!" Everyone jumped except the woman. A thick braid encircled the woman's head like a halo, but that was the only angelic feature on this woman.

"Madam Joxcenia." the woman spoke in proper British English. "Mistress Le phoned to say she was running late, and for you to start the festivities without her." She clasped a wrist in each hand, as she sniffed the air quite loudly. "When do you think you will have your group meeting to explain what ever it is you're intending to do here for this next month?"

"Oh, umm..." Joxcee thought for a few seconds. "Perhaps after everyone has gotten settled in." She nodded her head as though to emphasize she had everything under control. "Yeppers... that'll work." Sheesh, I hope my room has its own bathroom, I'd sure hate to run into that sour old hag at night in a darkened hallway on my way to the 'loo'. Yikes!

"Very well then, you'll find each member's nametag on a table in the waiting room to your left. I'll check to see that the kitchen staff is busy preparing the evening meal." The woman unclasped her hands from her wrists and brushed away invisible creases from her skirt before starting down the hallway. As she passed Joxcee, she stopped briefly. "By the way, if you need me for anything, my name is Mrs. Peacock." With that said she turned and walked on without waiting for anyone to introduce themselves, or to even ask a query.

Joxcee stood motionless, her mouth agape, as she slowly turned toward the others. "Did... di... did you two just see her eyes? I swear they looked just like the iridescent orbs on a peacock's tailfeathers... just for a second, and then they were normal blue eyes again."

Joxcee stood there dumbfounded, staring from one to the other.

[Scrappy Amazon]

Scrappy entered the old house right behind the woman with the hat. The wind was howling so forcefully she couldn’t help but be shoved through the door, nearly running into her. Over her shoulder Scrappy spied a man loaded down with a lot of recording equipment. He began to explain but was interrupted by a commotion coming from a darkened corner.

A woman stepped out from the shadows. A ring of tiny bottles containing god knows what, making clinking noises, wrapped tightly to her belt. All eyes turned in unison as the ethereal woman drew a shining sword and advanced toward the group. Scrappy reached inside her trench coat and pulled out her 9mm. Aiming it directly at the sword wielding maniac, she started to pull the trigger when the apparition began mumbling then vanished as quickly as she had appeared.

She replaced the weapon in the hidden holster, and then removed her mirrored sunglasses revealing bright yellow eyes. Reaching up she ran her gloved hand through wind blown and slightly damp hair. “Well, guess that’s what we’re here for now isn’t it? I was hoping they’d let us at least get settled first. It must be true what they say; Time and Poltergeists wait for no man, or woman. You get any of that on that fancy equipment?”

She was about to say something equally as glib when a loud bang interrupted her thoughts. She turned to find a very stern looking woman staring them all down. Scrappy didn’t quite catch the whole conversation; she was mesmerized by those strange eyes. “Did you……….” She began to comment but Joxcenia beat her to it. “Yeah that was strange.” Shaking off the cold sweat that began to crawl up her back she turned back to Joxcenia. “So you must be the one running the show. So to speak. What’s next?” She waited for her to come back to the land of the living…………

[guru]

...where weather was the only thing making us shiver and jaws did not need to be collected from the floor. Scrappy, whose strong and determined jawline spoke of not spending much time on any floor, didn't have long to wait for a reply.

"Let's hang our wet things and grab our nametags. If somebody wants to jumpstart the party, we'll give them all the party they can handle!"

Guru switched out of technical investigator mode in time to witness the transformation. He thought, "That one went from vulnerable to formidable in the blink of an eye. And strong people working together are like a positive feedback loop. This had the makings of a first-rate team. No, wait -- we're supposed to be competitors. So do we compete to investigate that hologram? It must've been a hologram. But it didn't look like any hologram I've ever seen."

If nothing else it was certainly time to move away from the door. As a matter of professional thoroughness, Guru discreetly placed a wireless microphone on the mantle behind a curious black pot. Ancient. Worn. Curious. Why was it warm to the touch?

[Phalon]

"Huh?" She rubbed her eyes. "Must have dozed off", she muttered to herself. What an odd dream...a strange place, inhabited by strange people speaking a strange language. Ah well, she was used to having strange dreams, and pushed the remnants of this one to the back of her mind for now.

She leaned over to stir the pot of fish stew she'd been warming on the fire before she fell asleep. It was gone, pot and all! Oh, Zena was going to raise Tartarus when she got back, looking forward to a warm meal after a hard day battling pesky Romans.

