Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - A Murder at Foxflight Manor

Episode Date: May 11, 2022

🎉 Ad-free podcast + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎧 Check out The SCP Experience podcast here: https://spoti.fi/3zCFjQc 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep ✅ Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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50 tours on the machine-a-Bass-B-B-B-B-Banza. Depos minimum of $10. Veillard to be in a fashion responsible. The conditions apply. Talk to nicely. The scream snapped me awake. I wasn't sleeping exactly.

But I wasn't fully present either. There was more yelling. The sounds of footsteps pounding down the hall. And an echo of the first scream that clawed its way into my ear, thrashing like a trapped mouse. I looked for an exit. I was in the library, alone, next to a cheerful fire inside a stone mantle.

The nearest door was directly across the room. I couldn't remember if that was the exit to the hall or if it led deeper into a study, but I decided to chance it. I collided with something the moment I stepped into the hallway. We both went down in a tangle of limbs and curses. The man I'd knocked over got up first and extended his hand. Are you okay, Bruce? He asked.

For a moment, my mind was blank. I didn't recognize the man, or even my name. Then things clicked into place, and I took the offered hand. Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that. The man nodded. He was maybe 50 or 60 years old and dressed in a gray suit.

His hair was salt and pepper, and there were creases in his eyes that spoke to me of decades spent squinting in the sun. I knew his name, Peter, and that he was here for the same reason I was. only I couldn't recall the event. It floated at the edge of my memory. A little moth attracted to fire, but unwilling to come too close.

Another scream came crashing down the hall. Peter and I both winced. Guess we should see if we can help, he suggested. Yeah, we both passed through the hallway at a light jog. Even distracted by the screams, I couldn't help but take in how stunning the surroundings were. The hall was brightly lit, with oil lamps set in bronze sconces every few yards. Our shoes slid softly into a thick crimson carpet. The walls were wood-paneled and dotted with marble busts and oil-painted landscapes

and portraits of well-dressed men and women who all seemed to share identical frowns. It dawned on me that I was running through either a castle or a mansion next to a man I didn't know, toward something that sounded like bloody murder. As it turns out, the metaphor was entirely literal in my situation. Jesus God! Peter said as we located the source of the screaming. The long hall opened up to a series of rooms set in a large foyer. One of the doors led out into a stone courtyard surrounded by towering bay windows.

I caught the smell of honeysuckle and autumn air blowing in through an open frame. There was a small crowd in the courtyard all circled around a dead woman. I counted five in total, other than the deceased. All were dressed similar to Peter in fine, fitted suits, or sleek evening gowns that rolled with the breeze. What happened? Peter asked, taking a step towards the group. He half bent like he wanted to check the dead woman's pulse, but there was clearly no point. Her limbs were a broken tangle framing a bent neck. Beyond being shattered, the corpse also lay cooling in a wide pool of blood.

Her throat slid open from ear to ear. My first thought was that someone must have hated her or loved her, very much to extend that level of violence towards the woman. One of the men in the crowd opened his mouth to reply, but only ended up shaking his head. He looked to be the youngest of the bunch, in his twenties at most. There were two other men, both peers to Peter, as well as two women. The one in the black dress was tall and stunning and practically shimmered in the moonlight under the weight of silver and diamonds at ears and throat and wrist.

It was the other woman, the one in red, who was the owner of the scream. She stood alone in the corner of the courtyard under a willow tree. She'd calmed down and was no longer shrieking, but her voice was unmistakable as she was. she sobbed and let out an occasional whimper. Has anyone called for, uh, an ambulance? I asked. I looked down at blood spilling into the grooves between cobblestones. Or the police?

One of the middle-aged men, a tall ginger in a tweed suit, gave me a confused look. None of us have our phones, don't you remember? He asked. We turned everything over to Mary when we arrived at Fox Flight Manor, even our car keys. My face must have looked. blank because the man continued, to preserve historical accuracy for the event, and to keep anyone drinking too much from heading out early. This was not more than three hours ago, Bruce. I'm sorry. I think I'm just rattled, feeling confused. Peter put a hand on my shoulder.

