The hallway was much scarier once you left the warmth and brightness of a room. Upon closer inspection, the wallpaper was a muted shade of indigo, not blue, and printed with an odd reoccurring black, lacy pattern. But what was truly eerie was the way that the pattern seemed to form into faces with sharp teeth and watchful eyes…
Sabrina shuddered in revulsion. It's like the house is watching our every move…
Adorning the wall were grotesque pictures; the black-and-white daguerreotypes depicted hideously deformed goblins and ghoulies with faces that could break a camera. Sabrina briefly wondered who had taken those photos. Small tables and chair also littered the hallway, set with unlit lamps and bowls of dead flowers, in a pitiful attempt at mitigating the sinister atmosphere.
The Spirit Detective's lip curled in disgust as she discovered that the needlepoint above the table nearest her to read "Tomb, Sweet Tomb." "Which way?" she asked uneasily, turning away from the sampler. She reached up to scratch behind her familiar's ears; Salem had climbed onto her shoulder, wary of treading the dusty ground.
"To your right," Leota answered firmly. "We'll be taking the left-hand-side of the Downstairs Hallway."
Only a few feet away stood the wood-paneled archway leading to the other wing of the house. Sabrina sucked in her breath, and started walking. I wonder if this place can possibly get any creepier. It doesn't seem feasible.
But to her surprise, this section of the hallway looked almost…normal. It was wallpapered in pale yellow with thin white stripes, and a carpet of plain, respectable moss green covered the floor. The only decorations were a few oaken niches in the wall, each housing a marble bust. It seemed as if the hallway was trying to keep up a respectable façade in light of its being placed in a haunted mansion.
"Take the first door on your left!" Leota chirped. "Got to get this over with!"
How can she be so cheery and chipper? If she's trying to cheer me up, that's poor reassurance. Or is she trying to keep me calm, so I don't…well…go crazy
Salem, who had been silent since their departure from the Dining Room stiffened, the hair rising on his body. "Something's here," he hissed.
With a sudden start making her heart pound painfully, Sabrina froze. The cat was right; there was a strange presence in the room, a subtle sensation of being followed, being watched. But there couldn't possibly be anyone following them….right?
Is it just my imagination, or are those marble busts looking at us?
The teenage witch quickly whirled around to check. The statues innocuously inhabited their positions, the stern looks etched onto their faces directed at each other. Sabrina's heartbeat slowly relaxed. Maybe it was just my imagination …
Laughing nervously, she scratched her head and turned away. As she walked further down the corridor, the marble busts swiveled to watch her, scowls deepening as they stared at the intruder.
Sabrina finally found the door to the Ballroom, thoughtfully pausing before it. "I wonder what it looks like," she murmured. Maybe it'll look like a castle ballroom from a fairy tale…
"Well, you won't find out by staring at the door," Salem drawled.
Leota looked thoughtful. "I wonder how it's held up over the years?"
Sabrina sighed, and placed her hand to the door, watching eagerly as the energy barrier dissolved with a single touch. The door slowly swung open with a prolonged groaning creak. The Spirit Detective gasped in amazement, clasping her hands together. Even Salem's amber eyes widened in awe.
Indeed, the Ballroom was huge. Gazing at the lofty ceiling, Sabrina realized her entire house could fit easily into this room. Ionian pillars easily twenty-five feet in girth stood in precise rows, and the vast floor was tiled in alternating squares of pale gray and deep purplish-blue. At the rear of the room was its crowning glory—a majestic pipe organ, larger than any Sabrina had ever seen. The fact that it was spread and designed into a bat shape didn't overly please her. Sets of stairs curved on either side, leading to a balcony behind, with a balustrade running along it.
The light switch was easy to find—she could both faintly see and feel its pulsing energy on the wall of the balcony. She paused, though, eyes flickering over every surface of the room, as if waiting for it to twist in upon itself, or some other such freak.
