Haunted House Tales

by Riley Amitrani

  As a trade for his efforts in finance for the institute, James was allowed to work closely with a few of the investigators there as they explored old houses, businesses, and hotels that were reported to be haunted. The experiences intrigued James more and more and he was soon found to have a natural proclivity for the research that made one of the primary investigators find a place for him on his team. By his own admission, the transformation in his career had caught James by surprise. He was thrilled. His parents…well, not so much. He had never liked finance. It had paid well, and had made his parents happy at the time, but it was making him miserable. He finally felt as if he had found his calling.

  James was thin and gangly, his height often a liability as he went with investigative teams into spaces where, due to the age of the structures, required him to contort his frame uncomfortably. He was, though, possessed of a keen mind and intuition which made him highly valuable to his primary team members. The interest in the paranormal had been quietly bubbling for years in England, and it finally burst on the scene more fully in the US with the advent of the popularity of cable television programming. America was loaded with opportunities for such things, and a few of the more enterprising and well-heeled organizations saw the allure and draw that locations possessing the age of buildings in Europe might offer.

  The Swindon Laboratory had good connections between some of the television industries overseas as well as a founder with seemingly bottomless pockets. They were always in great demand when an American producer wanted to add some knowledgeable local flavor to a show based on a British location. James’ timing was perfect. The synchronicity of all of this as well as his conversion from financial analyst to paranormal researcher served him well. As it had Antony and Natalie. The influx of cash from the partnerships that had been forged between the American television networks and the Swindon Laboratory had given James the opportunity to come to the States for an 18-month internship to learn more of the high technology-based techniques that were being employed abroad. He had met Antony and Natalie at one of the workshops that was being held in Chicago one summer. They began to talk over drinks one evening following an all-day event. They each had experiences that the other had not, and they talked long into the night finding themselves at once comfortable both professionally and personally.

  The trio had stayed in close contact ever since and Antony had never forgotten the invitation that James had offered to them.

  “If you are ever across the pond…please look me up. It would be wonderful to see you again.”

  When Natalie had been given the lead on the Woodchester Mansion, she immediately remembered James and his kind offer. Once he heard they were coming, James offered to meet them at Heathrow and ferry them around. Natalie thought back to the conversations they had with James as they considered going to take a look at the Woodchester Mansion.

  “They owe me some time off anyway. I’d love to show you around. And as the fates would have it, I have been doing some tours of the Woodchester on the side just to supplement my income. It is quite the tourist attraction, as I am sure you know, and having an actual professional ‘paranormal ghost hunter’ on staff lends them extra credibility.”

  Both Antony and Natalie had laughed with James as he used over-exaggerated air quotes when he spoke of the title with them on Skype.

  “So…” Antony asked, “Is all that we read about this place for real? Or just some tourist marketing thing?”

  “Oh, it’s the real deal,” James replied. “I have gotten to know the place in and out since I took this side job. I have seen things and heard of things that have made me a true believer. Most of the tours have been pretty cut and dried, but when I have been poking around on my own, after hours? The place is definitely for real, my friends.”

  “The sightings go back to…what did they tell us, Natalie, the mid-1800s?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s true. It’s all in the spiel I give during the tours.”

  “And that bit about the soldiers in the 1940s? That happened?”

  “It did. That is when the activity at the mansion really heated up. And here is the best part. The mansion, as part of an agreement I was able to wrangle due to my status? They have agreed to let you have free and unfettered access to the mansion for a few days. No tours. No guides. Just the two of you and whatever you feel is needed to do an investigation. That is if you still want to come?”

  “Are you serious, James?”

  “I am. My so-called expertise has given the place a new aura of intrigue and interest from the general public. The mansion is making tons of money on this. I told them I had an American media company interested in featuring the mansion in one of their shows there, so they gave me permission?”

  “Who do they think we are, James, some major network outfit?”

  “All I told them was what I just said to you now. What they inferred is on them. My guess if they are salivating over being featured on American television.”

  “This is incredible, James!”

  “My wedding gift to you. My pleasure. When might I expect you?”

  Woodchester Mansion

  London, UK, 2017

  James was just as they had remembered him, though he looked even thinner than Natalie recalled, though with James’ slight build that seemed impossible. He had, based on Antony’s information, arrived at the curb with a van that would easily accommodate all their gear as well as personal luggage. James shook hands with Antony and hugged Natalie, offering his deepest congratulations on their recent marriage. He slammed the rear door of the vehicle and got behind the wheel as Antony joined him up front and Natalie slid into the rear seat. James shot into the maze of traffic departing from the airport and Antony realized at once what a Godsend it was to have James at their disposal.

  Not only had he gotten them special private access to the Woodchester, but he had vastly underestimated the insanity of the traffic here in London. Not only was it infinitely more maddening than anything he had ever driven in but he realized at once that he would have been paralyzed by the adjustment required by driving on the opposite side of the road. Natalie leaned forward in her seat as the three of them talked while James navigated expertly through the congestion with what looked like a coveted skill to both of them.

