A Stroll in a Haunted Mansion

By Anoushrayan Deysarkar

Fantasy

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“So, what are we doing here, exactly?”

The question came from Ronald, and was meant for Arctus, the gaudily dressed man who insisted he was a Master-grade wizard and not a hobo. Ronald had had a rather unfortunate run-in with a pack of hell-hounds a few months ago, and Arctus had saved him. Since then, he had stuck around with him – they had rented an apartment together, and Ronald was helping Arctus learn the intricacies of normal human society – in other words, teaching Arctus not to threaten street performers. In return, Arctus had started teaching Ronald a few cantrips. According to Arctus, magic was accessible to everyone, but only some people trained enough to really use it.

The reason for the question was apparent – they were standing in front of a run-down old mansion, with rusted gates hanging open, and the most ominous feeling Ronald had ever felt.

“We’re here to talk to a ghost. Well, a witch, technically, but she died and came back, so I guess ghost applies”, came the reply.

Ronald stared at him, unsure whether to be horrified or burst out laughing at his deadpan tone. He gulped and asked, “And why are we here to talk to a ghost?”

Arctus, seemingly unaware of his discomfort, replied in the same tone, as if he was talking about an expedition to the grocery store, “I need some information. Don’t worry, this won’t take long. We’ll be back home soon. You could just wait here, I can do it myself.”

Roland was many things, but he wasn’t a coward. And he was the kind of man the phrase, ‘Curiosity killed the cat’, had been invented for. So naturally, his response was the exact opposite of any sane man’s: “No, sure, I’ll come along.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “This is, uh, safe, right?”

Arctus waved off the comment with a casual hand gesture, as he began walking down the mansion path. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing worse than me in there.”

“Right”, Ron muttered, “That’s really comforting.” And he set off after his friend into the certifiably haunted mansion.

It hadn’t been 15 minutes, but Ron and Arctus had somehow run into 4 different minor spirits already. One had tried to ominously drop on them from the ceiling, but Arctus had banished it with a flick of his wrist. Another had tried to lure them into a room with ominous singing. Arctus had told it to improve its voice and try again later. The last two had tried to appear behind them and snap their necks. Unfortunately for them, Arctus was able to see ghosts even when they were invisible, and had exorcised both in short order.

Unfortunately for Ron, it appeared that his luck had run out. Somehow, even though he had been right behind Arctus, he found himself completely alone.

“Right. Standard horror movie fare. I’ve been separated, now I’m about to get eaten or something”, Ron muttered fatalistically.

He kept walking, with the assumption that doing something was better than just standing around. He came to a junction and randomly picked the left path.

Ron hadn’t gotten more than 20 feet down the hallway when he saw a beautiful woman standing at the end of the hallway, beckoning him forward.

Ron was an avid reader of books and watcher of movies. As a result, he knew for a fact that following a beautiful woman in a mansion which had been certified to be haunted was the sort of thing that led to a very painful death.

He immediately turned around and walked back, not wanting anything to do with painful deaths, and was rewarded with a frustrated shriek from behind him.

He continued walking… and walking… and walking some more. He stopped and said, “Okay, so I know I walked at least 200 feet. This hallway cannot be that long, because the entire mansion isn’t that long. Now could you come out, whatever you are?”

At his words, a dark, shadowy presence peeled off the hallway walls and came to loom above him, whispering and moaning in eldritch tongues.

Ron gulped nervously, and said, trying to be brave, “Look, the Master-wizard Arctus is my friend. He’s here, you know. And I’m sure he’d be really angry if something happened to me. So… so you should let me go?” He hadn’t intended the final bit to be a question, but the entity’s dark presence stole most of his courage.

The entity didn’t appear to be impressed, and swooped in to… steal Ron’s soul, or something like that, probably. Thankfully, it was interrupted by an enormous blast of red-gold flame.

Cape swirling, eyes glowing a terrifying golden-orange, and bolts of visible reddish-orange magic swirling around his hands, Arctus lived up to his claim – there wasn’t anything worse than him in the mansion.

