Chapter 3: There's Room for a Thousand….

Clarisse was so upset, she hardly noticed that it was now raining, and the thunder and lightning continued as she walked down the hallway.

To her right were portraits, each very old and probably very valuable. But as she passed them, they underwent a mysterious transformation. They were originally an Egyptian queen resting on a loveseat…A majestic ship, battling waves…a Greek woman with red hair, and a beautiful young girl with black hair, resting her arm on a desk. But as Clarisse walked by, the Egyptian queen morphed into a panther creature, the ship suddenly turned skeletal, a ghost ship on black waters, the Greek woman turned into a scathing medusa, and the young black haired woman became an old white haired hag. The hallway took a right after the portraits, and Clarisse passed two white marble busts at the end of it. Their eyes seemed to follow her as she continued on her way…

Clarisse then found herself in front of a large staircase.

"Okay, I can do this. Nothing too big here…just trying to find out who killed my husband in a creepy old house that seems to be abandoned…"

But Clarisse was wrong. Dead wrong.

"Oh...my...head," Adam groaned, sitting up. After opening his eyes he squinted in the darkness for a moment before shakily standing. He had been lying on the floor of the gallery. 'How long have I been here?' he thought. Peering down at his watch, he could see that it had stopped at exactly 2:58. He shook his wrist. The hands refused to move and no quiet 'tick, tock' could be heard.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning illuminated the room for a brief second. Squelching the urge to look up, he stared at the walls, not realizing that the ladder he had brought in was missing. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called, "Hello? Henry? Anyone here?" With a sigh of frustration, he tried to slide open the nearest wall. It didn't budge. "Well there's gotta be a way out of here," he muttered to himself. "Hey!" He pounded his fist on the wall. "Hello! LET ME OUT!" With one final hit, he tumbled forward, head over feet, out of the octagonal room.

"Okay," he said slowly, standing up and dusting off his jeans. "That was a little freaky." He turned around and stared at the wall. "It must have been a trap door, right? Like a swinging dog door. And it opened. And I fell out. It happened so quickly I didn't even notice." With a short nod, he confirmed his own account. "Right."

A streak of lightning followed by a scream of thunder made him jump. Looking out the window, he could see that everyone was gone. Along with his ride home. "Clarisse will be worried sick about me if I'm not home on time...why am I talking to myself?" Somewhere to his right, he thought he heard some...thing snicker. "Must have landed harder than I thought." How did he get down there anyway? The last thing he remembered was a deep, muffled voice, and then brief pain, and then darkness.

Judging by the deluge of rain, the roads would be flooded within minutes. There was no way he could get home. Unless... He stroked his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully. "Unless I borrow one of the cranes...again." Chuckling to himself, he thought back on the time he had driven the wrecking ball home. He had almost gotten fired. But he knew the risks of driving something like that through the storm were too much. Besides, nothing good had been left behind anyway.

"I can't believe they just left me. Well, Duncan would leave me. But, sooner or later, they're bound to notice I'm gone and they'll come pick me up." Turning back to face the foyer, he noticed a fire had mysteriously started in the fireplace. He blinked. That hadn't been there before, right? "Must be some kind of automatic... system... thing that was put in for those stupid ghost tours." Laughing, he flopped down on the couch. "Now, just to sit back, relax, and listen to some tunes." He reached at he neck, but all he felt was a mark, like a large welt. "Hey!" he cried when he couldn't find his beloved headphones. "Someone jacked my MP3!" It all made sense now. "Someone tried to strangle me, stole my music, and then dumped me off the beam! This day could not get any worse!"

"Tell me about it," groaned a voice.

Adam started with a yell. Springing up, he saw three men standing by the couch. The first was tall and extremely thin, wearing a bowler derby on his bald head, a big bow tie under his chin, and a long, frayed coat over his tattered pants and well-worn shoes. The second was several inches shorter, plump, with an old top hat, and a long coat that went nearly down to his shoes, and was accompanied by a purple carpetbag. The third and final man was hardly four feet tall, with a long beard that went down past his chest. He wore a simple long shirt and had--Adam's eyes grew wide in fear--a ball and chain shackled to his ankle. "Where did you come from?"

"Well," the plump man started, "my mommy and daddy really liked each other and they-"

"Phinny," the emaciated man cut in, "don't traumatize the poor boy." He flashed Adam a skeletal, unnerving grin.

"Phinny" laughed. "I'm Phineas Queeg. These are my friends Ezra Dobbins," the tall one tipped his derby, "and Gus Gracey." Gus grabbed Adam's hand and shook it so hard he nearly fell off the couch.

"We're the welcome wagon," Gus declared.

"Uh, hi," Adam muttered, trying very hard not to give into the sudden urge to run out of the house. "I'm Adam. Adam Parker." He stared hard at the three men. Perhaps it was the flickering flames of the fire casting eerie shadows, but something about them almost looked...transparent. He blinked a few times. "Oh, yeah, definitely hit my head hard. What are you guys doing here? I thought the mansion was abandoned."

"Oh we're been here for years," explained Phineas. "Can't seem to leave the place, actually," he muttered distractedly. "Can't say we haven't tried. So, what brought you here, huh?"

Ezra bent down at his waist, peering at Adam. "Looks like a hangin'. See all the little ropey marks?"

"Uh..." Adam leaned as far back as he could with one hand protectively around his neck. "Look, I was here with my construction crew trying to restore the house and I fell. I'm just waiting for them to come back for me."

Understanding suddenly dawned on Gus's face, or rather, Adam guessed it was understanding. Facial expressions were hard to determine with that bushy beard. Finally, the dwarf spoke. "He don't get it."

"Get what?" Adam questioned slowly. The trio was giving him the creeps. "Look, I really need to let my wife know what happened. Do you have a phone I might use?"

Ezra cackled hoarsely. "The phone's been dead for years. As well as everything else around here. Get the picture?"

The young man shook his head. "No, not exactly."

The skinny specter turned to the fat phantom. "The boy's dense."

"Understatement of the century," his friend replied. He turned his round face to Adam. "You're...um... Oh, God how to put this? You have left the earthly coil and are now a member of the league of the dearly departed. Part of the innumerable caravan."

"Huh?"

Ezra decided to clarify. "You're late, as in, late for your next birthday. As in, there ain't gonna be no more birthdays. Capisce?"

The youth's jaw dropped in horror. "You mean...?"

"Bingo," cheered Gus.

After several seconds of silence Adam grinned. "Whatever. I bet this is some dumb stunt Duncan's trying to pull." Looking around the room, he yelled, "Okay, LeRoch, you can come out now!" He laughed.

Phineas groaned and put his face in his hand. "This is going to take a bit of work."