" I'm Steve DiSchiavi. I'm a retired New York city homicide detective. And I know every person, every house, has secrets. It's my job to reveal them."
The Day Before the Investigation (Continued)
Steve DiShiavi arrived at the Alamain mansion in Salem, USA. It looked like something straight out of a gothic novel. He'd never seen anything like it. Amy would definitely love it here.
As he walked up to the front door, a strange tingle moved down his spine. He had never felt like this before, never once in the past six years of conducting paranormal investigations alongside Amy. This place was different. This house was special.
He wasn't a psychic man. He dealt in the facts. It was his job to gather research during the investigation. Amy dealt with the paranormal. As he stood at the door, poised to knock, his heart was in his throat.
His intuition told him he should leave. He should not step foot inside that house of horrors, but something called him inside. As he stood at the door, he thought he caught a glimpse of a small child on the porch beside him. She was wearing a long white dress and satiny black shoes. Her dark hair was a mess of tumbled curls. When he turned to look at her, she was suddenly gone.
That had never happened before, not even once in all his years of investigations. He had never seen anything. Never felt anything. But he could feel it now and he was scared. Absolutely terrified.
What happened here? he was thinking, but before he could even knock, the door opened and there stood a man.
"You're here to investigate the house," the man said knowingly.
Steve nodded. "Hello. I'm Steve DiSchiavi," he said.
"Come in, Sir," said the servant.
The man moved aside, allowing Steve to enter. "Mr. Alamain," the man called out. "The paranormal investigator is here."
"Thank you, Ivan," said Lawrence as he approached, holding a tall glass of wine.
" , this is my butler, Ivan Marais," Lawrence introduced.
"It's good to meet you, Sir," said Ivan as he gave a gracious bow. After he spoke, he walked down a long hall, quietly leaving the foyer.
Steve nodded to the butler. "Your wife called," Steve said to Mr. Alamain. "She mentioned... some strange occurrences, odd things happening within your mansion."
"I'm afraid our mansion is haunted," Lawrence said after a long cleansing sip of his wine. "My wife has seen the apparition and so has our son."
"And you haven't?" asked Steve.
Lawrence chuckled lightly. "I don't believe in ghosts or specters."
"I would like to interview everyone in the family," Steve said. "Amy will be arriving tomorrow to continue the investigation. Mr. Alamain, what exactly happened in this house?"
"A child died," Lawrence replied. "Let me show you."
He lead Steve into the parlor. The house itself looked like a grand museum. There were so many antiques and precious artifacts. As they stood before the fire, Lawrence gestured to the lovely portrait which had been placed above the mantle.
"There she is," he said.
"Who is it?" Steve asked as he looked at the image in shock.
It was she, the young girl he had seen a few minutes earlier as he was standing at the front door about to knock. He had seen her image, just out of the corner of his eye. She had been there... but she had disappeared!
"Her name was Lucinda Alaimain. She died," Lawrence replied.
"How?" Steve questioned.
Before Lawrence could answer, a strange woman burst into the room. "Lawrence, who is this man?" she asked as she looked at Steve with contempt. She looked like an evil, red-haired witch. Steve was sure she had been sent to put a curse on him. He didn't know what he feared worse, the house or the disturbing woman.
Steve found his voice. "Who are you?" he asked the woman.
"I am Vivian Alamain, Lawrence's aunt. This is my house... and you have to go!"
Just then, a beautiful woman entered the parlor, followed by a young boy. "No, Vivian," she said firmly. "I asked the team from the Dead Files to come to Salem to investigate. Something isn't right... here in the mansion, ever since Lawrence and I returned from Paris with Nicky. Something is... off, and I intend to find out what it is. I intend to find out what she wants."
She looked up at the portrait and in that moment, Steve saw Vivian Alamain cringe. He looked from one Alamain to another. Something wasn't right. He had to interview the family one by one. He had to gather up every shred of evidence, then he would do research to find out exactly what had happened. It wasn't going to be easy. Something told him that this family was threaded together by horrific secrets. He could feel it; he could see it in their eyes.