Satisfied that no enemies existed in the room, she walked towards the organ, wondering if she dared to even touch the keys. She remembered playing the piano in the Conservatory, and smiled. I bet the "Phantom of the Opera" Overture would sound awesome played on this…I can just picture Erik seated there, cape billowing as he pounds the keys to make his 'music of the night'… I wonder if that makes me Christine, then…approaching the mysteries this mansion contains, ready to rip its mask of darkness off, to confront the distortion that so warps it…
In her musings, she barely noted that the faint glowing of the organ's keyboard.
Unexpectedly, the organ began playing of its own accord, a fierce, dark, angry melody wailing forth from the pipes. With sudden violence, the gusts of air whistled forth, gaining speed until they were blasts of wind, aiming straight for the teenage witch. Sabrina desperately tried to dig the heels of her boots into the floor, but the marble provided no traction. Skirt flapping around her thighs, she tried to block her face with the Beacon, and inch forward. With horror, she saw greenish, phantom skulls with gaping maws flow from the pipes along with the wind.
Her ankles wobbled once. With a sudden snap, she lost her footing, and was blown back, slamming against the wall. Sabrina was pinned by the torrent of wind alone, unable to even shift her backpack so that the bulge of Leota's crystal ball wouldn't be digging into her spine.
Salem gave a feline cry of horror, struggling to crawl along the wall to the door. Good boy…stay there. No need for you to get smashed up while I fight this.
Dark shapes scuttled out of nowhere, and Sabrina realized she'd been utterly wrong to believe the room had been enemy-free. Several orange-and-black monolithic spiders were approaching, somehow unhindered by the wind.
Sabrina's eyes narrowed. Okay—no time for analyzing. Switch behind organ. Organ sending out wind that blows me away. Spiders coming that can move in wind. The pincers of the nearest spider were rubbing together: a sign that it was preparing to go 'fishing for Sabrina' by shooting its sticky webbing at her. Her eyes widened. Bingo!
She lay, pinned against the wall, waiting. As if on cue, the nearest spider spat its stream of sticky web at her, and began steadily reeling her in, hoping for a good meal. As soon as Sabrina was within roughly six feet of the arachnid, its neighbor angrily shot its own stream of webbing, pulling at her furiously. Apparently, he wants some of the action, too.
As she was being pulled in two directions, Sabrina had slight difficulty in pulling out the Beacon. Hoping, and praying, she pulled out the Beacon, shooting repeatedly at the first spider that had hooked her. As it squealed and died, another spider, a little further back, shot its own stream at her. Turning to the second spider, Sabrina also killed it. More and more scuttled forward, each hoping to beat its neighbor to the prize.
"What are you doing?" Leota wailed, scarcely able to make herself heard over the wind. "You're going to get killed this way!"
But by the door, Salem slowly realized Sabrina's plan of attack. She would let a spider attach its stream of webbing to her and pull her closer to it. However, as there were spiders further away that also tried to pull her in, she was being dragged from spider to spider by their webbing—like how Tarzan swung from vine to vine in the jungle. As soon as another spider that was further away had hooked her, she killed the first one that hooked her, and let the second reel her in. A greedy third would scurry forward to try and steal its comrade's prey, and she would then let herself be pulled to that spider, killing the second.
A smirk slid onto Salem's lips. Clever. She seemed more confident now, with a plan of attack and a decisive goal. Of course, she lost her composure when two banshees (that no one had seen coming) glided towards her to attack while a spider was trying to eat her.
As she kicked at the spider's dripping jaws with her boots (careful to strike only with the heels; she didn't want to ruin them with teeth marks or spider saliva, after all), she twisted around, furiously flinging blasts of energy at the banshees. "NOT NOW! I'M BUSY!" she screamed.
As soon as she seemed within her goal of the organ, Salem watched a flicker of doubt hit her face. With a cold prickle, he realized what must have flashed through her mind. When she kills this last spider, how will she be able to climb up the stairs? It will have to back up with her past the organ in order to escape these crushing winds.
