Sabrina shut the door of the Museum behind her, and wiped her face on her sleeve. How long has this mission gone on? I slept a little, ate a little, and drank, but I can't go on like this forever…

"I'm bored," announced Salem.

Leota swiveled in the bag to face him, staring incredulously. "Please tell me that you're trying to start a conversation," she begged. "We've been chased by monsters, fought against ghosts, nearly been killed repeatedly, and you're bored?"

"He also says that when we're watching the news," Sabrina shared. "We think he has the attention span of a goldfish."

"I do not—ooh! I think I saw a mouse!"

Before Sabrina could retort, the cat jumped out of the bag in one fluid motion, and streaked towards a small, dark shadow scampering along the hallway.

"Salem, get back here! You can't go off here alone! SALEM!" Sabrina shouted. Oh, screw it. The Spirit Detective immediately began running after her familiar.

The mouse twisted along the corridors, as the girl and cat strove to keep up. She thought she recognized doors and hallways, but she couldn't be sure. Finally, the group skidded to a halt as Salem cornered his prey. The cat dove, claws extended; the mouse scampered away, to a miniscule mouse hole in the wall.

"I almost had him!" Salem wailed.

Sabrina shook her head and sighed. "Leota, do you recognize where we are?" She squinted. "It's too dark to tell, but it looks familiar."

"This would be the wing devoted to the Gracey children. That door on your right leads to the Toy Room, remember?"

"That's where Emily and Daniel are," the teenage witch grinned.

"Correct. And on your right is the Children's Room."

"…Can we go in?"

"I should think we could. Try the door."

Sabrina raised her hand to the doorknob, feeling fire wash over her skin. The feeling subsided, and the doorknob yielded to her touch. As she opened it, she briefly wondered what they would find.

The darkened room was built on the side of the house, with a sloping roof on the right-hand side. The walls and floor were bare, made of plain, aged boards. There were perhaps ten iron cots with rotting mattresses on either side of the room. The only other furniture was a rocking chair and a few washstands with cracked porcelain pitchers and basins.

Windows on the right-hand wall displayed more of the gloomy, black-branched forest, and the persistent rain hammering at the grounds. Directly across from the door was a closet, an unearthly yellow light flashing like lightning in the crack below the door.

The three stared at the darkness and austerity.

"Maybe they mean a 'dark, hospitalized' Children's Room," Salem offered.

"Are you sure this isn't a contagious ward of a nineteenth-century hospital?" Sabrina blinked.

Leota gaped. "It sure has gone downhill," she murmured.

"From what?" Salem demanded.

"You know that Ambrose Gracey was the one who built Gracey Manor," Leota began.

"We've been over this four times already," Salem griped. "Yes, we know."

Leota continued, either ignoring the cat, or off in her own world. "He got married here, and brought up a family. Originally, this was their bedroom, and the Toy Room was their schoolroom…before they got old enough to have their own rooms, of course."

You know, we haven't seen any of the bedrooms. I guess that's a…good thing?

"And then when Master George inherited the house and had his own children, this room was used again."

"But why does it look like…" Sabrina trailed off.

The psychic bit her lip. "I don't really know. I guess that when Edward inherited the house, he had it renovated into a bedroom for the children of the servants. But, that doesn't really make sense…"

"I'm sure Edward would have made better living conditions," Sabrina stated.

"Yes, he would have." Leota sighed. "I guess it just adds to the mystery."

Sabrina surveyed the room again. "I don't think I like it here," she announced, and shivered. It's so cold here, and the death-smell is even worse. This room is probably the scariest out of all of them.

Salem padded around the perimeter of the room. "I don't see a light switch, Sabrina. And I don't see any monsters, either."

This doesn't add up. Something's wrong here…very, very wrong.

"Leota?" Sabrina asked softly. "Can you think of something?"

The crystal ball swirled with turquoise and cerulean as Leota meditated. Sabrina had always wondered what the misty substance inside the crystal ball was. I'm guessing now's not a good time to ask.

"Within the closet awaits much more; but it takes true courage to close that door."

"So I have to go into that closet," Sabrina murmured softly. It certainly looks really freaky…

A sudden subtle, menacing aura softly drifted towards the Detective from the door. Something's not right with that closet. "Salem, I want you to stay here."

