They stepped out of the van and into the growing breeze as the rising moon gave off an intermittent illumination of the grounds as clouds moved across its face with the wind. They closed the doors behind them quietly and walked slowly toward the stone edifice. As much as it had ruffled her feathers, Sabrina had to admit that her partners’ comparison to the old Poe tale had some validity. At least in comparison to the illustrations she had seen accompanying the story and in film adaptations of the story. It was a tall and imposing thing with large blocky gray stones making up the exterior. The stones were crawling with vines, some of which were long dead and some just beginning to gain a foothold. All that was missing, Sabrina thought, was a guest appearance by Vincent Price.
It was, Sabrina thought, no wonder the old place had the reputation it did, even without the legend of Corrie, the slave, and Charles Wilder, the alleged resident ghost courtesy of his wife seeking revenge for his promiscuous nature while still alive. The inside was dark and gloomy from what she could see, but based on its age and lack of current residency—the mansion was at present just a tourist destination for the paranormal-curious, or so she had read—that was no surprise. As they grew closer, the moon emerged from a small bank of passing clouds to reveal a hunched figure on the front steps that led into the mansion.
Sabrina did not initially spot the figure until Josh reached out and put one hand on her shoulder as well as the other on Wendy’s arm. They stopped suddenly and looked at him, their brows furrowed as to why he had done that. He raised his right arm and just pointed toward the steps without saying anything. Both women gasped lightly as they finally spotted what Josh had seen immediately. The figure did not move, nor was anything spoken. The loose clothing blew in ripples from the solid form, but it was almost like it was not real…at least to Josh.
“Maybe I am wrong, guys…” Josh whispered into the wind, “but I think we have spotted our first real ghost…”
Welcome to Daucourt Mansion
St. Francisville, Louisiana
December 7, 2015
They stood where they were and waited, but the image or specter or whatever it was that was currently residing on the cracked and uneven steps of the mansion remained motionless. Josh felt as if he was not breathing anymore as his pulse pounded in his ears as he looked on with a feeling of trying to make his logical brain believe what his eyes were seeing.
“Wendy…” Sabrina whispered sideways, “can you ease back to the van and get that camera that picks up stuff in the dark where there is little to no light?”
Wendy just nodded silently and began to step backward as unobtrusively as possible when the figure stood, causing her to freeze in her steps. In just a few moments, the trio discovered that the figure on the steps was not a ghost, as Josh had suggested, but just an old woman in tattered and flimsy garments that were whipping around her diminutive and thin frame in the wind. Josh was relieved on the one hand to see that this was not a ghostly entity, but on the other hand, her presence here as she began to approach them was not making him feel any more at ease. The woman came forward a few steps, the wizened and weather-worn skin of her face still partly shrouded by a dark hood that came up under the fragmented shards of clothing that were still blowing with the passing breezes.
The team stood still as she approached, still not quite sure who she could possibly be or why she might be here at this moment. All they knew for sure was that she was flesh and blood and not some otherworldly entity. Her steps were halting and staggered as if she were disabled, but in the end, they could tell it was just her age. She pushed back her hood, revealing a visage that to all of them left her age indeterminate. Sabrina thought the woman could be ancient or just as likely not so old, but looking as if that was the case if in poor health. She was short and thin with flowing white hair that also began to fly wildly about her face in the wind.
They stood unmoving as the woman approached them and offered a tight but pleasant smile. She did not move her hands from the sleeves of her garments but came to Sabrina and spoke quietly.
“Sabrina Duncan and company, I presume?”
“Um…yes. And you are?”
“Sorry. How rude of me. Glory Trevil. I believe your Wendy Newton is familiar with me.”
The witch…Sabrina thought to herself as she relaxed a bit.
“How did you…” Sabrina began, but stopped when Glory held up an emaciated and well-veined hand and arm to stop her.
“Just my business to know, Miss Duncan. Besides…who else in their right minds would be coming around this place…this house of sorrow in the night?”
“Can we…” Josh began, but again, the arm appeared cutting him off.
“Just wanted to be here when you arrived. To introduce myself. And I will take my leave now. I am sure you have work to do.”
“Don’t you want to be here when we find out anything?” Sabrina asked.
The old woman emitted a low cackle of laughter that chilled Sabrina and at the same time intrigued her. The chortle was filled with the sound of seriously congested lungs or perhaps damage from a lifetime of smoking. It was the same sound that her own father had owned just prior to his death from lung cancer when she was just a teenager.
“Not necessary, Miss Sabrina. I will leave you to your work. I’ll know when the time is right for me to be here. And please accept my apologies for startling any of you. I meant no harm.”
And with that, Glory Trevil shuffled past them and disappeared down the dirt path behind where they had parked the van. They all looked at one another in utter astonishment and bewilderment.
“I hate to be repetitive,” Josh finally said, “but…everyone saw that, right?”
……….