With a sudden, sinister hiss, everyone halted—even the spider that had latched onto the Spirit Detective. The largest spider any of the party had ever seen in their lives plopped (From the ceiling? Salem wondered) onto the seat of the organ. It squealed and hissed, waving its forelegs in the air.
With a hiss, a long column of web shot from its mouth, twisting around Sabrina's torso. The spider that had been previously contemplating eating the blonde scuttled away, in homage to the Queen Mother of giant spiders. The queen spider hauled the Detective in towards her with surprising rapidity.
Sabrina was shocked at first, her mouth agape in a round 'o' of surprise. But her initial fright was quickly replaced with panic, as she realized that this spider would be much harder to kill than the others. Frantically, Sabrina fired blast after blast of the Beacon's magic at the huge arachnid before her. Please work, please work!
The spider hissed, shooting another stream of sticky webbing to partially cover the Spirit Detective's head. Half blind, Sabrina's aim was now worse than before. The webbing now partially immobilized her right arm, pinning it against her torso, and making any movement to utilize the Beacon useless.
"Sabrina, come on!" Salem screamed from the end of the room.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Sabrina screamed back, twisting valiantly in the cocoon of webbing. No good. I'm just making myself get more stuck. I've got to think of something else…
Taking in a deep breath, Sabrina relaxed and went slack. The spider paused for a moment, puzzled. Not wasting an opportunity, Sabrina quickly released a pulse of energy from the Beacon, the sudden concentration of which quickly dissolved the webbing trapping her arm.
Gritting her teeth in a nasty smile, Sabrina pulled some of her own magic into the Beacon. "It's my turn to play now." One shot grazed the spider's head, tearing a chunk away; the second blew the beast's head clean off.
Sabrina bent over to catch her breath, resting her palms on her knees. Panting, she watched as the headless corpse of the spider wavered and fell backwards onto the organ, legs askew. With a loud clonk, the keyboard was compressed, and the battering winds died down, and then stopped altogether.
"…are you all right?" Leota asked quietly, from inside the backpack.
Sabrina made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. I somehow doubt that, given the circumstances. "I'm fine," she said tersely, brushing the last vestiges of the webbing off of her skirt.
Legs still slightly wobbling, Sabrina climbed the nearest staircase, trying to ignore the quickly decaying and disintegrating corpse of the giant arachnid. The switch was immediately before her, paired with a portrait of a dark-haired young woman posing as Lady Macbeth. Sabrina raised an eyebrow at the eerie look of insanity in the eyes of the painting's subject. "Just the picture I would choose for a ballroom," she laughed under her breath. "But then, I guess the Graceys were fairly morbid…"
Shaking her head, she wearily flipped the switch. A chandelier high above the Ballroom floor burst into a thousand brilliant points of light, causing the marble of the room to warmly glow.
Salem, who had crossed to the middle of the Ballroom floor by now, suddenly stopped in his tracks. The hair on his back stood up, spreading throughout his body as he instinctively began to swell. Ears peaked, tail straight up, and hackles raised, he hissed, golden eyes dilated.
Just as suddenly, the chandelier began swaying, the lights flickering and dying.
Panicking, Sabrina ran towards her familiar. Despite being trapped in the body of one, Salem rarely acted like an actual cat. For him to use his animalistic abilities meant that something was very wrong.
No matter what the Witches' Council believed, when (although Drell preferred to use "if") Salem was granted back his original body, his powers would increase. All those years spent locked inside the body of a cat would grant him animalistic abilities, instincts, and intuition that normal witches could never claim.
That was why Sabrina was so afraid now; because Salem was sensing something she couldn't…and whatever it was most likely was something very evil.
His amber eyes blazing, Salem was facing the pipe organ. "Behind you," he growled, in a voice barely distinguishable from an animal's snarl.
She froze in panic. Her breath shuddered as Salem hissed. Slowly, grip on the Beacon rattling, Sabrina turned around.