Understandable. He looked at the group. Does anyone know where Mary put the phones and our keys? I saw her taking them out of the room right before dinner, but didn't see where she went with them, said the woman in black. I got ready to ask if we could check with Mary, then realized the group would have done that immediately if it was an option. Mary must be the dead woman. I tried to shake my head clear.

My memory was patchy for the night, but getting better. The woman in black was Evelyn. The one in red was Kelly. The tall ginger was Roger, the younger guy, Lucas, and the final man in the black suit with the beard was, William, I said out loud. The man looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. Um, did you see anything?

I asked quickly. No, nothing. I mean, I was the second one down here after Kelly, but Mary was already, well, as she is now. It's sick, said Lucas. Whoever did this? He looked around. You know, I'm sure it wasn't one of us naturally. Do we think the killer is still in Fox Flight?

We should cover her, Eveleen said. We shouldn't just leave her out and exposed like this. It's not dignified. Peter shrugged off his blazer and gently laid it over Mary's body. I felt a little tension release from the group once her dead eyes and open throat were hidden. The look on her face, that final expression, it was not one of peace. A half-seen movement caused me to glance across the courtyard. Someone was watching us through one of the massive windows.

their face partially hidden in the glare of moonlight on glass, but still familiar. It was a woman, older than the two in the courtyard. I wondered why she wasn't joining us. Maybe she was afraid of the sight of blood. Well, what's the plan? Lucas asked. Not much we can do without a phone or car keys, Evelyn said, biting a bright red lip. I've got a spare key on a magnet under my bumper, Peter said. I'll drive into town while the rest of you look for a phone.

phone. He looked down at the jacket covering Mary. We should bring her inside. Lucas winced, I don't think we're supposed to disturb a crime scene. The group exchanged uncertain looks. I think he's right. The police will want to see everything as is. Okay, Peter agreed. It just doesn't feel right leaving her out here. Well, it's not like anything is going to hurt her, Evelyn said. Kelly began to cry again. He split into pairs to search the house. I went with Evelyn, who walked briskly through the halls towards the kitchen. I have a hunch, she told me. The room was massive, dominated by a line of old gas stoves against one wall, a butcher block island in the middle, and all manner of cutlery,

pan, and pot hanging down from above like a forest of spiders. Evelyn moved efficiently down a row of cupboards, opening and closing each after a quick scan. I shoveled around. trying to look for any suspicious boxes left out in the open or on top of an ice box. The mansion really did feel like a place frozen in time, a window into what the world was like 200 years in the past. I don't think Mary put the phone's inside the oven, Evelyn whispered, causing me to jump and slam the stove shut. Sorry, I was just...

I was spared having to provide an answer when Peter's voice rang out asking everyone to come to the foyer. He sounded... Not panicked, exactly, but rattled. Considering how calm he'd been when faced with a dead body broken on courtyard stones, his new agitation was troubling. William and Lucas were already waiting with Peter when we arrived. Roger and Kelly rushed in a few moments later.

Peter was staring at the massive double door that rose above us, leading to the driveway. He turned to face us, running a hand through graying hair like he was dragging a rake across a yard. I can't get out, Peter said. Roger stood up and walked towards the door. It's locked? Not just locked. It won't open at all.

Neither will the windows. Roger frowned and tried the knob. It didn't even wiggle. He turned harder, broad face turning redder than his hair. When the door continued to resist, Roger put first a shoulder, then a boot into it. He might as well have tried to move a stone wall. William joined him and gave a three-count. The two men hit the door at the same time to absolutely no effect.

Stand back, please, Lucas said, hefting an antique chair over his head. He hurled the chair at one of the big windows next to the front door. The chair bounced off the glass without leaving a scratch. All of us stared until Peter broke the silence. Like I said, we can't get out. Kelly walked up to the window and began tugging at it. This doesn't make any sense. A house can't just trap you.

We can't be stuck. She began pounding on the window. Evelyn moved to her side and gently pulled her back. If everyone could get behind something sturdy, I'd like to try something, Evelyn said. We obliged. Evelyn hiked up her dress, showing enough skin to make my pulse start running. There was a black garter belt just above her knee. Inside of the garter was a holster containing a small black pistol.