[Joxcenia]

Joxcee found herself alone in the front entryway as the two others moved on into the waiting room. Apparently they were used to being in haunted surroundings, and the appearances of ghosts was just another everyday occurrence to them. Oh well... she wasn't here on a ghostbusting holiday like the rest of the whooshites, she had work to do and festivities to plan for. First on her agenda was to get her nametag and room key so that she could check out just where she was staying for the next month, and to make sure that her luggage was where it was supposed to be.

Sheesh! I would rather Le were here to MC the convention gatherings. Of course, I could always stall until she finally arrives, thought Joxcee, an evil gleam in her eyes.

[Scrappy Amazon]

Scrappy followed the “Techno Ghoster” into what Joxcenia had said was the waiting room. It looked like a well stocked library. The walls were lined with shelves containing hundreds of books. No paperback romance novels sullied the shelves of this library. Only the best leather bound collections, first editions, antique and rare copies. A treasure trove of knowledge and insight lay at her fingertips should she choose to browse. She ran her fingers over the spines reading the titles. ”Plato’s Critias, The Revelations of St. John the Divine, Demonologies by King James the First, The Book of Concealed Mystery, The Key of Solomon. I’ll definitely have to check these out later. There must be a quarter of a million dollars in this room. Whoever owned this house had expensive taste.”

Set up in front of another bookcase sat a long mahogany table. Placed neatly in stacks were guests name tags, room keys and folders with their names typed neatly on the front. Scrappy grabbed the pile that was labeled with her name then moved to the middle of the room. She removed her coat a draped it casually across a large overstuffed chair which she then proceeded to neatly fold herself into. Her chaps and boots creaked lightly as she crossed her legs and placed them on a low table in front of her. She crammed they key into the front pocket of her blue jeans pinned the nametag to her holster strap then began casually flipping through the contents of her folder. She was ostensibly looking for her room assignment but got distracted by a section containing a history of the house. “Hmmm, this is interesting…………..”

[Scrappy Amazon]

She continued to scan the history picking out bits of information about the house and filing them away for later use. I’ll have to go over this more thoroughly later. Finally she found the information she had originally been looking for, her room assignment. They had her sleeping in one of the tower rooms. Satisfied with her room situation, she looked up to see the Techno Ghoster looking for his stack of goodies. She watched casually as he pinned his name tag to his shirt. She couldn’t quite read it from where she was so she got up and approached him.

“Guru? Hi, I’m Scrappy. Nice to meet you.” She stuck out her still gloved hand and grasped his in a friendly shake. In an effort to break the ice she began reciting some of the things she learned from the file. “Hey, did you know this house wasn’t original to the property? The original house that was here was much smaller and was built as a love nest for the mistress of a wealthy coal mine owner. Apparently the wife found out and didn’t appreciate the little love affair, came over here, and burned the place down around them. Of course you will read all that I suspect in your little folder there. Maybe I should stop babbling now. So what brings you here, besides the invitation, to our little slice of God knows what?”

[Freebird]

Suddenly, a cold fierce wind brushed through the library. It was as if someone had touched each and every one of them. "Did anyone feel that?"Joxcee asked. Yeah, I felt that," came a voice from the doorway," It's been like that all day. The only room that doesn't have a draft is the bathroom. I heard that it's supposed to be the woman who died in that fire, but I don't believe it. As a matter of fact, I think ghosts are fake. When I get proof, then I'll believe it."
"Who are you?" Joxcee asked.
" My friends call me freebird. I'm never in the same place for long. Why are we here? It seems like some rich freak likes getting his kicks scaring people. I don't scare easily. I come home from spending four months in India on a spiritual quest, next thing I know some idiot knocks on my door, hands me an envelope And the only thing he said was 'Have fun, skeptic' ,and walked away. I was going to throw it away, but the plain envelope piqued my curiosity. I opened it and the only thing inside was an address and a time. I got here and it was just this stupid house. What's the deal, anyways? I get why you nuts are here. You believe in ghosts and that kind of crap. The only ghost I believe in is a spiritual one."
Then a cold wind came through, followed by an even colder laugh...

[Phalon]

She had no self-congratulatory notions about her culinary prowess. Her cooking abilities, or rather lack thereof, at times, turned even her own stomach. The pot of fish stew was one of those times. Why anyone would want to steal it was beyond her comprehension. Unless, of course, that person was starving, and then, she’d have to pity the poor sap in his choice of replenishing nourishment.

It could have been an animal, she supposed. But even an animal, with its keener sense of smell than a human’s, should have the sense to walk away from something as rank smelling as the stew.

