But now I know for certain that the ghosts of the Graceys do continue to dwell in this place. I've seen, heard, and sensed things here this past week that I would have never believed before. Books falling from their shelves, chairs rocking, a candelabra floating, and marble busts moving, all by themselves. I've heard knocking on the doors in the middle of the night, a piano and harp playing here in the music parlor, people talking and laughing in the dining room, a woman talking in Lily Gracey's sitting room, moaning in the guest room hallway, and a heart beating in the attic. I've also sensed strange icy-like chills in almost every room in this mansion, especially in the master bedroom.
However, the most frightening thing is the sight I witnessed tonight. I looked out of my bedroom window and saw the spirit of Lily Gracey walking along the banks of the river. It's hard to describe the sight, but she was somewhat surrounded by a blue glowing aura. She had on a Victorian lavender summer dress that had tears and rips in it. She carried an orange parasol in her hands that was similarly shredded. Her hair was in an unusual style, and also somewhat disheveled. However, what haunts me was her face. I'll never forgot that look I saw on her face as long as I live. Her beautiful, once happy and smiling, face had a grim, sad, and forlorn look. She looked like she was in mourning. I remember I dashed out of my room from fear at seeing her materialize, and ran downstairs into the foyer. I then halted as I witnessed George Gracey's ghost hanging from a noose tied to the chandelier. I stood there, frozen at the sight of the specter before I screamed and ran here into the music parlor.
But, even though they frightened me, it's not the presence of the Graceys' spirits that I'm worried about. I fear the house, the house itself. This mansion is alive. The wallpaper seems to form horrid looking faces, and they constantly stare, never taking their gaze off of you. There seems to be evil grinning faces everywhere: on the banisters, in the woodwork, in the ceiling patterns. This place is so terrible, I don't know how even the Graceys managed to live here back in the 1890s.
Every room in this house has something dark about it. The portraits in the portrait hall always seem to give you a cold, lifeless stare. And there is something very strange and bizarre about the portraits. Earlier tonight, the paintings of Master Gracey, Lily, Emily, Madame Leota, and the mansion's musician, Wolfgang Furlong, all changed into horrid images as I looked upon them. The portrait of Gracey turned into a skeleton with a noose wrapped tightly around his neck. The portrait of Lily showed her forlorn-looking and disheveled, like her spirit I saw earlier tonight, with her dress and parasol ripped and a large bloody cut on her left cheek; and a large alligator with bloody teeth appeared behind her. Emily in her wedding dress slowly aged and transformed into a rotting corpse. The portrait of Madame Leota holding a crystal ball in her hands, morphed to show her decapitated; with her head inside the crystal ball. And the portrait of Mr. Furlong changed to reveal a piano wire wrapped tightly around his neck. All of the portraits are just horrible and morbid; I could hardly even bare to look at them as they changed. The evil of this house has probably possessed these paintings.
And then there is the ballroom and dining room. These two rooms look like they were still frozen in time. There is sheet music still on the pipe organ's console, the covers for the furniture have been taken off, and there still is a deck of cards scattered around on a table – its game never finished. The table in the dining room is all set with the finest wine glasses and good China dishes. Now they are all covered in cobwebs and dust from age and neglect.
The conservatory, once abundant with an array of exotic and beautiful plant life, is filled with withered and lifeless flora. The room's glass is obviously cracked and broken in some areas. Tables and chairs in there have been overturned or scattered around.
Although, one of the most frightening places is the attic. Hundreds and hundreds of objects are littered around the place: furniture, silverware, dishes, suits, dresses, sea chests, trunks, dressers, statues, books, even musical instruments and old sailing navigation equipment. It's a place that seems to echo with long-past memories.
Then there is also the séance parlor. I think it is one of the most bizarre places in this whole mansion. The room is almost draped completely in black, with the exception of a small lamp, a chair, and a crystal ball on top of a table. Apparently, Master Gracey was believed to have been very interested in the supernatural and occult, so he had even hired a spirit medium and fortune-teller named Madame Leota. I don't know much about this Leota woman; the other researchers who had spent the week here with me either didn't know much about her either, or they didn't tell me a lot about her. But, many people believed her to be a very cold and sly woman. I've been told that both Lily and Emily had detested her, because the old medium said wicked lies about the two women behind their backs. But anyhow, Gracey was apparently so obsessed with spiritual contact that he had turned one of the upstairs parlors into the séance room, where he and Leota held séances.
However, I absolutely detest the master bedroom the most. It is the coldest part of the house. It feels thirty degrees colder in there than it does in any of the other rooms. Everything is covered with dust; items that brought the Graceys happy memories: Lily's music box she received from George on their second wedding anniversary and Master Gracey's pocket watch. Now they are only painful reminders of the Graceys.
I just wish this night were over. I can now hear the clock out in the foyer chiming midnight. Won't morning ever come? I want to escape from this house's evil clutches. That's what this mansion is…evil. It's just like a vicious beast or predator. It lured the unsuspecting Graceys into its depths, only to make them perish in horrible ways. Their ghosts are now prisoners within this house, trying to ward off visitors so they don't meet a similar fate. And now this mansion waits for anyone foolish enough to enter. But I will not let…