Perhaps I should mention that neither 'Slayers' nor 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' belong to me. They belong to their respective owners.

Restless Spirit
Chapter 2 - Inhabited

The ride to Carlahan Cottage was not the best trip Filia had ever taken. In fact, she would have preferred the loud, rickety train to Mr. Calloway's constant jabbering, his all-too-obvious staring at her chest, and Val's whining in the back seat. Filia briefly wished she'd left Val with her two servants back at the inn rather than taking him with her, but then the thought of being alone with Mr. Calloway drove that thought away quickly.

She was also about to whack that perverted little man into next week if he kept staring at her chest. The nerve of him! Why, he was probably married, too! And here she was, a single woman with a child, possessing better manners than he ever hoped to have. It did some good for her self-confidence, but nothing for her current situation.

"Ah, here we are," Mr. Calloway said, finally breaking off from that absurdly boring one-sided conversation to announce that they were almost at Carlahan Cottage. She looked away from the alluring view of the ocean and turned her head to see the most adorable house she'd ever seen! It was two stories high, with a white, glistening exterior, and she could see a lovely balcony where the master bedroom probably was, overlooking the ocean. The house itself sat high on a cliff, and the car clattered and jumbled them around as it climbed the steep road to the house. Filia felt excitement well up inside of her. Finally, a home of her own!

The car stopped in front of the charming little gate and Filia immediately got out, not waiting for Mr. Calloway to come around and open the door for her. She was far too tired of being in that car. Val also climbed out and trailed after Filia as she opened the gate and walked up the sidewalk to the door, Mr. Calloway following behind Val, muttering nervously to himself. Filia smirked.

Suddenly Val stopped and gasped. He then grabbed Filia's skirt and cried, "Momma! Momma! I saw someone in there!"

Filia's eyes grew wide, and she glared at Mr. Calloway. "Is there someone living here, Mr. Calloway? Did you forget to inform me of this?"

Mr. Calloway, fearing the wrath of Filia's parasol, stepped back and hastily replied, "Oh, no, Miss, there is no one 'living' here, I assure you. But I must warn you…I shan't keep this from you any longer…this house is haunted by a vengeful spirit. It's dreadful, madam, to even look upon his face. I insist that we leave now! Oh he'll be angry…yes, indeed…"

Filia regarded the cowering man with impatient amusement. "Really, you expect me to believe nonsense like that? Please, I wouldn't have expected you to go to that much of an extreme."

"It's true! The boy saw him, I'm sure of it!"

Filia looked down at Val, who was nodding enthusiastically. "Val, honey, are you sure you saw someone?"

He nodded again.

"Well…what did he look like?"

Val thought for a moment, as if trying to remember. "Well…he had long hair. Some of it was over his face, so I couldn't see it very well. I think he was looking at me.""

Mr. Calloway screeched. "It's him! It's him! Oh, he'll tear me to shreds; I know it. Please, I beg you, let's go find you another house!"

Filia touched her lip with her finger and smiled thoughtfully. "Let me think. No. Val, honey, I'm sure your eyes were just playing tricks on you. If there is some drifter in here, then we shall have to tell him to get out."

With that, she swung her parasol in the air for emphasis and marched up to the door. Finding it unlocked, she went inside.

Outside as well as inside, the house was remarkably simple in a way that Filia found most attractive. She also noticed that everything looked well kept and not covered with dust, not as she would have expected an abandoned house would look. She wandered through the parlor and through the living room, taking further note of how the furniture looked surprisingly brand-new. She found it rather odd, but had no complaints whatsoever. Perhaps there were outside caretakers of the house who wanted to continue its present condition in order to better attract buyers. It still made no sense why that idiotic Mr. Calloway tried to dissuade her because of some silly ghost story. However, there appeared to be no one there, which made her feel much safer. Not that she believed in any of that supernatural nonsense…

Val had run ahead to the kitchen, having been bored by Filia's constant comments about the condition of the furniture. Mr. Calloway still cowered by the door, refusing to venture further into the house. Filia had no complaints about that.

Then Val suddenly called to her from the kitchen, his voice sounding somewhat panicky. Her heart leapt in her throat as she imagined all sorts of horrifying things that could be happening to him. She instead found him in one piece, pointing to the table.

"Val…what's wrong?"

"Momma…look at that! Someone *has* been here!"

Indeed, the table was littered with scraps of food and an overturned glass. Filia wrinkled her nose. The food smelled several days old, and was beginning to rot.

"Well, whoever was here, they're not here now. Although it seems like they left in a bit of a hurry…"

Mr. Calloway peered in the doorway, having overheard their exchange. "It's him, I tell you. There were a few people who rented this place last week, but they left without notice. Just one day up and vanished, all their belongings gone, and their automobile missing. It's his work. He's a demon!"

Filia was at her wits end with this man's rambling. "Just who in the world is this 'him' you're talking about? Your ghost, I presume?"

Mr. Calloway's voice dropped to a dramatic low. "He was the first owner of this house. No one knows who he is, but several people have seen him. He doesn't want anyone to live here."

"Why is that?" Filia asked, finding herself somewhat curious.