Shaking her head after Glory’s departure, Sabrina motioned for them to follow her and they began to unload the van and set up the equipment so they could get some exterior shots of the place to initiate their investigation. The gloom of the evening with the mansion as a backdrop seemed to be the perfect setting for Sabrina to narrate the background information on Daucourt Mansion and its somewhat ignominious reputation. The offset lighting that Wendy had set up gave the old mansion just the atmosphere that Sabrina had in mind when they had discussed it back in Indiana, and the wind was making the look around her as she spoke perfect for creating the ideal creepy and spooky image that she wanted to portray.
Josh’s script was intriguing and informative, and Sabrina played it up to the hilt. She led in with the overall history of the mansion to set the stage and then, following Josh’s great segue way on paper, she moved into the highlights of both Corrie, the so-called jealous lover of Charles Wilder and how he had come to meet his demise at the hands of yet another jealous lover, his wife, Suzanne. Sabrina then introduced Glory Trevil, the local seer and psychic, who was to work with them to rid this land of the two reluctant ghosts once and for all. She was careful not to use the epithet “witch” when referring to Glory on camera, even though Glory herself preferred that title. Sabrina wanted to make this offering as professional and respectable as possible, considering the subject matter, and she knew for sure that if she had used that term that it would have reduced the story to another B-grade piece of schlock…and the internet, she knew was full to the brim with these at the moment. This was to be her masterpiece…
They stopped the filming to move inside, and Sabrina poked around while Josh and Wendy reconfigured the set for interior work. Just as they had imagined, the inside of the mansion was just as creepy and eerie as the exterior. As her light panned over the hallways and empty rooms of the large house, Sabrina imagined what a splendorous showplace the mansion must have been in its prime. She heard Josh’s voice call to her from the foyer, letting her know they were ready to start. Sabrina returned to the foyer where she launched into all the details of the ghosts of Corrie and Charles Wilder as Wendy followed her with the mobile camera as she walked about the lower level speaking as she went. Josh’s script was so well crafted that it was actu
ally giving Sabrina chills as she told the intimate details of the mansion’s ancient inhabitants.
If she had allowed herself the luxury of it, Sabrina knew she could be sucked into the story she was telling. The gloom and dark corners of the lower level of the house were adding perfectly to her presentation as Sabrina wrapped up this portion of the filming with the only questionable phrase she could not resist:
“…and we may indeed be the next victims…”
It was hackneyed and puerile, but she also knew it would bring in viewers. Despite her own tastes, Sabrina had learned over the years what mattered to the general public. She paused with dramatic effect as Wendy slowly and carefully dimmed the lights that had been making Sabrina visible to the camera.
“OK!” Sabrina shouted from the dark, “Cut!”
Wendy did as instructed and then brought up some area lights as Sabrina rejoined them in the foyer.
“Well? What did you think?” she asked as Wendy swapped out for some new equipment and immediately continued filming.
Wendy gave a double thumbs up and smiled as she mimed a fake shiver of fear.
“Killer piece, Sabrina!” Josh said as he moved to her and kissed her.
“Let’s keep moving, boss,” Wendy offered, “when you are in the zone like this, it’s wise not to break the rhythm.
Sabrina nodded and made a silent gesture of appreciation at Wendy’s compliment. However, just then the front door slammed, and their lights quavered. It was not a big flicker in the illumination, but still perceptible to all three of them. Wendy stopped filming.
“You set that up with Glory by any chance, Wendy?” Sabrina asked as she felt her pulse quicken at the sudden unexpected events.
“Not me. Josh?” Wendy replied.
Josh just shook his head no as another wave of anxiety about the mansion rippled through his body.
“I thought maybe you had planned this for dramatic effect. Maybe she came in and did that?”
“Nope. Just the three…well two of us…” Wendy replied, noticing that Josh had departed to the front of the house.
He came back ashen-faced looking like nothing Sabrina had ever seen in him before.
“Josh?” she asked as he stood unmoving in the filming lights.
“Um..well…I suppose if you wanted the real thing, we may have just pushed the button to make that happen.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“When the door slammed, and the lights flickered just now?”
Both Wendy and Sabrina nodded.
“I went back there. The door is jammed shut.”
“Probably the wind from outside.” Sabrina offered.
“That’s what I thought, too. So I tried the windows.”
“And?”
“Locked tight and even when I disengaged the latches, they remained firm in place. And before you have a logical response to this, I even tried just breaking the glass with some heavy objects in the hallway. They just bounced off the glass like they were made of concrete.”
“Are they glass?”
“Felt like it to me. Why?”
“Well…if this place is attracting as many lookie-loos as I imagine it might, I would propose that the managers of it have done everything possible to prevent break-ins.”
“Maybe…maybe…”
“So you’re thinking the ghosts are pissed we are here filming and perhaps making light of their situation? That we have engaged a partnership with a ‘witch’ to clear them out?”
“No need to be snotty, Sabrina. I’m just telling you what I found, and as easily as the door opened for us, I am not sure your rational explanations fit the bill is all.”
“Sorry…sorry…that was uncalled for. I apologize.”
Wendy had seen this dynamic play out before between the two of them, and she did as always: stepped back and pretended to be busy with gear until the spat resolved itself. It always did…
Sabrina was now finding herself more concerned as well. Perhaps not to the degree that Josh and Wendy were, but for the first time since coming to St. Francisville, she could honestly say she was getting…well, maybe not scared…but at least unnerved by it all.