It was a modern one, the kind of thing that appeared to be all plastic and sharp lines. Evelyn took cover behind a suit of armor on a stand at the end of the hall, aimed the gun carefully, with a two-hand grip, then squeezed off a shot at the same window Lucas had assaulted with the chair. I'd covered my ears when I saw her point the pistol, but the loud crack of the gun firing still made my teeth rattle. I saw that none of the others had thought to protect their ears, and several of them winced in pain. The initial bang was followed by two quieter pings. The first was the bullet-s striking the window and ricocheting back.

The second was it striking the wall above Peter and lodging into the wood. Evelyn slipped the gun back into the holster on her leg. Roger walked out from behind the bookshelf he'd been using his cover. What in the hell is going on? Why does a manor house have bulletproof windows? He glanced at Evelyn. And what is a nice girl like you doing with a Glock? Evelyn leaned her head to the side and brushed back her dark hair.

A jagged scar ran from just above her. shoulder nearly to her ear. When I was 17 years old, a man attacked me with a knife, she told Roger. I decided then that nobody ever gets to make me feel powerless again. We all emerged from our places of shelter. Lucas aimed a useless kick at the door. We should check all of the other doors and some windows, just in case, Peter suggested. I have a hunch. The entire house is locked down, but maybe there's something. Hey, sorry to cut in, But I just realized the other woman isn't here, I said. Everyone turned to look at me, and I suddenly felt awkward and confused.

The older woman. I can't seem to recall her name, gray hair, Victorian dress. Peter cleared his throat. There was no one else at the dinner party, Bruce. Just us here. Well, and Mary, of course. The house is supposed to be haunted, Lucas said. Maybe Bruce saw a ghost?

At first, I assumed he was mocking me, but his face was serious. I've seen a ghost here, Kelly said from where she stood in the corner. More than one, actually. I think they're watching us. The seven of us decided to move to one of the studies to discuss our options. Along the way, we tried a few side doors and exterior windows, but couldn't open any of them. It felt like something bigger than just strong locks and unbreakable glass. I got the impression that the house, or something in it, was not going to allow us to

leave. Kelly stayed quiet until we were all settled in among the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. William discovered a bar set inside of a model globe and appointed himself our bartender. I took a seat on a leather sofa next to Evelyn, sipping at my scotch. It tasted expensive and familiar, but distant, like something I hadn't experienced in years. My memory was still a puzzle, with most of the pieces scattered on the floor. but I was slowly remembering. Fox Flight Manor, for example, was coming back to me in exceptional detail.

I could picture the winding stairs and long halls with their fine rugs and portraits. I closed my eyes and saw the grounds, the gardens, the attic, and observatory and the parlors. Then I tried to recall my last name, and my thoughts fell through my mind like sand in a sieve. Peter was the first to break the silence once we were all seated. Kelly, when you say you saw a ghost, ghosts.

Okay, ghosts. Can you, uh, elaborate? Kelly was staring down into her drink, holding the glass with both of her small hands. I've been seeing them all night, mostly just shadows at first. Shadows where they shouldn't be, or that moved against the light. But the longer we'd been here, the clearer they become. I saw a few out on the foyer just now. They stood by the door and the windows.

I think... I think they're what's keeping us in the house. Do you see any spirits here now? Lucas asked. Kelly looked around at each of us, stopping for a moment to study each of our faces. Maybe, she said. But I'm not sure.

How is it that you can see these phantoms while the rest of us can't? Roger asked. Kelly shifted in. her seat. I'm a psychic. Like tarot cards and palm reading? William asked. No, I don't do any of that. I don't have a crystal ball or anything either. I've always just had some degree of extra sensory perception. Roger snorted. I believe her, Lucas said, glaring at Roger. What was it, Shakespeare said, something about there being more things in heaven and earth than dreamt of in your philosophy?

is a good way to put it, Roger mutter, getting up to make a new drink. I glanced at Peter. He was watching all of us quietly. I got the impression he was coming to a decision. I believe you too, Kelly, Peter said. And I think it's past time for all of us to provide a little more information about who we are and why we are here. Going by first names only was fun when we were playing a mysterious game, orchestrated by an equally mysterious hostess. But now that's all over. Are we sure? Lucas jumped in.

