Exiting the Winter Garden, Sabrina thought how strange it was, that one moment, she was standing in a stone-shod garden, and the next found her standing in a plush, austere hallway. With the company of those sentient statues, of course. I can't forget the moving busts.
She sighed slightly, shifting her weight from one foot to another as she scanned the hallway. "Where do we go next, Leota?"
The aura within crystal ball shifted and rippled as Leota thought. "Well, we've covered the first floor, so the next logical step would be to go to the Upstairs Hallway so we can start on the second floor." She stopped for a moment. "The door is the last one in the hallway, on your right," she added thoughtfully.
Sabrina gazed at the Hallway's end, not enjoying the look of it. The white-painted wood and yellow wallpaper abruptly changed into a harsh stone doorway, most likely leading to the outside: a carriage house or a gazebo or something, or maybe to the basement. But, true to Leota's word, there was a door right next to the stone arch.
Sabrina eagerly reached for the knob. Anything to get away from this tomb-like door. I don't like the look of it. A sharp shock jolted her arm. "Ouch!"
Leota sighed. "Then my suspicions have been confirmed. We're not done with the first floor yet."
"What do you mean?" Salem demanded. "You said we were done. What other rooms could there possibly be?"
"You're standing in front of it," Leota informed them.
Wincing, Sabrina turned to face the stone archway. "You don't mean there. That's not a room, is it?"
"Not exactly. We have to explore the grounds. Come on!"
The archway led to a metal door, crackling with Thorne's trademark energy barrier. To Sabrina's disappointment, it melted before her fingers. I don't want to go outside! It's bound to be as dangerous—or even more—than in here!
Once she'd tugged the creaky iron door open, the small group stepped into a cold chamber constructed of rough-hewn stone. Torches mounted in black metal brackets lit themselves spontaneously upon their arrival.
"It looks like we're heading for the dungeons," Salem pessimistically remarked.
Sabrina walked forward as the chamber indicated, then turned to the right. The sound of her boots echoed off the stone walls, reminding her of the passage from Leota's boudoir into the rest of the Mansion.
Ghosts began swarming from the wall in front of them. Salem watched with narrowed eyes as Sabrina fired blast after blast from the Beacon, not halting until she was quite sure no more were coming. Sabrina shivered. She could feel a cold draft breezing from the entrance to their left.
She bit her lip. Don't have a choice, do I? Wrapping her arms around her torso, she began walking forward. She walked slowly, however, to postpone her arrival at whatever awaited on the other side of the door.
Sabrina had no idea what time it was—if time even had a concrete meaning in this place. None of the mansion's clocks seemed to work, as they continually pointed to 'thirteen o'clock.' But she knew it was sometime after nightfall, for a glance out the windows in previous rooms had informed her that a dark gray, nearly black, pallor blanketed the sky.
How late, she couldn't tell. The Detective had no idea of knowing how much time had passed while she had been on the case; hours, certainly, had flown by, but how many? One thing was for sure: she was not going to school tomorrow…provided she lived to tomorrow.
I wonder what would happen to this place in the daytime? Would it be any less scary? Will the sun shine the next day? Or will it be dark and gloomy, like today? I'd find out if I took a nap…
She rubbed at her eyes, feeling as though invisible weights were tugging at them.
The idea of a nap was tempting, but two factors hindered Sabrina from a much-deserved break: one, the very fact that she was in a haunted mansion, and second, that the few hours' sleep she might get would be sufficient for Thorne to either undo her work, or devise some new way to bedevil her. How do I know that he can't just track me down? Plus, I can't just stop a case because I get tired. I have to keep going and solve this case. I have to.
Shaking herself from her reverie, Sabrina turned the door's handle stepped outside. It was raining. Not enough to make her sopping wet, but enough of a drizzle to ensure discomfort. It also appeared that she had stepped into some sort of graveyard.
"Lovely," she muttered under her breath.
She began forward, eyes scanning her new surroundings. The cemetery was vast, extending for what could be an acre to her untrained eye, but the portion she had stepped into was walled in. In this little section (The family plot, maybe, she guessed), the pathway leading from the door she'd exited forked to the far wall, and wound around a knoll in the middle. Graves were arranged haphazardly, with small gnarled trees keeping silent watch. Her eyes rested on a plot of land, strangely bare, to the western side of the Graveyard. Strange…why would there be no graves there? They seem to have had no shortage of corpses to bury here… She chuckled to herself with grim humor.