The cat blinked. "What?"

"No, listen. Hide in the corner, or under a bed or the washstand or something. Go outside and into the Toy Room, if you want. But something very evil, very wrong is in this room, and I don't want it to affect you."

Even Salem could pick up the dark, oppressive aura permeating the room. It was not unlike Thorne's, but this had an under laced air of madness, horror, and decay. "The kids ain't alright," Sabrina muttered under her breath.

Salem stalked into a corner, where he curled into a jet-black ball. When he ducked his head into his body, nothing of the cat could be seen. Vaguely reassured, the black-robed girl cautiously walked to the door and opened it.

The closet was a coffin-like room, made of plain pine boards, and a metal rod upon which one could hang clothes. Nothing more.

Sabrina's heart pounded as she walked slowly into the room, shutting the door. Blackness surrounded her; the only light came from the crack under the door.

The hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle. Some kind of aura was slowly drifting towards her, icy and faint. Her breath came in slow shudders as she stood.

"Sabrina…something's not right here…" Leota's voice shook with a faint note of fear.

And then it hit her like an arctic wave, pounding in her ears, washing over her and threatening to pull her under.

Run.

"RUN, SABRINA! RUN NOW!"

As the wooden walls exploded in splinters and wind whistled as it was torn, Sabrina's feet propelled her down a wooden path before her, revealed once the wall was cut away. It was darker than anything she'd seen; a labyrinth of ancient rotted passageways. Rats scurried at her feet as she fled.

"Turn left!" Leota shrieked. Sabrina tore down the passageway. Whatever it was that was chasing them… it was not at all far behind.

"There's a hole! Jump!" Her foot nearly caught on the edge, but with a shriek and a push, the board crumbled away and she frantically ran. "Turn right, Sabrina, turn right!"

Arms flapping useless at her sides, running faster than she ever had at track in her old middle school.

"Watch out for another hole!"

Something metallic tore at the wind, scarring it from side to side, inches from her precious braids.

"Next, turn left!"

Leota's voice was high-pitched, terrified, panic driving her to the breaking point.

"There's another hole! And another one!"

The rats and mice squeaked and scurried at her feet, running faster than she. Salem was a cat, and these were mice.

"Left! Hole right next to it!"

It was a cat, and she was a mouse.

"Turn right, Sabrina! Turn right!"

Boots pounded the ground, running faster than Atalanta. She ran on the wings of fear.

"Left! There!"

Heart racing, spots swimming in her vision. Something moving behind her.

"Jump over the hole!"

Panic and fear swam through her veins, fueling her flight.

"Right!"

She made a clumsy turn, her boots catching on a loose board. Would a second's stumble cost Sabrina her head?

It was a dead end, and her pursuer, gone. The path had led them to the nest of the mice and rats: straw and cloth from the torn mattresses littered the ground, squeaking mice climbing through their bedding.

Sabrina collapsed upon herself, sobbing and clutching at her shoulders. The panic had fled, but the fear and memory of scarred wind and dark tunnels had not.

"Wrong turn," Leota muttered sheepishly.

Wherever the psychic had intended for the girl to go, and why, would forever be a mystery. Sabrina cocked her head, listening for the thing again.

"It's gone," Leota murmured soothingly. "Let's go back now."

It took Sabrina a few minutes to stand up, and then Leota navigated the way back, not trusting the girl to remember which way they had come.

A door lay before them, where Sabrina could remember none. Opening it, she found it to be the inside of the closet. She reached her hand out for the second door, hesitating.

Something still isn't right…

Nevertheless, she grabbed the knob, twisted it, and pushed the door open.

The dark, plain, mean little room greeted her again, a pair of familiar amber eyes watching from the corner. Had she been closer, the witch might have read gentle scorn in those eyes, but as she was, they were only two bright jewels gleaming from the shadows.

Sabrina smiled fractionally and stepped out of the doorway.

Ice blew up and down her spine, and a clammy odor clamped onto her senses, stifling them. She was overridden with panic, nausea tightening her stomach.

The Spirit Detective skidded around to see the closet door rattle and shake. A sharp metal blade suddenly buried itself into the wood, as whatever was inside tried to hack the door away. The blade pulled back, ripping off a section of the door.