“Well, gang…we seem to be stuck for the moment. Unless there are serious objections, I say we continue filming elsewhere in the house and look around for more material to add to the story.”
Wendy shrugged.
“Why not?” Josh added, though he was sure it was not the best idea Sabrina had ever had.
There Might Be More!
St. Francisville, Louisiana
December 7, 2015
As they moved about the house, taking a generic look around, Wendy fired up her infrared camera that was good in low light just in case they picked up something of interest along the way that could be used where dialogue was not being overlaid live. Despite the mansion still being a tourist draw and being kept up to some degree of respectability from a superficial appearance perspective, Sabrina, Josh, and Wendy were still creeped out by the overall gloomy and spooky vibe the place gave off as they wandered the dark hallways and peered into the side rooms that branched off the corridors.
Wendy continued her vigilance in filming at random, but as they neared their circuit of a cursory tour through the lower level, nothing of anything paranormal-related was going on. However, just as they were returning to the foyer to move upstairs to take a look there, a violent clap of thunder struck and without warning torrents of rain began to lash at the windows and roof of the old estate. A sudden flash of lightning right on the heels of the thunder make then all jump in their skin and then chuckle together at how stereotypical their response to a simple rainstorm had been.
“Hope you were not filming that one, Wendy…” Josh said as he shook his head in embarrassment.
“And after all the times we ridiculed and poked fun at all those cheap horror movies…” Sabrina added.
They plodded along as the storm continued to rage. It was not an unusual event in the area, but to the team, it was not anything like they had ever seen in Indiana. They were approaching the last room of the twin corridors before moving back to the foyer, when the door to the room suddenly flew open and banged against the wall with a loud clatter. The abrupt racket and unexpected movement made them all freeze in place as Sabrina gasped in surprise.
“No need to ask, boss…” Wendy whispered, “I did get that one on film…”
“Want to explain that one, Sabrina?” Josh uttered as his intuition over coming here being a bad idea resurfaced.
“Give it a rest, OK?” Sabrina shot back, her tone making him know how annoying his anxiety was to her.
“So, now what?” Wendy asked as she lowered the camera and looked at Sabrina.
The house had gone quiet again following the movement of the door as it just waggled slightly back and forth on weak and rusty hinges. Sabrina paused and thought. Deep down, she was beginning to share some of Josh’s concerns, but since she was leading this little expedition, she pushed them away and decided to push on.
“Whatever it was, it seems to be over,” Sabrina said. “If we have somehow stumbled onto some sort of entity here—thus the door—then I guess maybe it is an invitation. And if not…I say we take a look anyway—it’s the only room we have not poked into yet.”
She looked at the two of them and got reluctant but affirmative responses from head nods. With Sabrina in the lead and Wendy illuminating their progress as they moved slowly step by step, they edged toward the room and stepped inside. As Wendy panned the interior of the medium-sized space, it became obvious that it had originally been set up as a child’s playroom. Apparently, to keep the atmosphere alive from when Charles Wilder and his wife Suzanne had lived here, the room was filled with items that must have belonged to one or more or their children. There were old rocking horses, chests that from their painted exterior looked to be storage bins for toys, and small furniture here and there that could only accommodate the small bodies of
children.
The furniture and walls and other items around and about had been rehabbed, seemingly to prevent a complete degradation of their integrity, but the TLC had also been designed to recapture the original designs. They were well-dated from the period in design, but still attractive and interesting in the modern day. As they all followed Wendy’s slow path of light as she continued filming, the room seemed utterly inconsequential and of no more interest—at least for their project—as any of the others in which they had ventured. Sabrina furrowed her brow as she now wondered why the door had been flung open. If it had been some entity here that wanted them to come inside and have a look see, then why?
There seemed to be nothing here but an old playroom. Perhaps of historical interest, but hardly anything that would pique the curiosity of even the most dedicated paranormal geek. She was about to suggest they move on to the upper level when the light from Wendy’s camera flashed on the wall off to the right which they had passed without being able to see when they had come in. But when her light hit that wall, everything changed. In a sketchy and scrawled script flowing across the wall, just above an old and dusty crib, in what looked like fresh red paint was:
Bastard Child
Sabrina had no idea how her partners felt at this moment, but for her, she felt as if the room had just plunged in temperature as her skin prickled with goosebumps and an icy shiver rippled up her spine. But the ambient temperature had not changed. It was just her. They all just stared and listened to their respirations accelerate as all else they could hear were their pulses pounding in their ears, just audible over the storm outside.
“What the hell?” Josh uttered.
“Is that fresh paint?” Wendy asked.
From the glistening nature of the script as it shimmered in the reflection of the camera’s light, it was definitely fresh. Maybe not last-minute fresh, but certainly not as aged as the rest of the room—not even close. As if moving without conscious control, Sabrina moved closer and dabbed her finger in the message. She looked at her hand and the frigid feeling she had previously just magnified itself.
Haunted House Tales Page 114