The Antique Collector
by Miss March Muffin
Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost Hunt. All rights to Fuyumi Ono. The following story is a work of fiction; any similar names that may appear are coincidental and not deliberate.
Prologue.
The mansion looms like a tall shadow on the still and silent mountainside. Its tall arching windows are dark, like gaping mouths on the pale concrete walls.
A cold breeze rustles the surrounding trees and shrubbery, and then all goes still. No crickets chirp, no owls hoot. Even the freshly cut grass is still.
Inside, a large grandfather clock signals the start of the witching hour, the gongs echoing throughout the mansion.
In one of the rooms, a woman slumped in front of the fireplace stirs from the noise. Confused and frightened, she goes for the doors, but they're locked shut. She bangs her fists and yells for help, but there is no one living in the building.
Then, she hears it. It is faint, nearly drowned out by the gongs of the grandfather clock. On the other side of the door, a little girl's voice filters through, along with the scent of sweet roses.
"Ring-o, ring-o roses,
A pocketful of posies;
Ashes, ashes,
We all fall…"
"…down." The word is whispered to her ear, and she screams. She turns, but there is no one there.
There is a shriek; startled, she turns and sees the mirror warp. A crackle of electricity sizzles along the bronze frame. A piece of it chips off. The shrieking grows louder, and a soft pounding joins the din of disembodied voices. Long shadow-like arms emerge from the huge mirror above the fireplace.
Faster than she could blink, they wrap around her limbs like vines she could not touch. They start dragging her to the mirror, her chin hitting the floor hard. Fear-cold, irrational, and primal and savage-consumes her. She no longer felt human; there was only fear.
"Help! Somebody help me!" The woman screams; her hands desperately claw at the floor for some leverage. It feels like icy water on her skin the moment her feet pass through the mirror. "Help!" Before long, her torso is swallowed up too. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears; could feel her heart beating like a hummingbird.
Her chest tightens, like a crushing weight on her body, and it gets difficult to breathe. Black spots fill her vision just as the shadowy fingers tug at her face. Her fingers slip inside the mirror last. There is a beat of silence, and then a loud sickening crunch, not unlike the sound of bones breaking.
Blood splatter inside the mirror, but the surface remains dry. The mirror gives one last sizzle, before going still and silent.
A breathy hiss, like a sigh, sweeps through the mansion.
"Soon…"
BSPR Case# 7354
Case Title: Shichi Mansion, Mt. Oyama (Kanagawa, Japan)
Inhabitant: Goryou, nearly Jikininki
Casualties: 79 (known dead); 9 (unconfirmed)
Status: Sealed[as of May 30th, 20XX]
Recommendation(s): Destroy sealed gate (Grecian Mirror) via purification fire.
Case Handled By: Lead Investigator Haymish Anderson, PhD
A/N. Yes, it seems I have started yet another fanfic. For sure, this one will be finished (I swear upon my pride and honor as a fellow fanfiction reader!). I'm currently writing the last couple of chapters, to give enough leeway for proofreading and other minor fixing. This won't be too long; definitely less than 10 chapters. I found it a bit of a challenge to maintain the active-narration thing, when I'm so used to past tense narration. Fingers crossed on how it turns out.
I'm determined to see this one through, and I hope you all will be enjoying and looking forward to the rest of the ride. 'Til the next chapter!
- Miss March Muffin.