Sabrina decided to take the road that led up to the top of the knoll. Lips thinned, she hunched over slightly in an effort to keep herself dry, and set forward.
While examining the Graveyard, the Spirit Detective had failed to notice a marble bust on a pedestal to her right. She had also failed to notice the flickering movement of the stone eyes when she stopped by it.
"Hey! Hey!"
Thinking it was Salem or Leota calling to her, Sabrina continued on.
"Hey, I'm talking to you! Don't move away!"
Confused, Sabrina stopped. "Salem, was that you?" she whispered, in the same tone she'd used, asking him if he'd opened the front gate.
"No," he whispered back, shifting in her backpack.
"L-leota?"
"No, honey child," Leota smiled, having already recognized the voice.
Sabrina's mouth moved for a moment, as if trying to decide what to say. "Then w-"
"That would be me."
Sabrina turned around, to face the marble bust on the pedestal, finally noticing it. Her jaw dropped slightly. "What the-"
The bust winked at her. "Yes'm, that would be me."
Sabrina's knees trembled as she felt like collapsing on them. The bust was of a man with a lean, oval-shaped face, a thin mustache, and pomaded hair slicked back. "No need to be alarmed, miss; I just need you to do me a favor."
Salem had crawled out of the backpack, and was quivering on her shoulder, huddling next to her head. I really hope he doesn't say anything inopportune right now…
"What kind of favor?" she tried to ask casually. If this involves another hitchhiker in my backpack, the answer's no.
"Can you wake up the members of my singing group for me? They're scattered around the Graveyard, and you see," he chuckled, "I'm not exactly in a condition to go find them."
"Your singing group," Sabrina repeated disbelievingly.
"Yes, indeed, we're known as the 'Phantom Five'." He winked again. "Came up with the name myself."
"No, you didn't!" came an indignant cry from her backpack. "I did, and you had better take that back, Thurl!"
Sabrina carefully opened her backpack, lifting out the crystal ball, which she carefully cradled in her arms. Leota, looking lovely as ever, gave 'Thurl' a petulant pout.
Sabrina gave the psychic a quizzical look. "You want to tell me what's going on?"
Leota sighed discontentedly. "Sabrina and Salem, meet Theodore Gracey. Thurl, meet Sabrina Spellman and Salem…erm…"
"Saberhägen," Salem supplied.
'Thurl'…or 'Theodore Gracey'…looked at the cat interestedly. "Is that Dutch?"
"Scandinavian, actually."
"HELLO?" Sabrina cried indignantly. "Can anyone explain this to me?"
Leota sighed again, much like Drell did when disciplining Sabrina after one of her misadventures. "This is Theodore Gracey…former Master George Gracey's younger brother, and Edward Gracey's uncle."
"Call me Uncle Thurl," he insisted.
Leota glowered at the interruption. "But family and close friends knew him as 'Thurl.' He and some friends…"
"And Algie, too, don't forget."
"…As well as his son, Algernon," Leota gritted, "were members of what you'd call a 'barbershop quintet.' They came to me for a name, and because the unusual air that Gracey Manor had—even back then—I suggested the name 'the Phantom Five'. And would you stop interrupting me?"
"And it was an excellent name, too, Lee," Uncle Theodore soothed, ignoring her demand. "Our fans loved it. And then we got killed and turned-"
"That will be enough for now," Leota interrupted hastily. "Find the other members, you say? All right Thurl, we'll be back. And don't call me 'Lee'!" she hissed as the Detective turned to leave.
Uncle Thurl watched the odd group leave, as he softly began to hum. "I wonder…" he mused.
Meanwhile, on the top of the knoll, purple fire quietly enveloped a small heap of bones lying in the broken remains of a coffin. The coffin lay in a small, shallow trench that must have served as a hasty grave. No tombstone marked the resting place… an unhallowed grave.
The bones carefully reassembled themselves. Leaping from its grave, the newly reformed skeleton gave a dry hiss of a laugh. It snatched up the lid of its coffin, holding it as a shield. It laughed: a hideous, dry, cackling sound.
"Sa-BRI-na," it giggled in its dry, hissing voice. "Come, Sa-BRI-na."
