Hey there! Hi there! Ho there! Thanks for taking the time to read the second chapter. Thanks to my two reviewers, y'all rock! I don't own anything affiliated with the Haunted Mansion or the Pagemaster, however, I do own the character Paula Andersen. Enjoy!
Oblivious to the three hitchhikers in her car, Paula pushed open the door to find a small foyer. Dust and cobwebs filled the whole room. A fireplace stood opposite a small wood table with an old encyclopedia on it. A formal portrait of a distinguished young man wearing a tuxedo hung above the fireplace. There were small pools of water on the floor, proof that Terry or some mortal had been there lately. The only light came from a dusty chandelier, whose candles flickered underneath their globes even though there was no wind in the room.
Suddenly, the door she had left half-open slammed shut, startling her. The candlelight dimmed and a dramatic, eerie voice filled the room.
"Welcome, foolish mortal to the Haunted Mansion."
The voice sent chills down her spine and her voice shook as she spoke.
"Terry? Is that you? If it is, you're not funny."
"I am your host," boomed the voice. "Your Ghost Host."
Paula turned, looking for the source of the voice and found the young man from the portrait standing behind her.
"Good evening, miss."
She jumped back and uttered a little scream. The man smirked and stuck out his hand. Paula took it gingerly. She wondered if this man was part of a cruel joke that came from her brother's strange mind. However, the house was supposed to be empty for years and this man looked exactly like the portrait above the fireplace if not a little older. He was about a head taller than Paula, so he had to look down at her, which added to his upper class style. Dark brown hair was a great contrast to his bright blue eyes that shone with conviviality. There was no malice in his voice when he spoke; just a twinge of amusement and an overwhelming air of aristocracy.
"If you will excuse the abruptness, I like to know who enters my mansion."
"I'm Paula Andersen."
"Miss Andersen, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"And who, sir, are you?"
"I am Master Gracey, ghostly owner of this haunted mansion."
He bowed over her hand.
"Ghostly?!"
Paula jerked back her hand as if she had burned it. Gracey merely chuckled and clapped his hands together.
"So, what are you here for?"
"I…"
"Wait, I have a talent for guessing what people want." He studied her for a moment and Paula found that his gaze made her nervous. Perhaps it was just the fact that he was dead, but that did not seem to be the complete reason. She fell that there was something unsettling behind his gaze. His voice snapped her out of her musings. "You look like a party girl. You've come to join our swinging wake. Dancing, food, maybe a duel or two."
"Well, no, actually…"
"Of course not! You're more of a bookworm, aren't you? You have a yen for a good read and come for our fine collection of ghost stories from around the world. Our library is well stocked with priceless first editions. Poe, Stoker, Shelley, King." Underneath his dark eyebrows, his blue eyes twinkled.
"Not exactly, I just need…"
"To have a ghost follow you home. We have three candidates that would be more than happy to hitchhike along, if they haven't already that is. Phineas, Ezra, Gus. They've been dying for a ride."
"Mr. Gracey, I just need to find my little brother."
His face fell a little.
"Oh, well," his face perked back up a little. "You're very welcome to search the house. Just don't go into any boarded up rooms. I'll be in the study if you need anything. I'm sure he's around someplace, probably hiding in one of the rooms."
"Great, so it's a game of hide-and-seek. My favourite," she muttered to herself. Aloud she said, "Mr. Gracey, where is…"
Before she could finish, Gracey vanished to parts unknown in a wisp of blue smoke. His footsteps echoed around her before fading out completely. The antique chandelier lit up to its regular setting as did the sconces on various places on the wall. Even the enhanced light did not help her to find a way out.
"…the way out?"
She sighed and looked around. A door creaked open and Gracey's voice filled the room again, this time in a whisper.
"There's always my way."
"Thanks."
She stepped through the door and started down the seemingly empty hallway.
Gracey! (glomps the grim grinning ghost) Yeah, I'm done now. Please review!