Victoria was certain that a simple conversation with the ghosts would clear matters up and Victor could then return to his room without fear. It took a good deal of convincing on her part to coax her husband into joining her on this mission and when he finally complied she wasted no time in setting out for the haunted room; candle in hand, her unhesitating steps carried her swiftly to her destination where she was compelled to wait for a few moments as Victor attempted to put off the inevitable.
While she waited, she pressed her ear against the room's door, listening attentively. She need not have done so; someone from within the room spoke so loudly that for a moment she feared that persons elsewhere might hear and investigate.
"I swear I'll kill the man!" came the voice. "If I had just shoved a little harder with my umbrella..."
Hushed tones interrupted the speaker and for a moment all was fairly silent; then the voice came again, still more harshly.
"Mark my words—if he sets foot in here again, his death will be long and painful. Intruding like he did...why, this is our room! It's bad enough that I have to share it with the likes of you apparitions, but to have some impudent, living fellow barge in here and claim it as his, too, is far beyond what a girl like me could ever endure!"
Victoria's hand was on the doorknob when she realized that Victor now stood quietly at her side, watching her. His hands were clasped before him and his expression was one of frozen horror; she paused before entering and he said softly,
"Victoria—what if they should kill me as...as that person intends? Will they harm you, likewise?"
"That's only Mrs. Regare; she has quite a temper, but you needn't fear her. She's not the sort to kill anyone."Victoria smiled. "You should have seen her when I decided to give that room a good scrubbing once; I'd never seen such fury!"
Victor nodded, looking none too reassured, and his wife swung the door open; in they stepped, straight into the midst of a fine collection of ghosts. One of them was an ancient woman with a somewhat belligerent look about her, a gargantuan hat atop her head and an umbrella with a noticeably sharp tip gripped firmly in one hand; beside her stood an old man who seemed a good deal less irritable but a good deal more disturbing, for the grand process of decomposition had nearly ended with him whereas it was still taking its time with her. Seated on a nearby sofa were at least three others—a very gray gentleman in a top hat, a young lady who seemed somewhat ashamed of her left hand, which was no more than white, polished bone, and a child who could only be identified as such because he was an unnaturally small skeleton. Every face, fleshless or otherwise, was turned towards the two newcomers and a deathly silence fell which Victoria boldly set out to break.
"Why," she said, "Jamie, it's been months! Give me a hug, dear! Come, come!"
The young skeleton leaped from the couch and embraced her with a will. "Aunt Victoria," he said, "is it Christmas yet?"
"Not yet," she said with a small laugh, "be patient, my Jamie. Hmm, now," she said, noting Victor's frightened visage, "what do you think of this young man? He looks quite scared, does he not?"
"I think," said the skeleton, stepping away from her and observing Victor, "that Grandma Regina's going to kill him with her umbrella...isn't he awful skinny?" he added, reaching out and pinching Victor's arm.
"Yes—yes, I daresay I am," Victor said, a tremor in his voice as he stepped swiftly behind Victoria, "but don't –don't touch me, sir!"
"I haven't ever seen a living man," the skeleton sighed. He stepped around Victoria. "What big eyes he has; how warm he is! Warm..."
Victor nearly expired as the skeleton's bony arms tightened about his middle, yet he wished to please Victoria and remained still for as long as he could bear—which, sadly, was not a very lengthy amount of time. With a strangled cry, he tore himself away from Jamie and would have fled if Victoria hadn't caught his arm, forcing him to remain.
"Victor," she whispered soothingly, holding him close to her for a moment, "easy, darling. My poor Victor; I wish for your sake that we did not have to deal with this, but we must. We must."
Victor's breathing was labored and he closed his eyes, exhausted. "Victoria..." he murmured as she rested her hands on his chest.
"How lovely; I feel very much like I'm going to cry." The belligerent lady's voice startled them. "Still, Victoria, you haven't told us why you are allowing such a wretch to invade our room, our domain, our...our...our..."
"Territory," said the old skeleton at her side.
"Don't you see?" Victoria smiled, laying one hand against Victor's cheek. "We're married, Grandma. The wedding was late last week..."
"Hmph!" the old woman snapped. "And so your selfish husband resolves to take for himself the one room we have in our possession. I understand, my dear."
"It's not like that at all!" Victoria cried. "Why, it's all my fault, really..."
"Ah, don't try to take the blame upon yourself, dear Victoria," interrupted the ghost. "After all, I know how these things work. No doubt you married him for his money, correct? That..."
"No." The wistful voice of the young woman reclining on the sofa silenced her. She rested her chin on her hands, gazing at Victoria and Victor. "There's something about them, mother. Something truer than the cold love of wealth, something fairer and gentler, a..."
"How she will go on!" moaned the gentleman beside her.
"Well," Victoria sniffed, "I find that she has a far more clear view towards us than the rest of you have."
"Indeed she has," said the old woman with a thin smile. "Get that boy out of here, before I run him through!"
Victor quailed at the brandished umbrella and his wife felt a tad insulted.
"How dare you..." she began heatedly.
"How dare I!" cried the ghost, "Why, think about it. I have more of a right to this place than he does. I've lived here for ages, long before you were born. Why should I leave now? There are so many other rooms in this house for him to occupy."
"All of which," Victoria whispered, "Mother will not permit him to use."
The ancient woman snorted and approached Victoria, yet before she came near her it struck Victor that perhaps she intended to harm his young wife as she had harmed him. Without the slightest pause he thrust himself between the ghost and Victoria, startling both of them.
"The boy is mad!" the ghost fussed, waving her umbrella about.
"Victor?" Victoria gasped in her amazement.
Victor would not move. "I'll not let her near you," he declared with a somewhat timid glare at the old woman. "Who knows what she may do to you, Victoria? Don't make me step aside," he added weakly, his resolve giving way when he turned his head and noticed her irritation.
Victoria sighed. "She won't hurt me, Victor..."
"Maybe I won't hurt you," the old ghost snarled, raising her umbrella, "but I know a fellow I won't hesitate to give a beating he well deserves!"
Her confidence that her grandmother could not bring herself to harm a living soul caused Victoria to pay this statement no heed. Instead she opened her mouth to reply, yet before she could utter a word the ghost brought her umbrella with incredible force down upon Victor, striking him severely.
Victor's sharp cry of pain went straight to Victoria's heart; whether or not her grandmother knew how strong she truly was when she had behaved thus would remain a mystery, but her blow was violent enough to send her victim reeling in no particular direction until he crumpled at last, barely even conscious.
Victoria rushed to his side, her mind spinning as she tried to comprehend what had just taken place. Her grandmother followed her somewhat guiltily, murmuring something about not having acted in a very polite manner, when Victoria turned on her.
"Get away!" she screamed, nearly hysterical as she dropped to her knees beside Victor. "Don't come near me, or I swear I'll have this room torn down! Do you understand? Don't take a step near me!"