The Haunting of Harvestspell Manor

Half Past the Witching Hour

Throughout the rest of the day, Casey and Matias searched the premises over for any possible traces of dark history on the Harvestspell property. Checking the great library in the fourth floor, in the attic space, the rooms on the second floor, and even outside in the backyard garden. But the search was fruitless. No shred of any other evidence could be found. They must wait until the night in her tenfolds of darkness and secret black deeds come upon them.

Supper passed lightly and cheerfully for the guests and hosts, in order to pacify what events were to come tonight. After about an hour of playing a game of cards with their host, it grew to just an hour before midnight.

"It's about now an hour to midnight," Matias remarked, looking at the old grandfather clock in the drawing room. "We had better prepare for bed and what awaits us tonight."

"If you ask me," the mistress, who sat in her chair by the fire reading, "I still say you are all mad! There is nothing going on this house and never was. In my twenty years of living here have I heard any 'rattling chains' or 'ghastly moans'," and with that she glared hard at the gentlemen.

"So you have said, Mrs.Harvestspell," Matias said, glaring back in defiance and growing rather annoyed with this woman's constant arguing. She would have clearly like to stick it out and raise her voice; and her husband knew this. But to settle the fight before it began, Mr.Harvestspell rose up.

"Come, Mary. It's high time we were in bed. Have a good night, Mr. Barrington and O'Daly," Mr.Harvestspell said and turned to his guests. But added in a small tone,"a-and if should anything happen, do not be afraid to let me know.."

The investigators nodded in silent reply. With this conversation ended, the party broke up and headed towards their rooms; the hosts to their chambers, and the ghost hunters to their post—the haunted room on the third floor.

The night made the interior of the house look even gloomier than it did in the daylight. It was so dark that not even the brightness of the candles they held could penetrate far into the inky blackness of the stairwell and hallways. Each floorboard creaked dreadfully so and the dark shadows danced so fearfully into the flickering candlelight, that Casey clung onto the shoulder of his friend tightly, lest the thing they were expecting to see should make an early appearance behind them.

But at length they boarded the chilly third floor and made it to their haunted quarters. Once inside and lighting the fireplace, they made away getting started in preparations. They closed the window tightly, checked the wardrobe, made sure there weren't any secret passageways, or any other body, mortal or unearthly, could get in or out except by that door. And as extra precaution, they tied a bell to the door so any human hand should touch the knob even in the slightest, the bell would announce its coming and going from the room.

By the time they had taken out their ghost hunting equipment from their bags, it was midnight; the witching hour. And they could hear the other grandfather clock in the end of the hall ring out the hour.

Casey yawned and stretched. "If you don't mind, dear friend. I shall try and catch some sleep before this adventure to begin. But please keep the fire going. Wouldn't want to catch a cold from the unbearable chill in this room."

Matias laughed. "You need not to worry, old friend. I'll keep her lit. But if you will be cold still, I'd just as soon hop into bed with you and we will share the bed clothes!" He said with a joking laugh.

Casey's Irish cheeks flushed red again. He chuckled "ha! Y-yeah. Well, Goodnight Matias."

"Goodnight Casey" he smiled.

Casey, still blushing, turned over in the bed and soon closed his eyes, in a vain attempt to sleep. While Matias, after turning on the hand held Ghost-Thermal detection device on and set it on the side table, began to read in a chair by the fire.