The nausea worsened, blood roaring in her ears.

The blade continued to hack at the door, finally tearing the rest of the wood away. She trembled, as a shadow billowed out of the closet. Floating, filling the wall in front of her, was an emaciated figure swathed in robes of midnight blue and indigo. Sharp, bony white hands clutched a curved scythe. Sabrina stared dumbly at the wicked, gleaming blade.

Pounding filled her ears, spreading to her head. She fumbled with the Beacon, desperately trying to defend herself.

The Blue Ripper raised its scythe menacingly.

Dizziness smacked her brain and fled as the scythe swung in an arc, the air whistling in pain. The metal gleamed and Sabrina found herself skipping backwards, beribboned braids and lacy petticoats fluttering.

Soul Energy pulsed in her hands, forming into spheres hurled at the death spirit with reckless abandon.

How can I defend myself against a six-foot-long scythe? I've got to jump fast, and keep moving.

Robes swirling, the Ripper swung the scythe carelessly at her, almost from the side. She screamed and jumped half-forward, half to the side, catching her foot on an iron cot. She tumbled, falling, with the cot overturning on top of her.

Metal clashed against metal as the Ripper struck again and again at the iron bed frame. Sabrina stared for a moment, dazed from striking her head against the floorboards, before sending out a volley of three-way attacks, surrounding the death spirit on all sides.

Managing to somehow disentangle herself from the bed, Sabrina heaved, throwing the frame against the Blue Ripper. Using her momentary advantage, she launched a second volley of shots.

Around the room she ran, like a frightened little black mouse being pursued by a huge blue cat with very sharp claws. The Spirit Detective managed to (perhaps by some luck, and some skill) dodge every swipe and slash.

Salem watched incredulously as she turned a back flip over a cot, landing on her feet to fire an Ultra Shot. It would take a few more, of course to finally destroy the Ripper.

Its 'demise' was silent, yet she could have sworn she saw a gray, skeletal face open its mouth in an unvoiced howl as it was slowly torn apart into shreds of shadow.

Glass gas lamps quietly flickered into life, their jets burning modestly low. Sabrina gently collapsed to the floor afterwards, ears roaring and heart pounding. It took her quite a few minutes before she could push herself up. Silently, she made her way to the door, limbs shaking slightly. Salem padded by her feet, both ignoring the elderly, grandfatherly ghost now seated on the rocking chair, cup of tea in hand.

Sabrina slammed the door behind her, and slid down to the floor. Salem blinked, watching her closed, quiet face.

"I didn't know you could do that," he offered, hoping to cheer her up.

"Do what?" she muttered, rubbing her temple.

"Back flips. That was neat."

She shrugged. "All those years of gymnastics paid off." Sabrina grabbed the other side of her head. "Let's keep moving. Even though that death spirit's gone, I'm still getting a really bad vibe from this room."

"How about something a little more relaxing?" Leota cautiously offered. "The Sitting Room's not too far away."

Sabrina's eyes closed. "That would be great. Let's go."

Something very wrong happened here once. I can't tell what it is; I can just sense the intensity and sheer horror of it.

She rubbed the back of her neck as they walked down the hallway. "I really hate this aura-reading sometimes."

Wow. Enough action for you guys? This was the room that scared me the most in the entire game. It's not only uber-dark and scary, but there is absolutely NO warning when the chase begins. Plus, the glowing door's creepy.

The track team reference comes from the Sabrina, the Teenage Witch movie with Melissa Joan Hart, as mentioned in an earlier chapter. And the gymnastics reference comes from the ABC movie, "Sabrina Goes to Rome." She ends up in the 16th century, fighting against an evil nobleman's horde of bodyguards. Our girl uses some really cool gymnastics stunts (she does do a back flip), as well as some swordplay and some magic, to bring them down.

The Blue Ripper is the creature shown in the third chapter, and in Sab's vision in the Pantry. It's a Death Spirit. Their name is a pun on their resemblance to the Grim Reaper, and their scythes. (Get it? "Ripper," "Reaper?" Ripper like in ripping things? Ha, I kill myself with these puns!)

Next Chapter: Floating things are rather common in the Haunted Mansion, as Sabrina comes to find out. So is getting drunk, apparently…