A/N: Thank you to all who has read and reviewed!

Thanks to Ella and kitchmill for all of their hard work and help!

Any mistakes you see are my own.

SM owns everything Twilight.

3-

After talking with Edward, he tries to assure me he doesn't believe my house is haunted, but I'm not so sure. How can I ignore what's happened? When he senses my doubt, I blurt out everything I've been through. If I weren't so scared, the look of fright on his face would have been comical.

He tries to get me to come with him to his house but I refuse. I'm not the type of person to run away from things. I'm the type that stays and fights. It's a stupid decision, I admit, but I'm not going to let a ghost get the better of me.

Before he leaves, he makes me promise I will call him if I ever need him. I give him my word, determined that should I need to, he will be the first one I'll call. Right after I run out of the house, of course.

Once I am home, I immediately dive into my work. I have to get my photographs done for the exhibit in the local gallery and think it is a perfect distraction from what I learned.

Unfortunately, it isn't that easy. Whenever I take a break, my mind drifts back to my past experiences and Edward's words. During these times, my breathing accelerates, my heart jack-hammers in my chest and the hair on my neck and arms stands up.

A small portion of these frightening times I am positive it is my own doing. The rest of it 'm not sure about.

When my fright is at an all time high, I find myself calling Edward, just to feel a little less alone. He succeeds in getting my mind off of my ghostly troubles and makes me laugh with his childhood stories. Every phone call makes me feel closer to him and takes my mind off of my haunted house. For a little bit.

At times, it is difficult to concentrate. When I'm not thinking of Edward, I am distracted by the sound of creaking wood and footsteps and the feel someone's eyes on me. I try to focus on my art, pushing myself to escape in my "zone," but it is difficult. Feeling creeped out is harder to shake off than one would think.

Finally, I complete the photos requested and hand deliver them to the gallery on the day they're due. As sad as it is, I'm actually glad to be out of the house. It feels like a weight is lifted off me and I can breathe without being observed every minute. I hate feeling this way; I fell in love with that house and now I look forward to being away from it.

As I drop the pictures off, I'm asked to wait, so I stick around, observing the other artworks. They're all very good and some even leave me in awe at the raw emotion that pours from the canvases. Hopefully, one day I'll have that kind of talent.

"Miss Swan?" a gentle voice inquires. Turning, I'm greeted with a caramel-haired woman who has the kindest face I've ever seen. "I'm Esme Cullen. It's such an honor to meet you."

I shake her hand firmly, wondering if she has any relation to Edward and Alice. "Cullen? As in Cullen Hardware? Are you related to Edward Cullen?"

"Guilty," she says, her eyes bright. "Edward is my son and Cullen Hardware is my husband's store; my children work there with him. I must admit, this meeting isn't a coincidence. When my children told me about you coming in, I had to jump at the chance of getting you in my gallery. I'm a huge fan of yours; the whole family is actually. I hope this wasn't inconvenient for you? Getting these photos done on such sort time?"

"Not at all, Mrs. Cullen. In Portland, I've had much less notice than a few days. I'm used to working under pressure."

"Oh, good. I was so afraid I had ruined my chances and made a horrible first impression, but I have a new showcase coming up tomorrow and I wanted to be sure to include you in it. From your style and technique, I knew you would be perfect for it, and I was right. It's an added bonus that you're a favorite artist of mine as well." She laughs. "I'm thrilled you accepted."

"Thank you for inviting me. I really appreciate it."

"No thanks are necessary. You have an amazing talent and I wanted you for my gallery before someone else could snatch you up."

"Well, I'm glad to be a part of your gallery and showcase. To be shown with this work," I say, waving to the photographs that had me so in awe. "It's remarkable. It's an honor, truly."

Esme gives me a gentle smile and waves a hand in front of her. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you where your works will be displayed."

I follow her to a freestanding wall near the entrance that will hold my pictures. In this location, my photos will have proper lighting and be something people see once they enter the main gallery. I'm floored that she's chosen such a high profile area for my artwork; usually places like this are reserved for more famous pieces. I voice my thoughts for the spot and turn my eyes to the door when it opens. Alice walks in and smiles hugely when she sees me standing with her mother.

"Hi, Bella. I see my mom wasted no time."

"Of course I didn't. Someone else would have snatched her up and I couldn't have that," Esme says to her daughter.

"You and Edward are more alike than you think," she teases. "Are you ready for lunch? If not, I can wait out in the car."

"No, I'm ready. Bella, would you like to join us?"

"Oh, I don't want to impose on your lunch, Mrs. Cullen."

"Call me Esme and it isn't an imposition. I would love for you to join us."

Alice nods vigorously in agreement, so I accept her invitation and follow the pair to the restaurant where they'll be eating. As I pull up in a spot next to them, I notice Edward standing outside, most likely waiting for them.