I mean, we came here for a murder mystery dinner party. Maybe. Peter shook his head. I don't know if you've ever seen a dead body before, Lucas. I have. Mary isn't playing a game with us. Are you volunteering to start, Peter? Roger asked, ice clinking into his glass.

Who are you? That's fine. My full name is Peter Banner, I'm a novelist, primarily thrillers and horror. I knew you looked familiar, Lucas said, grinning. Peter smiled back. How about yourself? Lucas Merritt. I'm a professor at the University of Maryland, paranormal research. Roger Waters, historian. Peter looked at me next, and I felt a coil of panic wrap around my rib cage.

The black blankness whenever I went looking for a memory was gone. Instead, it was now a crash of too much, too much light and too much noise, moments sprinting by and crashing into each other, going down in a tangle. I took a breath, trying to stop the commotion and collision, just long enough for me to remember some small details. I saw myself seated at a long table, talking into a microphone. Then there was a green chalkboard, white powder from the chalk, caught like dust modes in sunshine pouring through a window.

Fox Flight Manor. Looking down at the courtyard. Walking in the woods around the house. A name. Bruce Claire, I said, forcing a smile. I'm also a professor. Philosophy. Peter nodded.

I noticed that Roger was staring at me. An unreadable look on his face as he sipped his scotch. Hi, folks. I'm William D. Daver, architect. Kelly Salini, professional psychic. We all turned to Evelyn, who took her time responding. She waited until her glass was empty,

and Lucas was beginning to glance around. Evelyn Van Yorne, I guess you could call me a socialite. In practical terms, that mostly means I enjoy sleeping in, nice dinners, and traveling on the family dime. Van Yorne? Roger asked.

As in, one of Maryland's original millionaire families? Owners of, well, a little of everything now, I'm sure. Evelyn smiled, though only her lips moved. Guilty is charged. So three academics, an architect, a psychic, and a horror writer, Peter said. And a socialite? That's a bit out of place. May I ask why you think Mary invited you to this event, Evelyn? I know exactly why Mary invited me.

She always invites me to her odd little parties. I'm her sister. There wasn't a collective gasp, so much as a shared silence. Mary Van Yorne, Roger said. To think that I just had dinner with a pair of heiresses, he looked at Evelyn closely. I have to say, considering your sister was just murdered, you seem quite calm.

Eveleen smiled again. this time showing a flash of white teeth. I promise you, Mr. Waters, that I am calm, only in that I know the monster who murdered Mary is in this room with me. She looked around at all of us, and I don't plan on letting them leave Fox Flight. We sat in the study for the next half hour, considering our next steps. Lucas pushed the theory that the house was a spiritual maze and that we could use Kelly's gift to navigate our way outside. There was significant skepticism about the plan, not the least of which was from Kelly herself. She wasn't confident in her ability to see the hidden bones of Fox Flight.

I can just sense energy around us, watching us, waiting, I think, she said. I'm not sure why. Most of all, I sense hunger. But I can't tell where it's coming from, maybe everywhere. Evelyn suggested that we split up and searched the... entire house for any sign of a way out. Peter thought that was an excellent idea. Except instead of splitting up, we should all stay together. We took a group vote, and Peter's variation was the overwhelming winner. It felt a little ridiculous, seven of us moving as a cluster through the dim

halls of Fox Flight. After wandering through the first floor for several minutes, I noticed we were naturally breaking into smaller clusters. Lucas was peppering Kelly with questions. taking notes in a slim, leather-bound book. Roger, William, and Peter were together towards the front, the unofficial leaders of our expedition. That left me in the back with Evelyn. I kept glancing at her from the side of my eye, the distant, controlled kind of look that comes from good genetics and a lifetime of care. Nothing about her seemed artificial, but it did all look planned.

Eveleen caught me staring and gave me a grin, kinder than the ones she displayed in the study. I'm sorry about your loss, I said, since that felt like the expected thing to say. Thank you. How are you holding up? Evelyn rubbed her arms. Emotionally, numb, physically, freezing.