Harpies then? Those winged bird-like creatures with women’s faces not only carried souls into Tartarus, but were thieves as well, often called “snatchers” and had been known to steal food.

But it wasn’t the food Phalon was worried about. The stew was most likely unpalatable – another of her cooking experiments gone awry. It was losing the pot containing the vile concoction that she fretted over. It was the only one they had left – the pot prior to this missing one being used as an improvised weapon which Red walloped over the skull of some rogue bandit threatening the camp. That pot had cracked, rendering it useless, much like the head of the bandit which it hit.

But this pot – the one missing – was different. Strong and indestructible. They cried out for a cauldron. It was iron – forged in the heat of battle…the power….No. Stop! That was something different. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs the strange dream of her visit to that strange place left behind. The dream had left her a bit disoriented and for an instant she wondered again what it meant.

That instant passed – there was no time to ponder senseless dreams. She had a pot to find. Drawing her sword from the scabbard on her back, she entered the forest following the putrid scent of fish, and wondered what she would encounter once she caught up with the source of the smell.

[guru]

Guru assumed the laugh would signal the entrance of another guest, so he waited before speaking. No one walked in. Awkward silence threatened to settle like a sudden fog. So if this wasn't the opportunity to learn where everyone stands...

"A mystery is a fact waiting to be exposed," Guru pontificated before remembering how many people were truly annoyed by his penchant for speaking in quotations. "And the supernatural represents the greatest mystery to be solved. Just imagine what it would mean to the world if someone had absolute proof ... one way or the other."

He observed as he spoke. An interesting mix of personalities. Time to get to work.

"Many people believe they have heard the voices of ghosts. So if the ear can detect these sounds, why not a microphone?" Several tape recorders were placed on the table. "The tapes in my hand are still in the wrapper. This is to guarantee being blank. If you care to help, take one and follow the simple rules."

This is the point where Guru expected to be interrupted by giggles or dismissals or (at the very least) an eighty decible eye roll. So he was pleasantly surprised when...

[Joxcenia]

Joxcee shivered as the room grew colder. I will never let Kym talk me into hosting a haunted mansion ever again for as long as I live. Provided I live through this, that is.

"Well Freebird, I'm Joxcenia... and I'm nuts all right," said Joxcee as she searched the table for her nametag and package. "I'm nuts for letting myself get roped into hosting this ghost hunting expedition." She pinned her "official hostess" nametag on. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm just the hostess, and I hope to avoid any further strange experiences from here on in, thank you very much."

Joxcee felt a cold wind blow through the room and looked out into the front room to see if someone had opened the door, but found it still closed. She heard laughter behind her and turned to see what was so funny, but the others were also looking to see who was laughing. The four of them stood still as they glanced about the room, which was eerily quiet until the techie guy started his babbling again. Sheesh! That guy is gonna have to start talking in layman's terms if he expects me to understand anything coming out of his mouth. Awwwww.... now recording ghost speak, I can understand.

"Okay... so what are the rules?" asked Joxcee as she eyed the recorders.

[Freebird]

everyone said that they'd help. Even freebird said she would help. As soon as the tapes started recording, the house was silent. Only when they stopped the tapes, did the eerie voices start. They experimented with this for a while. Everyone was mystified. They decided to leave off the recorders.
All of the cameras stayed on. The people counter suddenly went to 100. Then, they heard voices like a party was going on. Then the music started. It was like music from the 1920's.
Suddenly, a young ghostly woman floated past. She stopped and looked straight at ...

[Scrappy Amazon]

........Scrappy. The ethereal woman reached up to touch her face. When her hand was but a hairs breath away she began speaking. “You are strong. You must be the one to help her find it."
Scrappy pulled away slightly. The otherworldly cold emanating from the woman’s hand was making her shiver slightly. “Who do I have to help and what are we looking for?”

“She is waiting for you. She is searching, in the woods. She will tell you. You must find her.”

“Ok, but, where…..” Before Scrappy could get out her objections and questions the woman turned and headed toward…….

[Phalon]

...toward the unmistakable scent of that awful fish stew she went, following it deep into the forest. The forest grew denser, and to Phalon, decidedly more sinister. Soon even the light filtering through the canopy above diminished, leaving her to pick her way through the trees in darkness. Branches caught at her robe, seemingly wanting to grab her and hold her there, a prisoner in this dank woods forever. More then once she whirled around, expecting to see some unearthly being behind her.