  “The traffic always like this?” Natalie asked, as she found herself flinching at the quick reactions required as they moved along. Like Antony, she had grown accustomed to the relatively sedate volume of cars in the Midwest. This seemed like organized chaos.

  “Oh…this is about average, I guess.”

  “We were in such a rush to get here and get started once you offered,” Antony said, “I completely blocked out the driving issues.”

  “Yeah. It can be tough on Americans if they try and rent a car, especially getting out of London. I have a friend that went to New Zealand once and met this kayak guide there. They still adhere to the same driving regulations as we have here. He told my friend that his greatest fear was to be on one of the backroads on a blind curve and meet an American tourist driving himself. When you have to make a quick correction, it is just a reaction to revert to your instincts, so both drivers would end up smashing into each other head first while trying to avoid a collision.”

  “I can see that. Thanks again for setting this up and for the chauffeuring.”

  They drove on just talking casually as they caught up each other on their lives since they had last seen each other. James was full of questions about the wedding and Natalie was more than happy to relive the day by answering all his inquiries. They learned as they finally got away from the center of London and out on the M25 and then the M4, that James was still blissfully single.

  “Think I am too focused on my work. Also, a bit too odd in my interests for anyone to tolerate me.”

  Antony glanced back at Natalie and they exchanged a sly smile. They knew exactly what James was referring to in his “odd” comment. They knew well from the circles the
y ran in that the people doing this work, in general, were a tad eccentric to say the least. They felt lucky they had found each other early on while in school before launching the business. They knew how consumed they themselves had become with all the demands and thought it unlikely they would have become a couple otherwise. As well, James was another step of “eccentric” beyond that even. They loved him dearly, but he was unique in his mannerisms and personality for sure.

  As they reached Swindon, James got off the road and stopped by his place of employment so that Antony and Natalie could get a sense of where he worked and what the institute did.

  “You had mentioned you wanted to see the place, and it’s on our way to the mansion anyway.”

  Antony was not sure what he had been expecting, but the institute itself was very unimposing and bland looking. The building itself could have been any of a thousand identical places in a thousand towns he supposed. It was a day where most of the employees were off, so it was pretty empty as James gave them the tour. He picked up a small case from his office and then had them back on the M4 as they drove closer to St. Briavels and the Woodchester Mansion. As they passed Chippenham and approached Bristol, James went through the history of the mansion, giving them much the same sort of presentation that he offered to tourists.

  Some of what James told them seemed to be news to Antony, but as she had spent much more time looking over all the files on the mansion, Natalie just sat back and relaxed as she listened to what was mostly a rehash of what was in her head already.

  “I know all the stories well. However, I must say that personally my first-hand experience with actual sightings is pretty limited.”

  “Like?” Natalie asked as she leaned up again.

  “Oh…lots of black shadows out of the corner of my eye that seem to have no source of light causing them. A few objects moving seemingly on their own. That type of thing. Wish I could offer more, but I am afraid what I have seen, though definitely leaving me no doubt as to the presence of spirits here, is pretty benign and boring.”

  “How about others? Tourists? Other mansion employees? They see anything more?”

  “From time to time. I have had visitors tell me they have spotted ‘floating heads’ behind them in one of the restrooms as they looked into the mirror. Not so sure about those. A lot of times I think our visitors just want to feel a part of the experience. Not saying they are lying exactly, but let’s say we have had more than a few imaginations run wild here.”

  “Yeah…” Natalie added, “we get that a lot at home. Anything else?”

  “Oh, yeah…over the years we get regular reports of people swearing they can hear bits and pieces of music from the 1940s. Big band stuff, like from World War II, you know?”

  “You ever?” Antony asked.

  “Nope. Not me.”

  Natalie thought of the story from the British soldiers again and felt another shiver run up her spine. She stretched to shake it away and pushed the feeling away.

  “Oh, yeah…and just last week we had this woman who swore she saw this little girl standing at the top of a flight of stairs.”

  “Just standing there?”

  “So she said. She could not really give anyone a clear idea of what she looked like or even what time period she might have been from if it even did occur.”

  “More imagination you think?”

  “Hard to say. Like I said before, I would not go so far as to say people are lying for the sake of lying. I think they just get all revved up coming here. They have read up on the history of the Woodchester. They just want so badly to see something in what is a reputed haunted house, you know? Nothing better than going home with an honest-to-God ghost story for your friends.”

  “But nothing verified in any of this?”

  “Not really. Before myself or anyone at the Swindon would back this type of thing, we would want real tangible, solid evidence.”

  “Doesn’t your organization have gear to go in and take a look around for evidence of these reports?”

  “Sure. Just like all the stuff you have hauled over here from Iowa. But so far, we have come up empty.”