These halls are hell for drafts. I shrugged off my suit jacket and held it out for her while we want. Eveleen regarded it for a moment, and then smiled and slid it on. They say chivalry is dead. I guess I'm old-fashioned. Yes, I see that. The group in front of us stopped suddenly,

Kelly whispered, pointing up ahead to where the hallway forked and internal crossroads for the house. See what? Roger asked, squinting. Peter took a step forward. What are we looking for, Kelly? I see it, I said. Oh God, I see it.

It didn't have a fixed shape. The thing at the end of the hall was mostly shadow, though a few lines of light shone through here and there like veins. It was constantly moving, undulating and writhing. At one moment, shaped like a man, the next a pack of dogs, then a reaching tree. Kelly turned and locked eyes with me. I mouthed silently, she replied. We should move along, Kelly told the group.

I think... I think it would be better if we took the leftward passage. moving single file forward, as close to the wall as you're able. I still don't see a damn thing, Roger muttered. Peter led the way, pressed almost flat against the wall. As he passed the shadow shape, a piece of it floated over like a jellyfish on the tide. It stopped several feet away and bobbed up and down for a while before drifting back. We moved quickly.

When it was my turn to go by the entity, I felt a deep chill, so penetrated, and cold, I worried the acid might freeze in my stomach. There was a smell to the shadow stuff, too, and not an unpleasant one. I was reminded of burning leaves in the fall, of old paper and cinnamon and dust. Once we were through the passage, the hall emptied out into a grand ballroom. It was furnished with tall, carved chairs against the walls, large tables arranged for dining, and a massive empty space in the middle for dancing over black and white tiles. A freshly polished grand piano dominated one corner. Floor to ceiling, silk curtains billowed against an invisible draft.

There was a sweeping staircase at the end of the room rising up to the house's second floor. Lucas leaned against a marble pillar. You know, this place seems a bit bigger on the inside than what we saw on the outside. Of course, replied Evelyn. Isn't that always the case with houses like this? Peter clear his throat. Hey folks, I just want to check. You all see the shapes in the curtains, right?

I'm not going crazy, am I? I looked at the nearest pair of closed curtains. There was something hidden inside the fabric, a lump that had a vaguely human form. I see them, I said. Me too, Kelly said. I think I might as well, Eveleen added. reaching towards a curtain that's stopping short.

Same, said William. Lucas squinted. I, uh, okay, maybe there's an outline? Yeah, I don't know what you all are seeing, Roger said, advancing on a window. I saw a clear silhouette under the fabric, which disappeared when he swept the curtain back. See? Empty.

We're all just amped up right now, letting our imaginations run wild. Kelly walked towards the piano. Before she reached it, a note rang out, sharp, clear. It was followed by a string of notes that filled the ballroom. Roger was frozen with his hand still on a curtain. You heard that too, right? he asked. Roger dropped the curtain. It could be a player piano.

Evelyn rolled her eyes. I can personally promise you that Fox Flight is haunted. It was one of the major selling points for Mary. Was she an occultist? Lucas asked. in a manner of speaking, I suppose. I filled my empty time with wine and sailing trips and Italian sunsets. Mary invested into spellbooks and haunted houses and the like.

I always figured it was her way of trying to connect with our parents. They died when we were both very young. Fox flight was designed as a ghost trap, William said, running one hand down the back of a beautifully carved chair. He saw that we were all looking at him and continued with him. with a smile. I did some research into the property before accepting Mary's invitation for the party. This house has a fascinating history. It surely does, Rogerette, looking directly at me. I raised my eyebrows, but he frowned and looked back at the piano. Kelly was seated on the bench,

her hands hovering over the keys but not touching them. There's someone right next to me, she said. I can almost hear them, feel them. They want something. Kelly looked at us where we stood clustered around a table. She, I think it's a she, is mad at one of us, furious. But I can't tell who or why. Maybe we can communicate with them, I suggested. What do you recommend? Evelyn asked. She was still wearing my blazer, though the ballroom was warmer than the hallway.

It went well enough with her dress, and I was happy enough to see her in it. but she was watching me with an odd look on her face. I couldn't tell if it was anger or confusion or something else. Anyone see a Ouija board? William asked. Lucas shook his head. I've got six in my car, but haven't noticed any in the house. However, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box with a grin.

