Amy Anderson felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Bobby Thomas had just taken her to her senior prom, and they had been named the King and Queen. The night was filled with tears, of course; senior prom meant that the class of '69 would soon be graduating, and everyone would go off to college or jobs, and maybe never see each other again.

"Bobby?" Amy said as they drove home. She brushed a lock of brown hair out of her eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I had a real great time tonight," she said, leaning on his shoulder.

"Me too. It's really sad that we're all goin' away."

"Bobby? You'll write to me every day, won't you?" Amy asked hopefully.

"Of course! And as soon as I'm done with basic training, we can be together again." Amy smiled, and there was silence in the car again. But then…

"Bobby! Watch out!"

Something – they couldn't tell what – was in the road. It looked like a man, standing in the middle of the road, trying to hitchhike. But he looked strange…his eyes were a bright red, and there seemed to be a ghostly blue about him…

Bobby hit the brakes, and the old Chevy he had borrowed from his dad started to swerve. The kids were too scared to notice that, when the car fishtailed, the rear passed right through the man.

The car went off the road and crashed into something.

A gate.

Amy was thrown from the car.

When Bobby regained consciousness minutes later, he saw where he was.

The old house that everyone said was haunted. He had crashed right into the front gate.

And on the other side was Amy's body, in a pool of blood.

"Oh god," Bobby gasped, and got out of the wrecked car. He tried to open the gate, but nothing worked.

All he could do was watch as his girlfriend died a slow, painful death, her beautiful pink prom dress with a sequin collar staining with blood. As the teenager sobbed, blood slowly and inconspicuously seeped from the cracks in the ground.

Rick came to a door that was surrounded by a green glow.

"Come on in…I don't bite," the voice said, and Rick pushed the old door open with his hand.

It was like stepping into a gypsy's tent at a carnival. The room was filled with rugs, drapes, and all sorts of oddities that were meant to help make contact with the dead. In the middle of the room was a table covered with a deep purple cloth, and a large cushy chair.

"Hello?" Rick called.

"Right here," the voice replied.

Rick looked down, and his jaw dropped.

Sitting on the table was a crystal ball, filled with a green light. But it was also filled with a woman's head.

The woman in the crystal ball had bright red lipstick on, and her eyes were accented with dark shadow. She smiled mischievously at Rick.

"Take a seat," she offered, and he obediently plopped into the chair, still in awe at this woman.

"What…who…" he started, but she interrupted him.

"I am Madame Leota. Resident Psychic and Fortune teller at Gracey Manor. You must be Rick." Rick nodded, and looked around the room for any wires or mirrors. Maybe this was just a trick.

"Oh, this is real," Leota said, as if reading his mind. Maybe she was.

"But how? None of this makes any-"

"Does everything in life have to make sense, boy! Look at this place! Mysterious deaths, strange paintings, ME! Don't you get it!"

Rick stared blankly at her.

"Oh, for the love of-…this mansion is haunted. The Haunted Mansion, if you will. Yes, I spent thirty-odd years thinking that one up. It's kind of hard to do anything else besides think when you're stuck in a crystal ball."

"So…can you tell me what exactly is up with this place?" Rick said, trying to tell himself that he wasn't going crazy.

"It all started with William Gracey murdering his wife. He had-"

"So he DID kill her!" Rick said, now interested in the story.

"Don't interrupt!" Leota snapped at him, "Anyways…he had just found out that he was going to lose all of his money after the end of the Civil War. He hastily became engaged to a woman named Meadow, and shortly after they drew up the monetary agreements and hours before her marriage, she disappeared. The girl was later found dead. Locked in a trunk in the attic. Suffocated.

Everyone suspected William, because he had just obtained Meadow's fortune. The people of New Orleans were furious about Meadow's death, and confronted William about it. When he refused to tell them anything, they became even more suspicious.

That's when the mob formed.

Carrying torches, pitchforks, and anything else they could kill a man with, they stormed to the mansion and demanded that William be killed. But of course, he wouldn't go. He wanted to stop them, by all means necessary.

Against my will, he broke into my room and started looking through my spell books. William found one that he believed would kill everyone trying to stop him. When he said it, clouds filled the air, and blood began to rain from the sky. The hundreds of people there died painfully. Every single one.

And unbeknownst to William, everyone inside as well, including me.

When William finally realized that he had not only killed everyone outside, but his staff and friends in the house as well, he was horrified. He blamed it on me, and attempted to bring me back to life with more magic.

He again, failed, and his failure led to what you see before you – me, trapped in my crystal ball.

The effects of William's magic were not good for the house. They brought back the spirits of those who he had killed. But they were twisted, deranged, and evil. They overpowered him, and hung him in the attic above the portrait gallery. And the evil magic continued to grow, and become stronger, soon transforming the mansion with it.

Now, whenever someone dies in the Mansion grounds, their soul is trapped here forever. In a few days, they lose themselves and become one of the mindless ghouls here.

It will happen to Tyler soon, too."

Rick groaned. This was just too much.

"I hate this job."

A/N: Amy and Bobby were created by me.