Heinous laughter now filled her ears, surrounding her, beating at her from all sides. She turned in circles, her sword raised and ready to strike at an enemy she could not see. “Who are you!” she screamed. Laughter turned into an even more hideous screeching. It was the Harpies! All three of them, Aello, Celaen and Ocypete, by the sound of it. Come to torture her on the way to Tartarus? I’ll be damned if it’s my turn to go, she thought.

She ran blindly, swinging her sword in front of her, fighting the underbrush determined to trip her and bring her down. Twice she stumbled and regained her footing. The third time a gnarled tree root caught her foot and she fell –

down…

Splash!

The coldness of the water made her gasp, and with that intake of breath, a rush of water filled her mouth…her nostrils…The heavy material of her long robe, swirling around her legs…a roar filled her ears - filled her mind. Again, she was dragged…

down…

No! I’ll be damned if its my turn to go!

She kicked. She fought. She surfaced. She swam for an eternity. Small, rolling waves aided her journey, and she let them carry her to wherever was their destination. They deposited her on a small beach where she lay for a time, relieved that now there was something solid beneath her, but afraid to open her eyes and see where she was.

Finally, she did open her eyes, and found herself looking up toward a stone building looming on a bluff above her. Though light shone through the windows, it was not a particularly inviting sensation she felt staring at the house. Anything was better than what lay behind her though, and she started towards the bluff.

She stopped and paused for a moment before turning back towards the sea which almost took her. “I’ve won this time”, she said. “You’ve something that belongs to me...”

She reached her arm high above her head, palm open. "...And I want it back." She waited, but only for a moment. Then having received what was hers, she turned smiling and again started up the bluff, sheathing the sword as she walked. And who says the sea never gives up its dead?

[Freebird]

She walked toward the stone building. As she got closer, she could see that it was a cottage. It looked abandoned. She walked in to explore and noticed that it was quite warm inside. "Maybe it isn't as abandonded as I thought," she said,her voice echoing. Suddenly, a calming peace filled her. It felt like she was home, but that was impossible. She lived in Amphipolis. That was hours away, even by plane. Try as she might, she couldn't shake the feeling. She walked over to the bookcase and picked up a book. Or atleast she thought it was a book. What she saw inside would change her life forever. It was a picture of her, or more accurately someone who looked exactly like her. It was dated 1922. She put the picture album away and left. She walked back to the big mansion. During the whole walk she couldn't shake the picture. It was like looking at a 1920's version of herself. Could it be possible that it was her in a former life?

[Phalon]

Cresting the bluff, she paused to catch her breath. Walking up the sandy incline was no easy feat, especially in dripping wet clothing. Her robe felt as if it were made of lead, and the once rich fabric, now encrusted with salt from the sea water, was starting to stiffen in the cold night air... Breathing heavily from this night’s ordeal, she stood with one hand on her hip, the other absent-mindedly plucking strands of seaweed from her hair, and surveyed that around her.

In front of her stood the looming stone building she’d seen from the beach. It was even more massive from this perspective then from that down by the water. She assumed it to be a temple of some sort, as surely only a temple to a god would be this impressively large – but a temple to which god, she did not know.

As she contemplated which Olympian were worthy of such an elaborate place of worship, she watched the heavy front door open, and a woman slip out and into the night. Phalon tried to call out to her, but her throat was raw from the salt water and what little voice she had was carried away in the wind.

The woman walked down a path leading from the “temple” to a smaller, much simpler building. Servants’ quarters? Phalon hurried after the woman, wanting to ask her exactly where it was that the sea had dumped her. By the time she was close enough for the woman to hear her, she was already inside the door, leaving it slightly ajar. Phalon peered inside and saw the woman wander through the room, picking up items here and there and setting them down again after briefly examining them. She opened a book, and Phalon saw the woman’s eyes widen as she gazed at its contents. She stared at the pages for a moment, caught up in some faraway thought or another, then set the book down and headed back towards the door. Feeling like she was spying, Phalon backed away and waited on the path, still wanting to talk.

The woman exited the dwelling with a puzzled expression on her face, as if she didn’t quite understand whatever it was that was contained in the book. She rushed down the path, not even acknowledging Phalon’s presence, and if Phalon had not stepped back, she was sure the woman would have mowed her down. It was as if she didn’t even see her standing there.

“Hhmph”, Phalon muttered, feeling slighted and thinking the woman quite rude. Phalon’s mood had grown foul this night, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from spewing forth a retort that she would normally consider uncalled for.