The Spirit Detective, in the meantime, had wandered down the pathway, and discovered the bust of…
"Ned Nub," Sabrina read. "Huh. Uh…time to wake up!" She stared blankly at Ned's small, round impassive face. Nothing happened. "Ummm…hello?" Sabrina tried again. "Good…er…evening!" Still no response—the statue was as lifeless as a statue should be. Sabrina groaned and slouched forward, tired. She leaned against the statue, resting a hand on its base. Suddenly, Ned's face flickered, becoming mobile.
"Thank you, dear," he crooned.
Sabrina blinked. "You're welcome." Ned began to stretch his neck this way and that, humming as though out of practice. She shrugged, while Salem snickered.
Leota grinned. "This should get interesting."
A few seconds after the group left Ned, Sabrina skidded to a halt. A noise like pieces of a terra cotta pot being dropped on the floor filled her ears, along with a high-pitched voice whispering, "Sa-BRI-na…"
Sabrina shook. "What was that?"
Leota pursed her lips. "No time to investigate. We've got to hurry and find the other members of the Phantom Five. I have a feeling that Thurl and his boys may be the key to our getting out of the Graveyard."
Biting her lips to avoid screaming in frustration, Sabrina continued down the road. The group soon discovered…
"Phineas P. Pock," Sabrina read with slight distaste, eyeing the pockmarked, weak-chinned face of Phineas. Well, I guess the combination of dashing good looks and musical talent wasn't really invented until the boy bands of today…
"Alliterative," Salem noted.
"So…should I just try touching the statue again?" Sabrina mused, ignoring the cat.
"That would be my guess. Try it and see what happens," urged Leota.
Upon brushing her fingers against the statue's base, Phineas' formerly motionless face twitched in life. "My thanks to you," he sang, much like his friend Ned had done. And just like Ned, he quickly ignored Sabrina to begin exercising his vocal cords.
Rolling her eyes slightly, the teenage witch began walking away, before she suddenly halted. The strange noise of something—stone, terra cotta or bone—being dropped filled Sabrina's ears. What IS that? Where is it coming from? And who's laughing? Is it one of the Phantom Five? That laughter is so creepy…
She shivered as they hurried on down the path, seeking out the next singing bust. The small group found him soon enough.
"Hmmm…Cousin Algernon," Sabrina read from his name plaque.
"Little Algie!" Leota smiled in recognition.
Sabrina and Salem scrutinized this bust. 'Little Algie' had a skinnier face than his father, with thinner hair, and premature wrinkles.
"My gratitude is yours," he warbled in a surprisingly high-pitched tone.
"Aww! Sabrina, you've got a bevy of admirers here," Salem teased.
"You know what? Bite me."
"Yum." The cat teasingly licked his chops.
Sabrina sighed, and stiffened as she listened to the strange rattling noise again. Failing to guess what it could possibly be, she bit her lip and moved on. Is it my imagination or did it sound like it was getting closer?
The last bust, nearly at the top of the knoll, was of…
"Rollo Rumkin." Rollo's square face and prominent chin was a face only a mother could love (with his name being the kind only a mother would think of). "Well, you're the last one, so here goes!"
"My unending thanks…"
Suddenly, as one great swell of voice, the Phantom Five crooned together. "Sabrina—thank you!" Torches placed near the door to the house burst into flame, and lanterns flickered from the posts where they kept watch over these beloved dead. Under the Spirit Detective's feet, the ground shook and swelled as the Phantom Five launched into song:
"When the crypt doors creak and the tombstones quake, spooks come out for a swinging wake, happy haunts materialize and began to vocalize… grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize!"
"That's it! That's the song I kept hearing!"
"Now don't close your eyes and don't try to hide, or a silly specter may sit by your side; shrouded in a daft disguise, they pretend to terrorize, grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize!"
"It's somewhat of a favorite among the residents," Leota explained. "We feel it embodies our unique philosophy of death."
"As the moon climbs high o'er the old oak tree, spooks a'rive for the midnight spree; creepy creeps with eerie eyes stay to shriek and harmonize…grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize!"
"Catchy," Salem remarked, his tail lashing in time.
"When you hear the knell of a requiem bell, weird glows gleam where spirits dwell; restless bones etherialize, rise as spooks of ev'ry size… If you would like to join our jamboree, there's a simple rule that's compulsory; mortals pay a token fee. Rest in peace, the haunting's free…so hurry back, we'd like your com-pa-ny!"