Standing on the staircase, almost behind the organ, stood an inhumanly tall man. Even before she'd noticed the purple robes and bloodstone pin, she knew he was not human. It wasn't the pale, flat, toadlike features. It wasn't the thin, knotty fingers sparkling with the kind of rings that ancient Other Realm warlords favored…it was the sheer aura swirling about him.
Like the mist swirling around the outside of the house, this aura spoke of a power beyond human comprehension or capabilities. Being half-witch, Sabrina could feel it, and even smell it, in a strange, spiritual way. It was cold, with a bitter tang, like bleach. This was the pervading aura in every room, this was what she had fought to banish every time she learned more of the history of this very house.
It was the stench of death.
An ugly smirk played on the warlock's thin, pale lips. With a magnificent sweep of his arms, the erratically flickering lights of the chandelier abruptly died. Flames, so deep a purple that they were nearly black, flickered around the hem of his robe.
He's very powerful, Sabrina realized as she broke out in a cold sweat, much more powerful than anyone thought about or gave him credit for. He's also old…very old… As she watched him silently, he did the same.
Cold, flat, dull green eyes surveyed the petite slip of a girl before him. They narrowed at first, scrutinizing her, as if trying to decide something. His eyes than widened fractionally in clarity: scorn, cold disdain, and sadistic amusement clearly displayed therein.
"Amusing," he noted in a cold, thin voice, "quite amusing. I had expected the wretched spirits of this Mansion to enlist the aid of a spiritual warrior, but not…this." He gestured at Sabrina, the smirk on his face becoming more apparent.
Fists slowly clenching, Sabrina could only note that his voice sounded just like she'd imagined it to be: cold, dark, derisive, and bitter.
He chuckled slowly, analyzing her again with cold appraisal. "A half-breed whelp that believes herself strong enough to control an item of power."
With cold certainty running up and down her spine like ants, Sabrina knew that this warlock was Atticus Thorne. "How do you know I'm a half-witch?" she asked slowly.
"You smell of it," he snorted. "The human filth that taints your witch blood reeks to the heavens and pollutes your aura." His eyes narrowing once more to malicious slits, he cocked his head to one side. "Has the Magic Council fallen so low as to employ worthless half-breeds? Such a shame…"
Prejudice against mixed witch-human offspring was nothing new; Sabrina had encountered it in the Other Realm before. Humans were often viewed as weak and useless, and therefore, anyone connected to them or descended from them had inherited that weak quality. But never before had she met anybody who could tell she was of mixed blood simply by reading her aura.
…this is bad. This is very bad.
But she had also never been very good at controlling her emotions, and so, the anger that arose from her old emotional wounds caused her to lash out. Sapphire eyes blazing, she lashed spiritual energy from the Beacon at him.
Thorne simply snorted contemptuously, and the hem of his robe began to twitch. Fat, dull-green pillbugs scurried from under his robes, popping and dying as the spiritual energy destroyed them and not their master.
At first bewildered, Sabrina then began to squeal with indignation as the pillbugs scurried toward her. She grimaced as she began stomping them, noting the squishiness and juiciness with which they popped.
"Useful little creatures, are they not?" Thorne laughed. "I'll depart for now, and leave you to your fun. But do not think that you can stop me," he sneered. "This house will be mine, and a half-breed such as you can do nothing to halt my plans." And with a final half-bark of laughter, the dark warlock dissolved into a pillar of flame, vanishing as abruptly as he'd come.
The lights of the chandelier flickered back on, illuminating the blonde's ashen face. Her fingers gripped the Beacon's handle tightly, leaving white marks in her skin. I can't believe myself. I let him get away…
A more relaxed Salem bounded up the steps, nuzzling his partner. She quickly scooped him up, cuddling him tightly against her chest. Leota was silent; perhaps she, too, had been unnerved by the sudden, unexpected appearance of Thorne.
