The Host was busy going through the hall of paintings interviewing whoever he ran into. He walked up to the peasant werewolf, who was busy roasting marshmallows over a burning town in his time off. He cleared his throat and asked, "Excuse me, have you see a mortal?"

"You're tailing the wrong guy. But whatever you're looking for, it sounds ruff." The werewolf noted, before returning to his marshmallows. The Host nodded then continued to the next painting of a young woman, who was enjoying a nap.

"Excuse me?" The Host knocked on the painting and April woke up, "No! What have you done?"

The woman turned from beautiful into a grotesque hag, December, who said, "I'm exhausted."

"You just slept."

"And I got ten hours. Why am I tired?" December asked as she rolled over.

"Have you possibly seen a mortal go by here?"

"Ugh. Ask me in the morning." She rolled over and turned back into a beautiful woman as soon as she fell asleep. The Host continued down the hall until he came upon a portrait of a young man who was free from the painting and arguing with everyone. Master Gracey was too young when he died, so, rather expectedly, he did his best to make the most of his youth, by playing Graves and Ghouls with all the other paintings.

"The door ahead of you is clean and safe. On the other side you can hear mortals talking about taxes and bills." Master Gracey explained to his other players. To his left was the Horseman, who wore a wizard hat on top of his ghastly attire. This was followed by Catty, who was rolled over as she played. Finally, there was Medusa, who wore a pair of sunglasses as her snakes began to shake the dice.

"I roll for stealth." Medusa said, crossing her fingers. Her snakes were tensing up in anticipation. The dice landed on the board below with a clatter. Ironically, she got a two.

"You try to open the door stealthily, but instead you fall over and cause a bunch of bookshelves to fall over like dominos. The mortals ready their weapons, shouting out their deadly battle cry! 'Who are you gonna call?'"

"Agh!" Medusa and her snakes began to panic. The Horseman chose to intervene, "Don't worry Medula, warrior of the catacombs, Ichabo of Toad Terrace used an enchanted book of sorcery to distract them and protect you!"

"Feli, cat queen of the Nile rolls around on the floor and meows loudly, purring to her friends." Catty mewed. Everyone looked at her with deadpanned looks. Master Gracey sighed and asked, "Catty, are you sure you're not a furry?"

"No! Why do you always say that?"

"Excuse me?" The Host interrupted the group, "Master Gracey?"

"He is not Master Gracey! He is Nathanial, Dungeon Master!" the Horseman announced. The Host sighed, "Ok, Nathanial, Dungeon Master, I'm looking for a mortal."

"A mortal? What did she look like?" Gracey asked, as the others tried to remember. Medusa asked, "Did she have a yellow rain coat? Pretty sure I saw a little girl like that on one of the boats."

"Does she give good belly rubs?" Catty asked. The whole group tried to pretend that question didn't happen. The Host answered, "She's wearing a pair of sneakers and a t-shirt."

"I didn't see her, but I saw Hatbox running around. Did you know he was back?" the Horseman asked. Gracey answered with a question, "No. What's he doing walking around?"

"I'm going to find out." The Host answered, straightening his jacket. Junior thought for a second then said, "Some of the little portraits began to act aloof earlier near the library. Maybe he's there?"

"Thank you."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for a game of Graves and Ghouls?" Gracey asked, offering a pair of dice to the Host, who declined. "I wish I could, but I'm much too busy."

"Ok but come back again some time!" Medusa offered, and Catty added, "And bring treats."

"Catty, really?" The Horseman asked, ready to pull his head off. The Host left them to it and went forward towards the library.

The library was well stocked with all the greatest ghost stories of all the greatest ghost writers the literary world had ever known. It was surprisingly closed off by Hatbox, who was pondering his given situation. He had hoped that the ingrates had taken care of Constance by now. But here he was, pacing back and forth like a fool waiting for them. He was surprised to see the Host of all people headed down the hall towards the library.

He was surprised to see Hatbox, and Hatbox was alarmed to see him.

"Hatbox! I thought you were getting settled into the attic…" The Host inquisited. Hatbox stammered for a moment, "Ah yes. Well I just wanted to have a look around the old place. Read a few books from the old days, you know?"

