The house was creepy.

That was saying something, coming from me. I had seen all things in my time as paranormal investigator for hire, spirits lacking their heads, reanimated birds, hell, I’d even seen a bath possessed by an octopus, but this estate was different.

I could hear the girl weeping, I could feel the eyes watching me. Something about this house made me feel like there was more to the story. There was all kinds of spirits lurking in the halls. Shadows that seemed to move, faces that moved in the roof and floors. The tiles shifted and moved.

The house was, undoubtedly, restless.

The only way I knew that I hadn’t gotten anywhere near the spirit who ran the estate was because I could still feel tingles every time I turned a corner. Tingles, like these were usually, well, to put it simply, bad. The spirit that occupied the rundown mansion was horribly powerful.

I turn through a hallway, and the walls started spinning. I swallowed back the bile that rose in my throat as I walked through to the ballroom.

In the centre of the ballroom stood—floated—the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was wearing a fairly simple dress, one that I would assume ladies of higher status wore a hundred or so years ago on their birthdays. I couldn’t tell the colour, as she glowed the light blue of every spirit, except for that horrible red stain on the corset of the dress.

Interesting… I wonder what happened to her, and if it had anything to do with the high protection that the manor had. Her eyes were different too, instead of colour, they were shadows, like the ones clutching the walls.

I study the ballroom, it was in semi-disarray, like it had been destroyed the night she died, and someone had tried to put it back together. Maybe it was her, maybe it wasn’t.

“What happened here?” I whisper, even though I am fully aware she can hear me.