Keeping a slight distance between them, she followed the woman back to the main building. Nearly catching up with her, she slipped her sword silently from its place on her back as they reached the door. The woman fumbled with keys, giving Phalon just enough time. Raising the blade high above her head, she stood ready - poised …now!.

The tip of the blade slid efficiently into its intended mark. She smiled. Evergreen would be proud, she mused. If she learned anything from her Amazon friend, it was how to enter or exit a place in stealth. She turned the heavy, ornately carved handle, releasing her sword from between the frame and the door where she’d slipped it just as it closed behind the woman entering before her. She was in.

If the outside of the building looked exceedingly ornate to Phalon, the inside was more so. Such furnishings as she’d never seen in her life! She wondered which one of the many rooms off the main entrance that the woman went.

She picked another clump of seaweed from her hair as she surveyed the rich mahogany colored doors, trying to decide which one to open first. Still dripping wet, water pooled at her feet on the marble floor. She reached up to wipe away a droplet that had fallen from her hair onto her forehead and realized how icy her skin felt. She was cold. So very cold.

[guru]

He was cold. So very cold. Ghosts have a way of doing that to you. And Guru was sure of what they had all witnessed. He reached into his mind for the compartment labeled "Scientific Process" and began inserting one fact after another.

All light waves travel in straight lines. Any image you see is a collection of waves traveling straight at you. A hologram is an image that must be projected via straight line path from an unobstructed point. How could our apparition float among people and furniture while maintaining visual integrity? It must be real.

Maybe this is the one. At long last.

After once again dusting off jaws collected from the floor, it was mutually agreed to adjourn for catch-as-catch-can refreshments and then reconvene a little later. Guru completed the task of finding his room and was rewarded with a pleasant surprise. Third floor, ocean view, breaking waves generating negative ions...very healthy. Aww shut up and just enjoy it, boy!

Exploration was refreshing, right? That's how he found himself headed back down the stairs toward the front door. Then the door opened. Then it closed. Then footsteps. Someone entered quickly enough to be out of sight by the time Guru got within sight of the door. Pursuit was not an option. Chasing people around this house would most likely be a scene right out of Scooby Doo. Or Benny Hill.

The front door opened again. "Good. I'll be at the bottom in time to greet..."

There was no time to prepare himself for what he saw. Suddenly the room filled with an overwhelming sensation of warmth -- of years melting away like so much thin ice. Every night he dreamed of this moment. Every day he rehearsed what to say. And in typical male fashion, when the time came, words failed him.

But really, folks... What does one say to the ghost of one's dead wife?

Standing in the dark along opposite walls accomplishes nothing. He resolved to close the distance -- as if it could close the real distance between them -- and hope she would know the right words. She always did in life.

Her long flowing robes rustled ever so slightly as she stepped into an area of better light. The light of harsh reality. This was someone else!

Mask your despair. That's what you always do. Show anything but weakness. "Pardon me for staring, but you look like someone I..." he managed before surrendering to the shaking in his hands. Those hands went to his face as he turned back to the stairs.

A head peeked around one doorway in response to the voice. Do we have a new arrival? No, just Guru. Joxcee muttered under her breath, "Yep, I knew it. Talks to himself." She did want to ask him about one tape recorder that was left running in the library, so she called out, "Hey, got a minute?"

If she thought him rude for not turning around, so be it. She didn't need to see his face. And besides...

...everyone knows men don't cry.

[Freebird]

She could tell by his shaky reply that he was upset. Her delimma was whether or not to ask him what was wrong. She might be a little insensitve, but she still had some compassion. She decided to go for it.
"Is there anything wrong?" she asked.
"No, this house is just getting to me. You know, making me see and hear things that aren't there. I'm okay. Thanks, though." Guru answered. "Did you need something?"
"Yeah. I was wondering why the tape recorder was still on in the library."
"Just wanted to test a theory of mine."
"And that would be?"

[Joxcenia]

Joxcee stared flabbergasted as the events unfolded. The techie guy with the gadgets checked and rechecked his various devices, his puzzled expression grew more and more exaggerated until Joxcee thought the whole situation comical. She threw a hand over her mouth and bit her lip to keep from laughing. Come on Joxcee... if they see you laughing they'll think this is a hoax... then again, Kym could very well be behind all of this. I certainly wouldn't tell me if I had fake hauntings set in place.