"Yes…" The Host immediately caught on to what happened. Hatbox had a history of hating humans, mortal and immortal. He must have trapped the mortal here. "Perchance Hatbox, have you seen a mortal come through here?"

"Me, oh no no!" Hatbox began to knead into his cane, fiddling with his hands. "I would never, I have never, a haven't seen a mortal come through, that is!"

"Is that so? I had multiple accounts that the mortal came through here." The Host offered. Hatbox's voice began to lighten.

"And for her safety and the safety of the Mansion, it is my duty to safely guide her to Leota where she will be safe until morning." The Host pressed further. Hatbox cleared his throat, "Yes, of course, of course!"

"So, anyone who is holding the mortal hostage, for example, would be against both me and Leota? Two high ranking members within the mansion?"

"Ah…yes…you are correct. But I'm afraid, curse these poor old bones! I cannot recall if I saw her or not! My memory is not what it used to be, you understand?" Hatbox whimpered, smiling though he was very anxious.

"Hatbox?" The Host asked, to which Hatbox let out a peep and asked, "Yes?"

"Open the door."

"Oh! The door?"

"Yes."

"This door?"

"Yes."

"The door that's behind me?"

"Yes."

"The door which opens?"

"Hatbox!" The Host raised his voice and adjusted his collar. Hatbox shakingly opened the door to reveal a very empty library. They both peered inside.

"What? Where is she?" Hatbox shouted, his jaw dropping to the floor. He quickly picked it up then shoved it back in and said, "I mean, it's empty, of course."

The Host stepped inside and looked around. He felt the walls, breaking cuts in dust in the bookshelves. He eventually came upon a similar trail along the books that cut off at one book titled, "Shipley-Lydecker."

The Host felt the book then eventually heard a loud click. The bookcase began to open, it's boards sliding apart with the books still delicately balancing on them as its parts swung outwards like a spiral staircase. It went upstairs, up to a trap door that opened from above. The Host knew this path a little too well, while Hatbox was amazed, "How long has that been there?"

"When the mortals installed the buggies, they needed to put the mechanisms somewhere. It runs through the mansion as clockwork." The Host explained, going up the stairs. Hatbox tailed behind nervously, "So, we shouldn't have any problems regarding any other spirits up here?"

The Host made it to the top of a massive wooden catwalk surrounded by massive gears and cogs. Each burst of steam in the boiler room let out a green spew that formed a deathly skull. The Host looked around and concluded, "No, usually only mortals work here."

"Good." Hatbox raised his cane high and delivered a frightful smack to the Host's head from behind. The Host took the hit, then turned around to return the favor, but Hatbox brought him down with a second swing. Hatbox stood over the unconscious ghoul, then chuckled, delivering a heavy kick to the side for good measure. "These old bones still have a kick to them."

He looked around and like he had done with so many bodies, he began to drag it and dispose of the evidence. Hatbox tossed the Host's limp body into the clockwork then adjusted his hat, chuckling to himself. He tipped his hat, then vanished without a trace.

Down below, the Host landed onto a massive gear that dragged him onto a chain up into a massive gear primed to crush him. Blue mist began to form around him as my voice began to ring out, "Host! Let not your spirit fail! Awaken once more! Awaken!"

The mist formed into a ball floating beside the Host, shouting again, "Awaken! Awaken!"

The Host neared the gear above, inciting me to float up ahead of him and coat the gear in blue smoke, illuminating it with a glow. It began to brake, scraping its partners around it. It took a great deal of strength for me to bring it to a rough halt, and even then, the Host would not awaken. I clenched my teeth as the gear stopped, and the chain began to yearn for its grasp. I let the spirits answer my call, fog sweeping over the Host before eventually tearing him off the chain. I set him down below and watched him. I took a deep breath, then considered my options.

"Ghosts and ghouls, free from their frames, send us home to my domain!" I let the blue smoke form around us and send us back to the séance room. My curtains came to my side and began to shake him, trying to wake him up. It wasn't graceful of me, but I was worried for the young ghoul. I tried to think of what to do and summoned something from my collection.