I'm proven right when he waves to both of them, smiling happily. When he sees me following them, he looks a little surprised, but his expression turns back to one of happiness.

"Hello." He reaches for my hand and I offer it willingly.

"Hi," I greet him with a smile.

"I invited Bella to lunch. You don't mind,do you?" Esme asks, looking at her son.

"Of course not. Jasper's inside holding down the table. Shall we go in?"

Edward holds the door open for all of us, leading us to the table they snagged ten minutes earlier. A man with shaggy honey-colored hair rises from the table, kissing Alice softly on the lips and then giving a kiss on the cheek to Esme.

When Jasper and I are introduced, he too tells me he's a fan of my work and would love to interview me for a piece for the paper where he works. I agree, and he thanks me with a dip of his head.

During lunch, Esme tells me about her family. She speaks with love about her husband, who has recently retired from being a doctor so he could open up his own store, and she tells me of her other son, Emmett, whom I already met because he was my exterminator. She also tells me of Emmett's wife, Rosalie, who is expecting their first child in December.

I, in turn, tell them about my life and how I got to where I am now. I notice Jasper pulls out a notebook and starts writing things down. He says these are answers to the questions he knows he'll ask, so he wants to write them down so I won't have to repeat them later.

I continue on, telling them about why I moved here, and Esme questions if I've found the perfect place for myself. When I answer affirmatively, I receive the same worried and fearful look from her I got from her children.

"I told her the story," Edward admits.

"Has anything strange happened since you've been there?" Alice asks.

Nodding, I tell them what I've been through and they're silent, lost in their thoughts. All except Jasper, who taps his pen against his chin.

"Have you tried getting in contact with the spirit?"

I look at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Many people believe that ghosts can be contacted through video or voice recording. Obviously, this ghost is trying to contact you. You should try setting up video and voice recorders to see if you catch anything. If you do, maybe you can see what this spirit wants and release it."

"Do you think that'll work?"

Jasper shrugs. "I don't know, to be honest. But it's worth a try."

8*8*8*8

Jasper's words echo in my head all throughout the ride home. As I pull into my driveway, I stare at my house. I still love it; I love the style and the room I have in it, but it's being overshadowed by the possibility of a ghost.

Taking slow steps, I walk up the pathway and go inside timidly, my eyes searching for anything that doesn't belong. When I see nothing, I lock the door behind me and go straight to my computer, searching for anything that will verify what Edward has told me. Maybe if I can find more details, I'll know how to better help this spirit move on.

Three frustrating hours later, I find nothing about a murder or missing person's report that happened in this area—not even a tiny blurb. I even search the Port Angeles and Seattle newspapers. Thinking back to Edward's tale, I have the feeling that it never made it out of Forks. I guess my feeling was correct.

Sighing heavily, I can't help but feel disappointment. I had hoped something would come up, even a small local legend, but nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Either it was very well covered up, or it simply didn't happen.

But I can't really think that way, can I? There's only so much I can chalk up to imagination,and this isn't one of those things. There's only one option left for me now.

"Hello?" Edward picks after the fourth ring, sounding cheery, but alert.

"Hey, it's me."

"Bella? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Listen, do you or Jasper have access to video and voice recording?"

"I don't, but Jasper does for sure. He's done ghost hunts before for his paper and a few on his own for fun. Why? Do you want to do an amateur ghost hunt?"

"I was thinking about it. I don't want to live in my home in fear anymore. Do you think Jasper would let me borrow some equipment? Or maybe even help me conduct it?"

"I'm sure he won't mind. In fact, I know he won't. He loves this supernatural crap."

"Great." I sigh with relief. "Can you ask him, just to be sure?"

"Of course. Let me call him and I'll get back to you. And Bella, don't worry. Everything is going to be okay."

8*8*8*8

Twenty minutes later, Edward calls me back, confirming his earlier words. Jasper does, in fact, have access to the equipment needed to catch a ghost on film. He tells me that they'll be bringing everything over later this evening and to not worry about anything.

That's easier said than done.

Every little sound makes me jump, and I'm constantly looking over my shoulder for a glowing figure, waiting to kill me. By the time the sun starts to lower in the sky, I'm a nervous wreck … and the scratching I hear isn't helping much. It's grated on my nerves so much that I opt to stand outside and wait for them arrive. Never mind it's cold and I'm shivering within ten minutes; there's no way I'm going back in the house alone.

A four-door SUV pulls into my driveway with Jasper in the driver's seat. I see his lips moving and before I can comprehend what's happening, Edward is out of the car, taking long strides to me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I say, shivering. Edward sees this and takes off his jacket, placing it around my shoulders and rubbing my arms with his warm hands. I lean into him, soaking up his comforting presence and body heat. "I couldn't stay there any longer. I kept expecting some killer ghost to come through the wall, and I really can't stand that scratching sound."