As quickly as it started, the haunting stopped, leaving everyone to their own thoughts and ideas. Then the others filed out of the room in search for whatever answers they were seeking, leaving Joxcee alone. Okay... get a grip. This is just Kym pulling a fast one... that's all. Yeppers... it's all Kym. Joxcee took in several slow deep breaths and let them back out again. She learned this technique from a yoga tape, and it did help ease the tension and stress. Okay... now do what Kym asked and leave the others to investigate the "hauntings"... just keep out of their way and totally ignore the weirdness.

Joxcee shook off her fear and scanned the clipboard to see who had arrived and who hadn't. Quite a number of guests had not shown up yet, but there were still a few more days left before the front gates would be closed to the latecomers. After that, no one was permitted to enter, and those who wanted to leave would be led out the back gate in the dark of night and sequestered at a villa until the convention was completely over.

A voice from the front entryway drew Joxcenia to take a peek and see if perhaps it was a newcomer. Nope... just Guru, talking to himself. Better make sure I don't get caught alone with that one after everyone's gone to bed, that's for sure. She remembered the tape recorder on the table that was still running. "Oh hey, got a minute?" Guess not. Oh well, she probably wouldn't have understood his technological babble anyway.

Joxcee again heard voices in the front entryway as she was heading across the waiting room to see if the door on the far wall lead to the kitchen. Sheesh, Guru is not only talking to himself, he's answering too.

[Scrappy Amazon]

Scrappy watched as the ghostly party faded then blinked out, as if they had never been there. But she knew better. She could still feel the cold electricity crawling over her skin, leftovers from so many visitors at once. She could smell the ozone as thick as molasses on hr tongue. That slightly burnt smell like lightning in summer. And there was something else, something slightly rank in the background. Was it fish? Yes it was a slight fish smell. “Wonder where that is coming from. Hope it’s not dinner.”

Scrappy agreed to the break and followed the rest out. She headed up the stairs toward her room. She only wanted to put some stuff away then go to the kitchen and check on dinner. She was getting mighty hungry. When she again headed down the stairs she saw Guru who was now very pale head for the library again. “Hmmm, wonder what’s up with him?”

Upon reaching the bottom of the steps the fish smell got stronger. She looked down and noticed puddles of water with clumps of seaweed on the floor. The puddles led out of the door which stood open. “Must be the wind and the rain.” She reached out to shut the door and felt a presence. Like a warm breath on the back of her neck. She could almost hear it speaking to her. “Opoios blepe eseis?” it said.

Scrappy dismissed the feeling and decided hunger was making her hallucinate. “Won’t do to start hearing things right off the bat, I need some food.” She turned to around to locate the door to the kitchen. She caught a glimpse of the black Iron pot. Her yellow eyes, an inheritance of her gypsy mother, allowed her to see the faint blue glow of the otherworldly energy surrounding it. The fish smell getting stronger the closer she got to the pot, almost overwhelming now.

“Well I guess this is where I start figuring some of this stuff out.” She removed her right glove, careful not to touch anything else, then reached toward the pot. As she reached for it she could feel the heat emanating from it almost as though it had just been removed from the fire.

As her fingers made contact the energy exchange began. That sick feeling she always got settled in the pit of her stomach. Soon she would begin to sweat and her knees would go all wobbly. Not a pleasant experience by any means but sometimes necessary. Her vision began to blur as she slipped into the “in between”. She turned back towards the door in order to lock her knees so she wouldn’t collapse. As she turned she heard it again. Only more forcefully this time. “Opoios blepe eseis!?”

Scrappy couldn’t understand her words but her stance said everything she needed to know. Sword drawn and pointed directly at Scrappy’s face. This woman was definitely getting on her nerves. Scrappy let go of the pot to pull her gun, knowing full well it wouldn’t help her if this being intended her harm, but the instant she let go the apparition once again disappeared.

“Shit!” Scrappy muttered to herself.

[Phalon]

She stood just inside the front door still, trying to decide what to do. She was cold. She was wet. And she had no idea where she was. Although….she did have a sense that she’d been here once before. It had an odd feeling of familiarity…ah yes - the dream. She was here in the dream she’d had right before she woke to find her pot missing. Strange…

The sound of footsteps descending the staircase across the large foyer area brought her out of her thoughts. Someone was coming and perhaps she’d finally be able to learn what this place was, and more importantly, how to get out of here.

She kept to the shadows near the doorway, not wanting to reveal herself just yet. Her hand tightened its grip on her sword, ready, should the person entering the room be less then the friendly sort.

