The graveyard was sort of a fenced in area in a fenced in area – it had a miniature version of the gate, very similar to the one outside of the mansion, with the brick columns on either side. He made sure that this gate wouldn't lock behind him like the stretching room had by placing a huge rock by the open gate, like a door jam.

Just as he finished putting the rock down, he heard something rustling in the bushes further into the graveyard.

Turning his attention to the noise, he cautiously walked towards the bush. As soon as he got closer, he heard a noise accompanying the rustling – whimpering.

It sounded like a puppy.

Crouching down to look in the dark shrubbery, he tried to locate the source. Rick then noticed a pair of scared yellow eyes looking at him.

"Aww…are you okay?" He called to the poor little animal. It replied by whimpering some more.

"C'mere…it's okay…I'm not going to hurt you…"

The dog suddenly leaped out of the bush, tackling him.

It was a lot bigger than Rick thought. And less fleshy, too.

The dog was no more than bone, rotting flesh, and muscle. Its eyes were gone, replaced with glowing eye sockets, and it had blood stained teeth. And it was pinning Rick down, staring hungrily at him.

"Oh, come on!" Rick groaned to no one as the dog inched its face closer. Rick rolled out of underneath the dog, and scrambled up to try and get away, but the dog grabbed a hold of his ankle. Searing pain shot through him as the dog's yellowed teeth sank into his leg. Screaming, he shook his leg wildly. The dog was big, but Rick was bigger – with one huge thrust of his leg, he sent the dog flying off into the distance, the pitiful creature yowling into the night.

Breathing heavily, covered with dirt and his leg with blood, Rick fell to the ground. He grabbed hold of his wound, and tried to staunch the bleeding. Eventually it stopped, but exhausted, tired, and physically drained, Rick collapsed on the dirt path.

When he woke up, the night was quiet, and the sky was twinkling with stars. His wound was looking a little better. As he breathed a sigh of relief, he heard a sound off in the distance. It sounded like a wolf howl.

Off in the distance, through the greenish sky and mist, he could see the dog, howling to the moon. Its silhouette stood out eerily against the flat skyline. It howled slowly, but put obvious pauses between howls. As Rick sat there holding his leg, his mind counted the number of howls.

Guess how many?

That's right. Thirteen.

As soon as the last howl finished, Rick heard a cracking noise behind him.

Turning and standing slowly, he watched in horror as some of the graves around him started to rattle slowly. The ground beneath them cracked open, and hands started to slowly emerge – skeletal, disgusting, and rotted hands. They clawed at the ground, trying to get a hold, and when they finally did, they slowly propelled themselves out of the ground. A crash on Rick's right distracted him to another emerging skeleton.

A coffin had banged out of a hearse that was stuck in the mud, and its occupant was having difficulty getting out.

But not all of the dead were zombies.

Somehow, someway, it was thirteen 'o clock again. Had he really been out that long?

Bluish spirits materialized, reliving their deaths yet again. Some of the ghosts appeared to be shooting each other with bows and arrows, others were poisoned by something in their tea, and others appeared to be sinking in quicksand while just standing in grass.

And during all of this, ghostly blood rained from the sky. It splattered on the ghosts faces, while Rick was immune to the shower of death.

Then he remembered the zombies.

Four of them were slowly approaching them. Rick quickly got on his feet and started to run through the graveyard, not knowing where he was going. Running past trees, graves, and through ghosts, he went as fast as he could to get away from the resurrected corpses. They moaned horribly, their cries of anguish carrying through the graveyard and beyond.

Rick wondered if anyone on the outside of the Mansion could hear them. And if the police were trying to find him. Hopefully they hadn't met the same fate as Tyler.

He hid behind four small marble columns, panting and sweating, occasionally glancing around to see if the zombies were getting closer. When their cries finally died down, he fell back onto the grass with relief.

"Eh, look guys! It's a human!" a high voice with a New York accent said.

Rick opened his eyes.

"What?" He called out.

"Oh yeah! I wonder what he's doing here! Must be lost, poor fellow," said another voice, this one much deeper.

Rick stood up cautiously. There were others here with him, and they seemed to be sentient beings.

"Where are you?" the confused detective asked.

"Down here chum!" A third voice said cheerily.

Rick looked down.

In front of him on the marble pillars were five busts…and they were all moving and looking up at Rick.

"Son of a-!" Rick started, jumping back. But one of the busts interrupted him.

"Now now lad, there's no need for cursin'! What'd you expect in a haunted mansion!"

"Well, um…I…er…you…" Rick said, blabbering and stuttering.

"Oh look gents, we've scared the boy to death!" A fat one said. The others all chuckled.

"How?..." Rick finally managed to get out.

"Oh…it was that damn curse of Gracey's…"

"See, we died ages ago. Our bodies are buried somewhere over…there, I think," a bust said, nodding in one direction after pausing for a thought.

"But because we were the most famous singing group around, William insisted on placing busts of us in the Graveyard, so he could always remember our beautiful music."

"But when Gracey died, and the magic started to overpower the house…"

"…Our minds somehow became trapped in these busts. We're stuck like this forever now…"

They sighed as a collective unit.

"But once you defeat William, we should be free!" One said happily after their moment of silence.

"Yeah! If the source of the evil is gone, then the rest of it should vanish."

"We're all counting on you!"

"And," one head quipped, "If you do fail, you're welcome to join eternity here with us!"

"Gee. Thanks," Rick said, leaving the busts as they began to hum a quintet.

"Wow…" he muttered as soon as they were out of earshot, "Now I have incentive." But as Rick left them, they began to sing. He couldn't hear the words to the song because of his distance between them, but it was that same exact melody he'd heard in the ballroom, only much faster.

If the organist knew it, and the busts knew it…maybe it was more important than Rick thought.