  “So, part of this is in hopes we can provide you some proof as well?”

  “It is. Please don’t think I was trying to use you. We were just getting nothing and my boss thought maybe a fresh set of trained eyes and ears might be better…that’s all.”

  “No problem, James. What you are doing for us is phenomenal. We’d be more than happy to share anything we uncover. Just give us first crack at it back home with a proposal to a TV network? Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough.”

  With that, James brought the van to a stop as he pulled up to the front of the mansion. They all stopped talking at once as James let them take in the Woodchester for themselves. He realized that although to those of them who lived here, the mansion was not all that eye-catching, to visitors it often was a different experience. James saw this everyday he led tours for people not from Europe. He waited for a few moments while Antony and Natalie looked upon it.

  “Not exactly the House of Usher, eh kids?” James said quietly, referring to the stately and macabre house in the Edgar Allen Poe story.

  Natalie and Antony chuckled at the comment, as they both realized that James was right. They had seen all the photos of the place…even a few videos. But seeing it in person was different. It was definitely way older than anything they had looked into before, and with a vastly more extensive and rich history. But it was also definitely just an average looking old home, albeit large and imposing to some degree. Despite this, Natalie felt her mouth go dry. What was it about this place that was giving her the willies?

  They exited the van and James helped Antony move all their gear into the foyer. He gave them a quick run through of the building just so they could get a rough orientation of the old mansion. They returned to the foyer and James checked to see if they needed anything more from him.

  “If there is nothing else, here are the keys. It’s all yours for a few days. Take your time. Call me if you need anything. Otherwise I’ll see you the day after tomorrow. Good luck.”

  They walked to the front entrance and waved goodbye to James as he drove off. The silence of the mansion seemed overwhelming as Antony and Natalie stared at each other.

  “Should we get to work?” Antony asked, breaking the eerie silence that had fallen over them once James had driven away.

  Natalie just nodded, now finding it harder and harder to push away the recurring feeling she was getting that this place was way more than they might be ready for.

  Manifestations

  St. Briavels, Gloucestershire, UK, 2017

  Antony shut the huge front door and it closed with a solid thunk that seemed to echo down the front hall before finally fading away in some side room somewhere along the expansive corridor. Antony could not help looking around in awe as he joined Natalie as she admired the beautiful architecture of the still unfinished mansion. While the outside of the mansion might not look like anything special, they could not deny that the interior was seriously impressive. The attention to detail and skillful craftmanship that had been employed over the years inside were breathtaking, despite it just being a partially completed project.

  They wandered around a bit looking more closely at a few of the rooms on the first floor to get a better feel for the place beyond what James had hastily shown them already. The more they looked and walked and examined each new space, the less intimidating and potentially frightening the mansion felt. Initially, Natalie felt her heart beat faster as her steps echoed eerily off the walls and high ceilings, but after a few minutes she calmed down and soon was feeling more and more at ease. There was still a small ball of anxiety clenched in her stomach, but she knew this was typical for her at the start of all their investigations, and she pushed it away as best she could.

  Antony led her back through the main corridor and they stood together in the foyer again as sunlight from a huge
stained-glass window bathed them in a myriad of colors. It was a warm and welcoming sensation which Antony took as a good omen. He finally shook off his fascination with the expansive interior, remembering why they had come.

  “Quite a place, huh?” Natalie asked as she looked up at the refracted light of the sun as it painted her face.

  “It is. The photos and videos sure do not do it justice.”

  “With all the failed attempts over the years to finish the construction, it sure seems like there must be something going on here. Not just the old story of owners running out of money.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. Ready to get started?”

  Natalie smiled and nodded. They walked to the mound of cases that they had brought with them and began to unpack and organize all the equipment. Natalie got all the devices and other materials set up so Antony could do a quick check on the electronics and other technical details to make sure all had survived the long flight intact and were all operational. As she worked, Natalie was still fighting off the fatigue from all the travel, but the excitement of a new investigation helped to tamp down her exhaustion.

  They had stopped along the way to fill a thermos with coffee which Natalie had been availing herself of liberally in hopes that the caffeine would help snap her out of her sluggishness. It was of some assistance as she was beginning to feel more energized, but knew it was likely to be only temporary knowing her own body well. The down side was she was now in desperate need of a bathroom. She knew everyday interruptions in their work like this annoyed Antony to no end, but she had no choice.

  “I’ll be right back,” Natalie said as she laid out the last of the equipment in the foyer. “All that coffee…”

  She did her best to ignore the exasperated glare that Antony shot her way as she trotted off in search of a bathroom. She loved him dearly, but it was little things like this that got under her skin. She was sure all couples went through these types of little annoyances with idiosyncrasies in behavior, but this time it was poking at her feelings more so than usual. She blew out a breath in irritation and hurried along chalking up her overly sensitive reaction to her fatigue and lack of adequate rest.