My music box kept the mansions stable, ensured that no harm came to the Mansions around the world. Its song had the ability to bring life out of everything, inanimate objects, the dead, everything. Carefully, my curtains opened it, and the song began to play.

Wake ye unrestless souls

Wake up and mend all holes

Though your paths have taken tolls

Wake ye unrestless souls

This is your home

Your dream, your mind

A place to call your own

A place for you to resign

Wake ye unrestless souls

Wake up and dance the floor

Wake ye unrestless souls

Or else wake ye nevermore…

The music box began to glimmer and spill out the music, awakening the instruments around us, and inciting them to play, and with them, came the Host, who woke up with a scared breath. I loomed over him in relief and a twinge of disappointment before sliding the music box back among the trinkets.

"You used the music box…" The Host asked. I closed my eyes then justified my decision, "I didn't know the extent of the damages, and we haven't time to lose."

"We need that music box to make sure the mansions stay stable and the dead don't stay dead. It brings us to life and makes some of the other inanimate objects come to life. It's not supposed to be wasted!"

I would not argue with him, "In the thousand years that I've been managing these Mansions, and the half a century you've been here, I do not think you are justified to giving me instructions on how to do my duties."

"But…"

"Silence." I ended it there. "Now, I sense a great evil is coming to end us. What happens to that mortal will change the fate of many of our mansions."

I was surprised to hear someone run in. Run here was a difficult term to use, since he was dragging a massive ball and chain around his leg. Gus came in and shouted for my attention, "Madame Leota! Madame Leota!"

He stopped himself to take a breath, leaning over and wheezing. "Oh…heavens above…"

"Gus, you came unannounced." The Host noted, prepared to escort him out. I corrected the behavior, "Allow the prisoner to speak."

"Thank you, your excellence." Gus wheezed, then explained, "It's about my friends. Ezra has been captured by the Bride, and Phineas agreed to get her a butler or a maid in exchange for him. Then Hatbox tried to deal the mortal in exchange for Constance. Everybody is making deals, everything is terrible."

"Hatbox no longer has the mortal." The Host explained, "I was investigating him in the library when he tried to get rid of me. Thank you again, your excellence."

"You're welcome, Host. Now. The mortal is likely still somewhere in the mansion. If I have enough time, then I should be able to locate her, but I need something of hers to do it."

"Would this work?" Gus asked, taking out a small can of spray. He presented it to the Host, who in turn presented it to me. I approved it, "This will do. Now, you two need to stop Phineas. If you encounter Constance or Hatbox in the process, alert me immediately Gus."

The Host was offended by this and gawked at me, and at Gus. Gus took one look at Host and understood what I was talking about it. I kindly asked, "Host, could you excuse us for a moment?"

He begrudgingly nodded then vanished. I looked to Gus, and explained, "The Host is under the influence of the bride. I'm sure you're familiar with what happens to those who become affiliated."

Gus nodded, "It happened to Ezra once. She drained the life out of him until he was nothing but a skeleton, then tossed him away like an old rag."

"I can already sense some of the effects on the Host. It is imperative that you do not let him engage with either Constance or Hatbox. Hatbox is just as guilty for those murders as the bride."

"What happened there?" Gus asked. I reluctantly sighed. "Constance murdered her husbands, and Hatbox, infatuated with her, helped stuff the bodies and hide them in his hatboxes. Little did he know that old habits die hard, and he would be number six, ensuring there were no more loose ends."

"That's really messed up."

"We are all disturbed, one way or another. To the matter at hand. There is a threat to us all. Constance likely found it through investigating the Host's mind. She will do everything in her power to stop it."

"I thought she was the bad guy."

"Self-preservation takes priority over greed most of the time. Now go. The Host will escort you to the servant's quarters." I opened the curtains for him to meet up with the Host in the other room. He was giving Gus an angered glare, to which the prisoner gave a friendly wave. I closed the curtain behind him then returned to tracking Lillian.

The Host offered his hand to Gus, who took it with both hands and shook it happily. The Host floated down the hall, leading the prisoner along with him.