“Yes”, he said simply, “He would be. You should have let him go, Shadow Stealer.”

The dark spirit – a Shadow Stealer, apparently – tried to cringe away from the enraged wizard, only to get hit with a glowing, golden magical net. The net appeared to actually be painful to it, as it shrieked and screamed, even as its sides smoked and steamed. Arctus made no sound, glaring at it with a deadly calm, as he clenched his fist. The magical net contracted, and the spirit’s cries became more and more panicked, until with a sickening pop it vanished from existence altogether.

Both humans remained silent for a few minutes, then Ron mustered up enough courage to speak, “Um, I’m really grateful to you for saving me and all, but, uh… has anyone ever told you you’re terrifying?”

Arctus looked at him with an unreadable expression, then smiled and replied, “Many spirits have, and quite a few humans too. Come on, now, the witch isn’t far.”

He turned and began to walk, and Ron followed. As he walked, Arctus raised a hand, then turned it in a complex pattern. Magic wove around the hand, forming a beautiful design, although it was too tightly-packed for Ron to understand much of anything. With a flick of his wrist, Arctus sent the magic bundle at Ron. He flinched, but the spell didn’t seem to do anything except make his eyes tingle a bit.

“What was that?”, he asked, a bit confused.

“A vision spell”, Arctus replied, turning around to look at him slightly sheepishly. “I forgot that you didn’t have enough training to automatically see through ghostly illusions. That’s how we got separated. Now, you should be able to see through them, if any pop up.

Thankfully for Ron’s poor heart, no other spirits accosted them until they reached their destination. They were probably all hiding in fear of Arctus, after what he did to the Shadow Stealer.

The two entered through a door into a massive, open room. When the mansion was still in use, Ron suspected it had been a feast hall. Now, it was empty, except for a massive throne at the end. The throne had clearly been an ornate wooden affair at some point, but the wood appeared to have grown out into a full-blown tree, which dug roots into the floor and ripped up through the ceiling.

On the throne sat a woman, dressed in an old-fashioned pitch-black evening gown. The hem of the dress appeared to melt into the shadows around her. Her skin was pale – nearly perfectly white, in fact, as if she had no blood at all. Ron rather suspected she didn’t. Her eyes were midnight black, and seemed to be doing the opposite of glowing – absorbing all light into themselves. She was beautiful, but only in the sense of a sunset or a thunderstorm – an entirely inhuman beauty.

Ron didn’t need to be told that this was the witch – she eclipsed every spirit he had seen so far in power, by a wide margin. In fact, the only being he’d met who outpowered her was Arctus.

Arctus strode forward casually, apparently unbothered by the intense waves of power the witch was giving out, and Ron hurriedly followed for fear of getting lost again.

The two came to a stop several feet in front of the throne. Arctus smiled and spoke, as casually as if he was talking to an old friend, “Viola. How are you, old girl? Still terrorizing men in the countryside?”

The witch grinned – a terrifying smile, that was more a baring of teeth than anything resembling humour. She replied, in a mildly amused, cold, tone, “Something like that. What about you Arctus? I see you’re wandering around with mortals these days.”

She shot an arm out and made a flicking motion, aiming at Ron.

Instantly, he felt as if he had sunk into a lovely, wonderful dream, where everything was fine and nothing bad could happen. The woman in front of him was suddenly the most attractive person he had ever seen – and she was calling him! She wanted him! She-

With a snap, the spell broke as Arctus wove his counterspell with a flick of his own wrist. Ron stumbled back, shocked to realise that he had actually taken a step forward under the influence of the witch’s magic.

“I’ll thank you not to attempt to ensnare my friends, Viola”, Arctus said, his tone cold with suppressed anger.

The witch raised both hands in a placating motion, and said, “A mere test, I assure you. I would have left him some blood.”

