The Haunted Mansion

Spirit Photography

A section of the wall gives away and moves, creating a rather large doorway. There is little light to be found but I guess in order to return to my side of the veil, I must continue now and learn the secrets of this side. I enter the dimly lit space and my ghost host isn't shy with making himself known once again. "There are several prominent ghosts who have retired here from creepy old crypts all over the world. Actually, we have 999 happy haunts here— but there's room for thousand. Any volunteers?" The Ghost Host laughs. I stop in my tracks. If he's going to keep making innuendos about dying or joining this gothic escape, I'm going to refuse moving forward to continue the tour. My ghost host didn't like that very much and threatened me. "If you insist on lagging behind, you may not need to volunteer."

I shake my head, attempting to rid it of my frustration, but to no avail. I continued walking down the dim hallway until I reached an old Victorian carriage. It's rather lovely and inviting. Something like this doesn't belong here, in this haunted mansion. I stood there with a blank expression on my face. Do I get in or continue to stand here, looking like a foolish mortal? There are no horses in front of the carriage so, why would I get in an unmovable carriage? And with that thought, I was proven wrong. I hear a faint clicking sound and discover that there are horses . . . but they are invisible. To be honest, I didn't know what I was expecting. Ghost horses inside a Victorian mansion pulling a Victorian carriage wasn't what I was expecting. Ghost horses. That's a new one.

"And now, a carriage approaches to take you into the boundless realm of the supernatural. Take a seat and kindly watch your step."

I get into the carriage and it begins to move. The carriage has big windows so I can see my surroundings with protection in between me and the ghosts. So far, no ghosts have attacked, but it's nice to be extra safe. No one has ever died by enacting safety precautions. The Ghost Host begins the tour.

I enter a hallway. To my left are two windows with white sheer drapes; lightning crashes and thunders outside. To my right, are four paintings: a woman in a black satin dress reclining on a daybed, a ship on choppy waters, a knight on a rearing horse, and a woman in a Greek temple. Lightning flashes and with each following flash, the paintings become macabre opposites of their original. The woman in the black dress becomes an anthropomorphic tiger, the ship becomes a sea-ravaged ghost ship, the knight and the horse become skeletons, and the woman in the Greek temple becomes Medusa. "Oh yes, and no flash pictures, please. We spirits are frightfully sensitive to bright lights." I had no idea.