She sat there for a while longer, cuddling her cat and mulling over the caustic words of her new enemy. I can't let his words get to me. I've got to be stronger. Finally, the teenage witch stood, cradling the cat in her arms. Her gaze sweeping the room, she stopped upon viewing the organ.
Seated before the organ, on the dusty, plush bench was a ghost with a familiar cape and shock of hair…
"He looks familiar," Sabrina mumbled. "But from where?"
"Let me see," Leota softly commanded from within the backpack. Sabrina swung the backpack around, opening the flap so the psychic could see. "Ahh! Herr von Baroketch!" Leota beamed. "So good to see you! How are you doing?"
The composer's shoulders tensed. "You know," he began in his nasal tone, "I don't mind the bats and the rats, or the evil spirits and monsters roaming around this place, but…" he suddenly whirled around, "I do mind being interrupted when I'm working!"
Sabrina shrank back; his snappish tone reminded her too much of Mr. Kraft.
The organist's eyes flickered to the scrap of yellowed paper Salem had fished out of the backpack. "What's that?" he demanded.
"Huh? Oh, that," Sabrina stammered, suddenly humbled. "It's your d-death certificate."
"Well, let me see it." He examined it, bushy eyebrows rising in shock. "W-what? This is preposterous! Me, put my work before my own life? Rubbish!"
'Denial' is more than a river in Egypt, pal…
Von Baroketch turned back to the organ, scowling. "Oh, wait, take this with you." He held out his palm, where a bright spark fizzled. It shone, and grew outward. Sabrina watched delightedly as it grew and hardened into a Soul Gem, orange, this time.
"Take this 'Soul Gem,' or whatever it is, with you." His voice dripped sarcasm, as he all but chucked it at her. "Call it what you will, but I say it's a distraction. I cannot be held responsible for looking after jewelry while composing. So take it and begone! Shoo!" He turned back to his organ; thin hands paused on the keyboard.
"And one more thing."
Sabrina paused from where she had been sneaking away. "Uh…yes, sir?"
"Get our Mansion back."
A smile crept onto Sabrina's lips. "Sure thing." As she turned to leave, she spotted a ghostly couple slowly waltzing back and forth on the dance floor.
"What is that song?" Salem mused. "It sounds familiar."
Sabrina listened to the Organist's song, trying to discern where she'd heard it. "You're right…I know I've heard this before."
"The Conservatory?" Leota gently offered.
Sabrina's eyes widened as she gasped. "Of course! This is the song the musicians were playing back in the Conservatory! Just a little bit more dramatic," she conceded.
"But…what song could it be?" Salem pondered.
Leota, again, was strangely quiet, her aura mists tinged a faint purple.
For those of you who remember that this is an eventual crossover with Yu Yu Hakusho, note that the similarity of Sabrina's abilities to Yusuke's abilities is not coincidental…and that's all I'll say.
The organ described in this chapter is taken directly from the ride (all of them have the same organ, based off of Disneyland's). Amusingly, the organ at Disneyland is the one used in the 1960s Disney film "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea." Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's Captain Nemo's organ. I thought that was kinda neat.
And if anyone has been wondering what "that song" is, you'll find out in two chapters. I promise it will eventually be revealed.
I use the term "Creole" to describe Leota, so I'll explain its meaning here. The term "Creole" or "Louisiana Creole" historically refers to people (of any race or of mixed race) who are descendants of people who settled in Louisiana before it became a part of the U.S. (with the 1803 Louisiana Purchase). "Creole" basically encompasses a broad cultural group of people from a variety of races, but usually who have a Spanish or French background. Although it isn't discussed in the story, Leota is racially mixed: she is of African, French, and English origin, with her ancestors having settled in Louisiana prior to it becoming a state.
Next chapter:
On to the next season! Sabrina and Salem take on the Winter Garden, hoping to survive the (literal) pitfalls it contains. As the situation over a collapsing floor worsens, can the team make it out alive?