Ron shuddered at the thought of the witch drinking his blood, but Arctus spoke before he could say anything, “As thankful as I am, Viola, I’d prefer you not give a demonstration. I’m here for some information, and we’ll be out in minutes.”

The witch waved a hand lazily, and said, “Well, ask then, Arctus. Don’t leave us waiting all night.”

Arctus nodded slowly, and said, “I just want to know – do you remember a man called Falker Lewins?”

The witch put a hand on her chin and a thoughtful look came over her face.

“Falker Lewins… hmm, yes, I believe there was a man of that name who came here. Far too arrogant. He fell prey to one of the wraiths on the second floor – the old beautiful woman trick, I believe. Surprising how often that happens – you’d think they would learn their lesson by now. The wraith brought him to me, of course. I had some fun terrifying him before I drained his blood. Well, what did you want with him? Hopefully you didn’t need him alive...”, she said, discussing how she had killed a man in the same tone one would discuss the weather.

Arctus didn’t seem bothered by her words, and simply replied with, “No, I didn’t need him alive. It’s just that he stole a radio from me, once. I didn’t have the time to track him down earlier. By the time I found him, I learnt that he had disappeared after coming here. I assumed you got him, so I came here. Could I trouble you to check if he had the radio on him when he came here?”

The witch shrugged, nonchalantly, and snapped her fingers. Out of her shadow, a translucent, smoky figure rose up before solidifying into a humanoid figure. It resembled a tall, muscular man, but it had a tail made of a thorny vine, 6 eyes, and a gaping hole in the side of its chest. It knelt before the witch.

“Falker”, the witch asked, “Do you remember this man?” She pointed at Arctus.

The spirit – Falker, apparently – turned to look at Arctus, then spoke simply, “I do, my lady. I stole a radio from him once.”

Ron, for his part, was mainly trying to digest the fact that they had come here – into terrifying mortal danger – just to get a radio. Being a wise and intelligent man, however, he didn’t mention the sheer ridiculousness of the situation while standing next to two beings capable of turning him to dust with a wave of their hands.

The witch – Viola – nodded once, imperiously, then said, “Well, Falker, did you have it with you before your demise?”

Falker bowed to her again and said, “I did, my lady. Would you like me to retrieve it?”

Viola nodded, in the manner of someone who expected to be obeyed at all times.

Falker knelt and sank back into her shadow, then reappeared a minute later, holding an old-fashioned radio in his hands – which were claw-like, Ron now realized. He was also realizing what happened when Viola killed someone – and it left a sick, rolling feeling in addition to the sheer terror he was experiencing.

Arctus took the radio with a satisfied smile, then nodded at Viola and said, “Thank you for your help, Viola. We’ll take your leave now.”

The witch nodded, and replied, slightly mocking, “Farewell, Arctus. Farewell, human. I hope you come by again… without Arctus, next time.”

Ron mustered up the courage to speak, “Thank you for the invitation, Lady Viola, but, uh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

The witch laughed, loudly – a spine-chilling laugh. Then she waved the two of them away. Arctus turned and began walking back toward the entrance, and Ron followed. The two stepped out of the door… and ended up on the front steps of the mansion.

“Wha-“, Ron began, but Arctus had already moved ahead, and he wasn’t willing to stick around the place much longer, so he quickly went followed the wizard.

Arctus began explaining before he even voiced his question, “Viola’s throne room is right through the main doors. She just likes to warp space to mess with intruders.”

Ron nodded slowly, then, as they exited the mansion gates, he asked, “Did you really go in there just for a radio?”

Arctus raised an eyebrow and said, “Not entirely. One of my motives was reminding Viola which of us was more powerful – she has been ignoring my orders not to attempt to expand her territory.” He paused, then added, “But yeah, I wanted this radio back, too. It’s one of my favourite gadgets.”

“Well!”, Ron said, brightening up, “At least I can say I’ve been inside a real haunted mansion now!”

He trudged on, processing the oddities and intricacies which came with being friends with one of the most powerful beings in the world.