"It's wonderful," Sabrina whispered as the voices died. "In a…weird way."
Leota smiled. "In a way, they give this place character, huh?"
"I don't see what's so wonderful," Salem muttered.
Sabrina playfully swatted him. "Jealous."
On the other side of the Graveyard, whilst the Phantom Five sang, a building had risen from below ground, into the empty patch of green Sabrina had commented on. The building waited, silently, for its first visitors in years to come…
"What do you think that rumbling was?" Sabrina asked. It felt like an earthquake, but it couldn't have been…
"Bog gas?" Salem quipped. "You know what they say about all that air."
"What, that you're full of it?" Leota remarked sarcastically. "I'm guessing we unlocked the next…er…'room.' If it's what I think it is, we need to go over to the far side of the cemetery, near that old oak tree."
"I'll head there in just a minute," Sabrina asserted. "I just want to climb this little hill to get a better vantage point, that's all." Not heeding Leota's grumbling, the blonde climbed the cobblestone path winding up the hill.
Sabrina's ears picked up the same sound of broken terra cotta shards being dropped onto a stone surface…or something like it. The top of the hill did provide a rather good view of the Graveyard, and Sabrina was able to pick out a dark building to the west that she hadn't seen before. "Oh, that's what happened…" she murmured.
"Uh, Sabrina?" Salem interrupted, his voice wary and dark.
"Yeah?" she replied, not paying full attention.
"We have company."
Sabrina paused, turning to scan the area.
A fiendish cackle drifted in the air. A skeleton, carrying a coffin lid, climbed out of a heap of nearby shrubbery, a small pile of bones in his other hand. "Sa-BRI-na…" it called, voice filled with malice.
Normally, Sabrina would have screamed, and immediately teleported herself away. It is not to say that she had become deadened to the horrors provided by the Mansion, but that she was becoming more and more acclimated to it. She was almost used to monsters leaping out from every corner, stretching to claw her fragile body to shreds.
But instead, she fired a blast of energy from the Beacon, muttering a curse when the skeleton ducked behind the coffin lid to block it. The Spirit Detective paused, unsure of what to do next. She ducked nonetheless when the skeleton lowered its shield to throw a handful of sharp-looking bones at her.
Popping up, she decided to take no chances. "TAKE THIS!" she shouted, withdrawing more energy than she had previously. With a rapidity that surprised even herself, she flung the pulsing mass of spiritual energy towards her enemy. Sabrina's heart sped as she watched the skeleton fall to the ground, its bones loosely collapsing in a disjointed pile. The coffin lid clattered to the ground, now useless.
Sabrina cautiously edged forward, toeing the remains. The bones crumbled into dust.
"So, that was the thing doing that creepy laughing?" she asked, voice shaking.
"Reminded me of that creepy Gollum guy from Lord of the Rings," Salem noted. "He sure had that Andy Serkiss imitation down pat."
Sabrina gave him a look.
"Precioussss…"
Sabrina, shivering against the cold drizzle that still fell, traipsed up and down the slopes of the Graveyard, searching for the best path to reach the strange building. She sneezed. "I'm going to catch my death of cold out here," she muttered, shivering again. "Well, either out here or in there," she mumbled disconsolately. Not even the scrap of a Death Certificate they found could cheer her up.
Sabrina looked expectantly at the sky. It's still raining. I'd hoped that it was part of Thorne's nastiness, but it seems that Mother Nature decided to be nasty herself today…
"Why don't we visit Thurl for a moment, honey?" Leota suggested, as if trying to remove the girl's mind from unpleasant thoughts.
On the way to the Graveyard's entrance, they stopped by another trio—of ghosts, that is. The girl, cat, and spirit in a crystal ball stared at the three ghosts before them.
One portly fellow was dressed in a top hat and cape, carrying a carpetbag. The second of his two friends was tall and skeletal in a tattered suit, and the third was extremely short and hairy, with a ball and chain around his foot, and a beard to rival Rip Van Winkle's.
Upon seeing the group of (mostly) living creatures, they immediately stuck out their thumbs in the manner of a hitchhiker.
Leota sighed in mock-exasperation. "What do you fellows want now?"
"What, indeed, madam?" asked the portly ghost eagerly. "Sojourning in this provincial Graveyard, my dear lady, has become so drearily tedious over the past century, that we have begun to investigate opportunities of…"
"Can we come with you?" asked the shortest ghost. "Become right boring, this 'as."