"They say he's got something hidden here that he doesn't want anyone to see. Either that or he just hates people."

"Why would he haunt? Wouldn't he just rather…go away, and let others live in peace? Your ghost story just doesn't make any sense. Why on earth would I believe such drivel?"

"It isn't drivel, Mrs. Ul Copt, I assure you!" Mr. Calloway pleaded. "This ghost, he isn't any normal ghost. Strange things have happened to the people who stay here. Scares the devil out of 'em, it does. He's evil, I tell you. From what I've heard of the story, he built this house one hundred years ago, when he came here. No one knows what happened to him, but they say he committed suicide."

Filia stared at Mr. Calloway, then laughed. "Mr. Calloway, you certainly have an active imagination. I don't imagine that any ghost or demon or whatever is going to keep me from having this house. It's so beautiful, and it has such a peaceful, wonderful setting. I live my own life, Mr. Calloway. And I'll show this ghost that he's not going to take away my peace and quiet."

Mr. Calloway sighed, having realized that he wasn't going to get anywhere with this stubborn woman. "If…if you insist, Ms. Ul Copt. We'll return to town and I'll draw up the papers."

Filia beamed. "Thank you."

The next afternoon, Filia was finally settled into the house of her dreams. There were still things to put away, but she had decided to take a break and enjoy the sights and sounds of her newfound freedom. Just the sound of the ocean outside her window was enough to bring peace to her soul, as the description had said. She had, of course, chosen the bedroom with a most charming view of the sea, which also came with a telescope! She had already spent her leisure looking out over the horizon, wondering what adventures lay in store, should she ever get the notion to simply take off one day and explore distant lands.

She laughed merrily to herself at that thought. Sometimes she liked to indulge in silly notions like that, just for the fun of it. She knew she would never do any of the things she dreamed about. She had too many responsibilities, too many prior arrangements that she needed to accomplish. But it was fun to imagine, sometimes, what kind of adventures she could have if she weren't a woman or a mother, or if she imagined herself as the adventurous type. She would never admit it to anyone, but she had always dreamed of flying…out over the sea, the salty air stinging her eyes, the water brushing her skin. Just the thought of that gave her chills of pleasure. It would be such a thrill!

Sighing, she tapped the telescope with her fingers. But those thoughts were absurd. Such was life. She was happy where she was. There was much to be thankful for, always. She had Val; such a delightful child. She had two wonderful servants, George and Jacob. Really quite lively fellows, they were. They were young ones, really, that she had also taken in as mere teenagers come out of a bad family situation. They were polite, hard workers, and perhaps overly loyal to young Val, which she found amusing and cute. She didn't know where she'd be without them.

As if on cue to her thoughts, the door opened a crack and Jacob peered in cautiously. They were still so nervous around her, afraid to damage her faith in them, that they were deathly afraid of angering her in any way. She chuckled to herself. Perhaps one day they would learn to relax.

"Yes, what is it Jacob?" she asked. "Is there something wrong?"

"Beggin' your pardon, Miss Filia," he replied, fiddling with his hat nervously. "I was wonderin'…well you see, me an' George was wantin' to go into town to get ya some food and supplies. An' little Val said he wants ta go, too. Iffen you don't mind me sayin' so, you oughta take a nap, Miss Filia. You'se lookin' awfully tired."

Filia smiled. He was so cute, with his thick 'downtown' accent. She patted him lightly on the head and went to the desk, where she took out a money purse and handed it to the boy. "Here, Jacob, take this purse and buy whatever groceries and supplies you think we need. Buy some ice cream for Val while you're there."

He grinned and bowed graciously. "Yes, Miss! I certainly will!"

"You don't have to bow, Jacob. I'm not the Queen."

"Aye, but you're darn near to royalty to me, Miss," Jacob replied, and then ran out of the room, hollering for George to 'get ready, they was leavin''.

Filia stared after him, then laughed again, her laugh cut short by an impromptu yawn. "My, but I am tired," she complained, to no one in particular. "I think I will take a short nap."

Yawning again, she closed the door to the balcony and settled herself into the chair in front of the fire. Within a minute, she was asleep, lulled by the sounds of the waves and the ticking of the clock on the mantle. Aside from that, the room was still; silent.

As was the figure in the opposite corner of the room, watching her every breath with darkened curiosity.

His lips turned upwards into a smirk, his eyes seeming to glow in the reflecting sunlight. The shadows around him seemed to dance in ever-shifting patterns. There would have been something sinister about him, but that sinister glare had faded ages ago. The only thing left was an illusion, and the endless emptiness inside of whatever soul he possessed. All he knew was that his emptiness had filled that house…his darkness had made it his own. He had nothing left. And he certainly didn't want her presence tainting what was his and his alone. He had to get rid of her, but he didn't know how.

He would think of something.

He rose to his feet and went over to the side of the chair, looking down on the new inhabitant of his house. His house…not her house. She had no right to be there. She had no place there. He knew, deep within himself, that he didn't belong there, either. But she had a choice. She could have gone somewhere else. He had no choice but to stay there; it was all he knew now. All he had.

No matter what, she had to go.

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