"I'm sorry." Edward places his lips against my forehead. "I shouldn't have told you that story."

"No, it's fine. I'm glad I know." Sort of.

Edward, not buying my words, looks at me skeptically and shakes his head, regret clear in his eyes. Obviously, there's no convincing him otherwise, so I wrap an arm around his waist and squeeze.

"Everything okay?"

I look toward Jasper, who looks at me worriedly. I try to give him a smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. Behind him Alice stands, also looking worried.

"I hope you don't mind that I came along," she says, her voice timid. "I didn't want Jasper here alone ..."

I wave off her apology, knowing that I would be in the same position if it were someone I care about. Hell, I haven't known Edward that long, but I know a part of me would want to be with him if he were doing something like this.

She smiles in relief and goes to the SUV, lugging out a huge plastic box. I'm surprised she can handle such an item, but apparently she has surprising strength.

Jasper stares at me for a moment longer before giving a comforting smile. "Everything will be fine, Bella. We'll get to the bottom of this. Once we collect the evidence of what this ghost wants then I'm going to make a call," he tells me, waving his cell phone around. "And call someone to come out and get this ghost to move on."

"Thank you, Jasper."

He dips his head in acknowledgment and goes to help Alice retrieve more equipment from the car. Once everything is unloaded, Jasper unpacks it, setting up various monitors on the dining room table. I offer to help them place the cameras up, but I have no experience at handling such sensitive equipment, so I stand out of the way. Alice, Jasper and Edward place various cameras around the house in places Jasper calls "hotspots."

Most of this I recall from watching reality ghost shows on television. I never thought I'd be participating in it, though.

Everything is set up and the others come into the room, Edward standing by me and grasping my hand within his. I squeeze him and turn toward Jasper when he speaks.

"I believe we'll get better results if we split up in teams."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Alice says, scrunching her face in disapproval. "Bad things always happen when groups split up."

Jasper curls his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side. "Everything will be fine. We're all going to be in the house within shouting distance, although I do recommend you be as quite as possible when doing voice recordings, okay?" At the last statement he looks at all of us, waiting for our nods before speaking to Alice again. "I promise, nothing bad will happen."

Alice reluctantly agrees and asks what the next step is.

"The next step," Jasper says, "is to go get our evidence. Edward, Bella, the both of you take the upper level, Alice and I will be down here, watching the monitors."

"Why us first? You have more experience with this, Jasper," Edward points out.

"I do, but I think we'll get a better reaction from the ghost if Bella goes first. Since this is her home, the ghost will be more reactive to her."

Nervousness washes over me. I had a feeling that was the reason he wanted Edward and I to go investigate first, but to hear it straight from his mouth creates a feeling of dread that sits in my stomach like a lead brick.

Oblivious to my turmoil, Jasper continues. "Make sure your recorders are on and if you feel threatened at any time, calmly come downstairs and we'll assess from there, understood?"

Edward and I both murmur our agreements and take the small hand held recorders from Jasper as he hands them to us.

With each step leading up the stairs, my heart hammers in my chest. To me, it seems like it's beating so hard that everyone can hear it.

The thump, thump, thump in my chest echoes in my ears and my hands shake, causing me to drop the recorder. My hands fumble as I try to pick up the device before getting a firm grasp on it.

Edward takes my free hand and squeezes softly, pulling me into my studio. His eyes scan the area, and he smiles when he sees my latest work in progress.

"What's the inspiration behind this one? Or am I not supposed to look at it yet?"

Usually, I would tell him—or anyone that wasn't me—to look away. I never want anyone looking at my unfinished pieces; I much prefer them to be completed when eyes are first set upon them, but this time, I'll make an exception. I know he's trying to distract me from what we're doing.

I stand next to the board where a handful of photographs are spread about. I had taken these photos when I first bought the house; some of them are structural shots, showcasing the outside structure while the others are shots of the sky and the weeds and flowers that surrounded the property. The last picture is of what the house looks like now that the weeds are gone and the outside is cleaned up.

I had planned to incorporate all of these images into one image showing the old and the new both on separate sides of the photo but also bleeding together, so it looks like one image.

As I explain all of this, I feel my frightened feelings slowly dissipate and are replaced by excitement and love for my craft. Edward watches me speak with rapt attention and smiles throughout my explanation.

"Your passion is a wonderful thing to experience."

My eyes drift down to the floor, looking at my feet, but as soon as I do, Edward's finger lifts my chin.

"Never be embarrassed about your passion. It's part of who you are,and you should never be embarrassed about that."

"Thank you," I reply softly.

He gives me a crooked smile and leans forward, kissing my forehead. "I do hope I'll be around long enough to see you like that again."

His words can be taken more than one way and I find myself blushing, even though I know I have nothing to be embarrassed about. Still, my cheeks flame and he chuckles, kissing my forehead again, trailing his lips across my skin and over to my ear.