A man reached the bottom of stairs. His manner of dress was strange to Phalon, not typical of the way men dressed where she was from. The sea must have carried her further away then she’d thought. She supposed too, she must look a bit odd, like something Poseidon dragged in, and in an attempt to make herself look more presentable, she flicked a wandering sea slug from her shoulder.

He noticed her across the room and she could tell from his expression that he was not threatening. His eyes - eyes were so revealing if you took the time to really look, a mirror into one’s soul – his eyes revealed…what? Anticipation? Fear? Hope? A longing for resolution? All of those things? He seemed hesitant, almost shaking.

Just a touch…a slight brush of her fingertips on his shoulder…and she would know. She took a small, tentative step further into the room, closer, and into the light.

Instantly, his expression changed…blue eyes clouding over, hope replaced by despair and sorrow. He mumbled something Phalon did not understand, buried his face in his hands and quickly turned and left. I hope you find whatever it is you’re searching for, she thought, and wondered what exactly, that thing was.

She didn’t wonder long though, for again, her thoughts were interrupted by someone else entering the room. A woman this time, dressed in nearly the same strange manner as the man. She came directly towards Phalon, and as with the other woman she’d encountered on the path outside, if Phalon hadn’t stepped out of the way, she would have been knocked down as the woman moved to shut the front door.

She was growing impatient, and the one last nerve she still had fairly intact was about to be snapped. She called out, “Opoios blepe eseis?” She was ignored once again as the woman started to leave the room. She paused midway, then stopped to examine something on the mantle, removing her glove to do so.

By the gods, it was her pot that the woman held in her hand!!! What in Zeus’ name had they done to it?! Her brand new, shiny black cooking pot looked as if it had been dragged halfway across the entire known world. “Arrrgh” This was the straw that broke the centaur’s back!

She angrily strode across the room with her sword extended. “Opoios blepe eseis?” she repeated, waving the sword in the woman’s face. “Who are you?” Icy fingertips covered her mouth before she could complete her next question, “and what are you doing with my pot?”

Before she was whisked away into the blackness, a cold, hollow voice whispered in her ear, “You are not of them now. You belong with us.”

[dixielandyankee]

"Crap, crap, crap", muttered the slim blonde woman as she killed the engine of her sleek gunmetal-grey car and scrabbled on the passenger seat for her 'invitation' and sunglasses. Not, she mused, that it was particularly sunny, in fact it was distinctly eerie and damp outside. "Why can't I ever be on time? It must be genetic...". She reached back into the snug space behind the driver's seat and pulled out her travel bag, releasing the catch on the door and easing herself out onto the driveway. She stretched and surveyed the looming house before her. "Nice", she grimaced making her way forward to wards the forbidding oak door. She knocked hopefully on the ancient wood and waited...and waited...deciding that whoever was hosting this shindig was obviously not going to help her out she grasped the enormous rusty handle and gave it a sharp twist. The door swung open, without the characteristic creaking you'd expect from a haunted house and Dixie stepped into the cavernous hallway beyond...

[Phalon]

"You are not of them now. You belong with us." Had she understood the language, she would have been horrified…she would have realized she was…

Dead. Silence. The icy hands belonging to the voice whispering in her ear pulled her into a void, a blackness where nothing moved – where nothing lived. She was irritated at being pulled here just as she may have been on the brink of learning something. What she’d seen when the woman held the pot was something she knew well - knees gone weak, eyes vacant as if the mind were gone. She’d experienced it herself nearly everyday of her adult life, ever since the Romans slaughtered her one true love – her only love…But she could not think about that now…could not afford to revisit the madness that followed that life altering event. She needed her wits about her if she were going to figure out how to get out of this damnable place.

Touching the pot, Phalon knew the woman was somewhere else…A mindtrip, a dreamscape, whatever term used, Phalon knew the woman, for a moment, was not actually standing there in front of her. Physically yes, but in her mind she was somewhere else. Back home, in Greece, (because she was sure she was not in Greece anymore), they called Phalon a seeress…a mystic…all because she could “see” into other’s lives with just a touch. If Phalon was right and this woman with the yellow eyes shared the same ability, than perhaps she’d be able to help Phalon get back home.

As all things seemed to be going this evening though, just when an opportunity arose, any chance to gather information was thwarted. But she wasn’t in the black chasm long, and as suddenly as she was pulled in, she was thrown back out again.

She found herself in a large room, longer than it was wide, with a highly polished wood floor, smooth and almost glass-like in appearance. Had she had the opportunity, she would have marveled at the huge beaded crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling - devoid of candles, but magically lighting the room anyway!!! Perhaps she would have tapped her foot to a strange music she could not know was called “jazz”, and even joined in the celebration.

