"Good call." Mulder said, turning the page and beginning to read again. "Everything was fine for the first ten years they lived in the house. He'd married my great-grandmother shortly before moving in, and by the end of the first ten years they'd had the first three of their six children, the youngest of whom was my grandfather. Life was good on their private island, even though they had to go to the mainland for all of their needs.

"Then one night, while my great-grandfather was away on business, everything changed. My grandfather was only five that night, but he still remembers everything and told me everything too. It was a stormy night, but the moon was full-"

"Does it really say that?" I demanded to know. I trusted him more than when I met him, but I was still suspicious.

"Yeah. Right there.' He pointed a finger at the words "stormy" and "moon." "Satisfied?"

When Scully and I both nodded, he went on. "- but the moon was so he could see the beach clearly despite the rain. While looking out the window he thought that he saw a ship, but it was too misty to be real, so he ran to tell his mama about it, sure she'd tell him it was a bad dream- "

"A nightmare." I corrected.

"But to his surprise she saw it too. She ruffled his hair and told him that it was probably the wreck of the Isadore, a ship that had sank off of the shoals in 1845. People had been seeing it ever since. My grandfather thought it was nifty, so he and his older brothers crowded the window to see it."

"That's not the Isadore out there." Scully objected.

Mulder ignored her. "Once the ship got closer, my great-grandmother became alarmed. For one thing, it didn't look like the drawings of the Isadore. For another it was stopping. Once the first of the ghosts got out onto the beach, she gathered up the boys and hid on the third floor."

"Well, at least we know her grandfather survived it, or she wouldn't be writing the journal." I sighed.

"And while they were up there, the ghosts tore up the island, leaving not even a square foot of the sand undisturbed."

"But they didn't bother the house?" Scully asked anxiously.

"Shhh. There's more." Mulder admonished. "My great-grandmother was understandably upset, and demanded that the family leave the island. Predictably, he refused, insisting that the ghosts wouldn't be back. For ten years he was almost right. The ghost who dug up the islands during the full moons put in a few visit, but the ghostly pirate ship didn't return. At least not for ten years.

"When it came back, the ghosts came into the house and tore things up in one room. And they kept coming back, every ten years during the October full moon, each time adding another room to those they would ransack.

"I've only seen the ghosts once, when I was three. It was scary. They killed the gardener-"

"I thought that ghosts weren't able to kill anyone!" I exclaimed, frightened by the idea. Markie jumped.

"They can sure make it look like it, though." Scully muttered. I shot her a look, but she didn't explain.

"My father said that it was an accident, his falling down the stairs like that, but... Old Henry never would have fallen if not for them. He shouted about how the ghosts shouldn't be able to control our lives with fear...and then he fell, breaking his neck. If that's not the ghosts' fault, then, I don't know whose it is. And the next day when they took our pictures they scolded me for not smiling. As if I should be happy the ghosts hadn't killed us all. Even at three I knew it wasn't something to be happy about, even if my father didn't.

"We stayed hidden when the ghosts came that night, but I'm afraid of what happens when they run out of rooms and find us. What if they really did hurt Henry because he confronted them? Will we have any choice but to when they find us? They're almost to the third floor now, just one more room on the second floor, so there are fewer places to hide. Mama is trying to convince Daddy to leave the island but he's as stubborn as his grandfather. They're supposed to be here the next full moon. Tomorrow. I'm afraid."

"And?" Scully asked when he didn't say anything else.

"October 14th, 1933 – We're leaving tomorrow."

"That's it?" She asked, sounding annoyed. "How helpful."

"How many rooms on the third floor?" I asked.

"Apropos of nothing." Mulder said sardonically.

"How many rooms?" I persisted.

"Five bedrooms and a bathroom." Scully replied.

"You're sure?"

"Yes." She said, giving me a puzzled look when I groaned. "Why?"

"They attack the house every ten years, adding a room each time...there was only one room left on the second floor and six on the third...she wrote that 70 years ago..."

"Oh my God." Scully breathed.

"Looks like we get to find out what happens when the ghosts run out of rooms." Mulder said grimly.