"And yes, I did mean that in more than one way," he whispers.

A giggle escapes me and I lay my head on his chest. He wraps his arms around me, holding me there.

BANG!

We both jump at the sound, our heads swiveling toward my bedroom, where the sound came from. Carefully and slowly, we walk out into the hallway, neither of us not even daring to breathe louder than a whisper.

We stand in the doorway, seeing nothing out of place, but we both know the sound came from this room. Edward takes my hand and takes the recorder from me, directing me slightly behind him and stepping into the room, keeping me close to him but out of the way.

"Hello?" He speaks lowly, but clear. He lifts the recorder in the air and waits for a beat before speaking again. "Who are you?" Another beat. "What do you want with Bella?"

Another bang comes from the closet and Edward turns to me, his face serious. "Stay right here," he tells me in a demanding whisper.

Not wanting to argue, I nod vigorously, my voice seemingly lost. Edward breaks his hold on my hand and I clutch the door frame, watching as he walks over to the closet, opening the door and taking a peek inside.

With the door open, that dreadful scratching sound can be heard clearer and he steps into the doorway of the closet, his head tilted to the side as he listens carefully.

"I hear something."

"Scratching?"

He shakes his head, his face a mask of confusion. "Not quite. It almost sounds like … movement."

As the last word leaves his lips, a pale hand shoots out, grabbing Edward by the throat and pulling him in. His head hits the wall hard, the muted thud making me wince and scream as his body disappears.

Thundering footsteps fill the house as Jasper and Alice sprint up the stairs, rushing toward me with wide eyes.

"Something took him," I force out, pointing to the closet.

Jasper rushes over to the closet, picking up Edward's discarded recorder and looking for Edward, who has completely disappeared. Jasper starts banging on the walls as Alice holds onto me, trying to calm me down.

"We heard a noise and he went to investigate. He said he heard movement and then something shot out and took him," I cry.

"It's fine, Bella," Alice says softly, even though her voice is not reassuring. She, too, sounds frightened for her brother.

Jasper comes out of the closet. "I'm going to have to tear down your closet wall. I think that's where he is. There's a slight trail of blood disappearing under there."

Alice and I both cry out. "Do you think he's alive?" I ask, fearful for the answer.

"I don't know, but we have to get to him. Where are your tools?"

"Downstairs, in the laundry room."

Jasper nods. "I'll be right back; don't move."

We follow his instruction, staying in the doorway, our hands clasped as Jasper runs down the steps. A second later, we hear a crash, followed by Jasper's voice.

"Shit!"

"Jasper!" Alice gasps. She looks at me, clearly at a loss on what to do.

"Go," I urge.

Without needing to be told twice, she tears down the steps, going to aide her husband. I remain in the doorway, not wanting to move.

A noise behind me makes me spin around. A thump comes from the attic door, and despite my heart jumping in my throat, I rush over to it, thinking—and hoping—that perhaps it's Edward behind the piece of wood. I know it's impossible that it's him, but right now, I'm hoping for anything.

"Edward? Is that you?"

I place my ear against the door, listening carefully. The only sound I hear is shuffling and muttering coming from within.

"Edward? Please, answer me!"

A louder, more pronounced thump meets my ears and I jump away from the door, startled. The thumping continues, and I run back into my bedroom, grabbing the flashlight in my bedside drawer. I slide back into the hall, falling onto the floor, hoping to see something.

Drawing in a shaky breath, I place my cheek against the cool hardwood and fumble with the flashlight, trying to find the button to turn it on with nervous fingers.

My index finger feels the soft button, and taking a deep breath, I click it on, illuminating the space underneath the door.

Immediately, I wish I hadn't.

Instead of green eyes, I see a pale blue eye. I release a scream and shuffle backward on my hands, knocking the flashlight away from me. The light spins across the floor, showing the eye each time the beam of hits it.

I scramble backward, trying to get away, and as I do, my foot kicks the flashlight away from the eye staring at me. Now, I can't tell whether the person or thing is staring at me still. It doesn't matter though; all that matters is getting away from that door.

My intent is to go downstairs; hell, I'll crawl if I have to, but suddenly I'm stopped by running into something solid. A short sigh of relief escapes me, thinking it's Jasper, but one look up tells me I'm dead wrong.

The person standing over me has wild blond hair, a full face of facial hair, where I can't make out anything except his eyes. His body is slightly gaunt, wearing tattered rags for clothes and it has wild eyes that make me fear for my life. What's the most terrifying isn't the fact that some entity is standing over me, looking murderous … it isn't the fact that this thing reaches down and backhands me as I scream; it's the fact that this thing isn't a ghost as I thought.

It's a flesh and blood person.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed!

One more chapter to go! ;)