Sabrina blinked. And I was worried about the singing busts wanting to come along…
Leota rolled her eyes. "The answer is no, fellows." She turned to her companions. "Sabrina, Salem, I'd like you to meet Phineas, Ezra, and Gus, our residential Hitchhiking Ghosts."
"A pleasure," Ezra noted, as he tipped his hat at Sabrina.
She bobbed a quick curtsey, grateful that at least some of the ghosts were paying attention to her, even if it was just to ask a favor. "I'm afraid, gentlemen," she began, "that we're going for a quick jaunt on the grounds, and then returning to the house. Our…er…mission…requires us to not leave for some time," she explained, trying to choose her words carefully, desperately trying not to insult them.
"Oh." Phineas looked crestfallen.
"Well," Gus shrugged, "allers next time, eh?"
"I suppose," Sabrina hazarded, shooting a glance at Salem as if to say, "Keep quiet!" The cat gave her a slightly baleful look, then yawned and stretched slightly, as if to show his complete indifference.
"Well, I shall bid you good evening, ladies," Ezra tipped his hat and slightly bowed.
Sabrina curtseyed slightly and Leota bobbed her head as the little group went off. "It's weird," Sabrina mused as they headed down the path to the stone doorway at the side of the house, "that Ezra—the scariest-looking one—should turn out to be the best-mannered of them all."
Leota gave her a small smile as they neared Uncle Thurl's niche. "That just goes to show you, that like in the real world, things aren't always what they seem."
As soon as the group re-assembled in front of Uncle Thurl, he congratulated them on having awakened the members of the quintet. "If only…" he muttered.
"What is it, Uncle Theodore?" Sabrina asked, having grown slightly fond of the singer.
"Miss Sabrina, could you do me another favor? Would it be too much for you to pick up the rest of my group and move them here?"
Sabrina's face went pale. "Move them?"
Nearly a half-hour later, Sabrina finished lugging the last bust and stand to Uncle Theodore's position, carefully arranging them.
"Perfect," Theodore beamed. "Now…"
"No more favors, Thurl," Leota warned, "the girl has work to do."
"Well, I just wanted to thank her for her help, and maybe sing her a little something," Theodore replied, in a mock-hurt tone. The other members of the group murmured in agreement.
"What about that song you sang before?" Sabrina asked. "What was the title…" she frowned.
"Grim, Grinning Ghosts?" Theodore supplied helpfully.
Sabrina snapped her fingers. "That's it."
"Your wish, my dear, is our command," Theodore nodded, and began the warm-up. The Phantom Five, at long last reunited, began humming, lost in their own world. Slowly, they entered into the macabre, yet cheerful tune.
"Thanks!" Sabrina chirped. She pouted upon not receiving an answer, the statues now solely focused on harmonizing. "All the ghosts keep doing that. It kinda ticks me off."
"It isn't you," Leota soothed. "They just happen to be sort of lost in their own little worlds—interaction between the spiritual and physical planes are difficult for the weaker ghosts."
Sabrina paused. "Goodbye," she whispered to the Phantom Five.
As her group walked further down the path, the busts stopped singing, and smiled after her.
"You think she can do it?" Ned wondered, turning slightly to Phineas and Rollo.
"I'm positive," Theodore said firmly. "If anyone can free us from this curse, then it's Sabrina Spellman. Mark my words."
A fan favorite: the ever-popular Singing Busts. They actually are named "the Phantom Five," and do have the names I used above. (Having "Uncle Theodore" as Edward Gracey's uncle was a flight of fancy on my part.) The voice actor of the main bust (the one I designated as Theodore Gracey) is none other than the legendary Thurl Ravenscroft, whose name I used in association with his character. (Thurl was also the voice of Tony the Tiger from the Frosted Flakes commercials!)
"Grim Grinning Ghosts" is the Haunted Mansion theme song, with music by Buddy Baker, and the lyrics by X. Atencio.
The Hitchhiking Ghosts have finally made their appearance! Yes, they are named Phineas, Ezra, and Gus. Which one's your favorite? Mine's Gus, I think, because of the Haunted Mansion movie. "He must be psychic!"
Next chapter:
In the Mausoleum, Sabrina is put to the test: can she withstand a gauntlet of horrors until the bell tolls? More importantly, can she withstand the calf-deep sewage that covers the lower levels?