If she considered the dress of Ole Blue Eyes and the Gloved One, (names she began to use in her head, referring to the man and woman she’d seen in the foyer), strange, than the dress of those inhabiting this place was even more odd. The women wore sleeveless dresses, very straight and angular and coming to just below the knee. The dresses were adorned with rows of fringes which swayed wildly as the women danced. Low v-necklines were accented by long strands of pearls that the women twirled in time with the music. They wore their hair short, slicked down, and with a curl on each side of their face. Their faces were painted – red lips, powdered skin and dark eyes. And their shoes!!! How impractical Phalon thought, and she imagined it would only take one step in them before she twisted her ankle and landed on the floor.

The clothing of the men was dark, either black or blue, and consisted of long pants and a kind of jacket which buttoned in the front, revealing a white shirt with a rolled collar underneath. Both the jacket and pants were slim fitting, but not tight. Their hair was worn similar to the women’s, slicked back but minus the curls.

She stood in the middle of this, out of time and out of place with her long, flowing robe and sword in hand. She was not the only one though, out of place. In the corner stood a woman, dressed differently than the dancers, looking lost and alone, and wanting to be anywhere than where she was. She did not have time to study the woman, because just as she noticed her, Phalon was pulled into the dance.

She was twirled around from behind, and passed across the room from dancer to dancer, whirling faster and faster, until everything became a blur but their faces leering at her, mouths twisted and distorted with the manic laughter resounding in her head. The macabre dance ended with her in the arms of a man, large and menacing. Vile, rank breath emitting the stink of alcohol was hot in her face.

“How nice of you to join our endless little party. We’ve been waiting for you, you know. Me in particular. Fresh blood, eh, so to speak, is always welcome.”

His words meant nothing to her, but she recognized a malevolent tone in them, and understood the lascivious look in his eyes. She broke free of his grasp, pushing him backwards away from her. He lunged towards her and instinctively she raised her sword, and found the man impaled on the end of it. She was horrified…she’d never intended to kill him however repugnant he was and lewd his intentions may have been.

But wait….there should have been resistance…there should have been the sickening sound of steel slicing through flesh…there should have been blood. There was none of this, and as Phalon looked from the point where her sword was embedded in his body, up towards his face, she saw that it was not twisted with pain, as it should have been, but was instead deformed in a demented grin.

She started to recoil, but he grabbed the hilt of her sword, holding his hands over hers tight, and pulled his body back and then again forward. Again, and again he rammed himself onto the blade of the sword, laughing louder and louder each thrust.

Finally, when she was mad with terror beyond reason, he released his grip on her, leaving her to crumple to the ground in a quivering heap.

Suddenly she was alone – completely alone, not only in the room, but in her mind as well. The room was hollow, only faint echoes of the music and insane laughter remaining. The heavy quietness was disturbed only by the sobs that racked her body.


“WHERE AM I?!” Her scream pierced through the realm of the dead and into that of the living.

[Joxcenia]

Joxcee wandered through the maze of hallways in search of the kitchen. Every doorknob she rattled was locked, and so she continued her wandering. She hadn't walked up any stairs, yet when she peered out a window she could see a stone cottage far down below. She was at least six stories up, or perhaps it was an optical illusion.

Joxcee jumped as a scream echoed through the hallways. Should I see what's wrong? Joxcee wondered, her fear urging her to run and hide.

[Scrappy Amazon]

Scrappy was about to make another attempt on the pot when the front door flew open again nearly hitting her. She was ready for just about anything at this point. In walked another guest. Slim blonde and slightly disheveled. She looked as though she was in a terrible hurry. Scrappy was about to introduce herself when she heard a scream. It came from one of the other doorways connected to the hallway. Scrappy turned to the blonde and said, “Uh I think that’s for me. I wish I had time to explain and make proper introductions.” She laid on her best grin at this point. “Everyone else is in there,” she indicated the Library, “I think. Why don’t you go in and introduce yourself.”

Scrappy didn’t wait for an answer. The level of emotion conveyed through the scream was terrifying. She knew she had to do something quick. She removed her other glove and grabbed hold of the pot with both hands. This time the energy exchange was immediate and complete. She dropped to her knees as though she had just touched a hot wired fence. Clutching the pot to her chest she threw her head back and let it happen. She felt herself let go and release from her body. As she stood, now fully in the “in between” she saw her body still kneeling and clutching the pot.