Never leave home without them. He lifted the box so we could all see the tarot design on the front. Kelly walked back over and winced. I don't really do that, she said. Lucas's face fell. Well, Kelly continued, I suppose we could try. I'll clear off a table, Peter offered, but Kelly shook her head. Not here, not in this room.

There's something wrong here, off, nasty. I don't want to stay here, and I really think we should go. She turned to Evelyn. Do you know if there are any rooms upstairs that, the observatory? I'm not sensitive to these things, but even I felt something when Mary took me there. The air is thin and cool there, like on a mountain. There's almost a hum.

That should work, Lucas said, pocketing the deck of cards. Let's hurry, Kelly said, leading the way towards the staircase. Wait! We turned to see Roger push the curtains all the way back from the window he was standing beside. He picked up one of the ornate chairs, struggling with the wait, then hurled it at the glass. It bounced off and fell to the floor. Yep, we're still trapped, he said.

The trip to the observatory was quick but eventful. From the moment we climbed the stairs to the second floor, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being followed. At the top of the landing, I heard someone whisper. Noobel, the voice said. I turned, but there was no one on the stairs behind me. Both Kelly and Evelyn were staring at the same spot as I was. so I knew I wasn't the only one who heard the whispered name.

We moved on with Peter leading the way, after the ballroom was another series of hallways, more narrow than those on the first floor. We passed rooms every dozen feet or so, and I didn't have to check to know that each of them were locked from the outside. There was one door that was larger than the rest. It sat at the end of the hall before the path split again. Peter stopped a few steps before reaching the door.

The rest of us piled in behind him. Something's wrong, he said. But I'm not sure what. I do, Eveleen said. We'll be fine as long as no one tries to open that door. Just walk past it, single file, and try not to look at it. Take a left where the hall splits. The seven of us formed the line and shuffled forward.

I was at the back with Lucas in front of me. When he passed the door, he froze. Lucas reached out a hand towards the doorknob. I grabbed his wrist before he could touch it. Lucas, I hissed. Hey, Professor, what are you doing? The young guy didn't seem to hear me at first. I gave him a shake, and he finally turned to look at me.

His eyes were severely dilated. She, what's out? Lucas said. I think. Did she ask me, or? I'm sorry, I'm confused. I gently pushed his arm down. It's okay.

Let's keep moving. At the end of the next hall, Aveline stopped in front of a set of four doors. The pictures on the walls around us were different from others we'd passed. Instead of old portraits, these were mostly landscapes that seemed like they were taken directly out of nightmares. I saw an oil painting of a fox hunt. Only the humans had the heads of dogs, and the foxes were busy tearing the guts out

of a horse. Another picture was of a tiny ship on the ocean, with a great shadow rising beneath it from the deep. I don't think we should linger here, I said, eyeing a suit of armor that I could swear twitch. Agreed, Evelyn replied. Only I can't remember which of these doors leads to the observatory stairs. Roger kept glancing behind us.

I followed his gaze. The hallways seemed darker where we passed. The light from the sconces were growing dimmer by the minute. Just pick one and check. Roger snapped. Kelly shook her head. We don't want to open. the wrong door, not here. It's the one on the far right, I said. Everyone looked at me.

How do you know that? Peter asked. I opened my mouth and closed it. How did I know which door led to the observatory? I was absolutely sure it was the one on the right, but completely baffled where that confidence came from. He's right, Evelyn said before I could answer. She opened the door, revealing a narrow, winding staircase. Hurry. We can talk once. were at the top. The stairs ended at a door. Evelyn opened this one without hesitation and headed inside. Once we were all in the observatory, no one spoke for a moment. Calling the room beautiful barely started to describe it. We were standing in a glass dome with dozens of panes of glass joined together by silvery metal supports. There were a number of telescopes fixed in place. The largest

was at least ten feet long and thick as a dinner plate. Millions of stars burned above us in a perfectly clear night sky. There was a quarter moon high in the east, a bone-white scar against the black. Fox flight was far enough out in the country that there was no light pollution to dim the stars. It felt like you could see all the way to the end of things if you looked long enough. Evelyn was pulling chairs over to a small table covered with white linen. We can start here, she said. Lucas, Kelly?

Hold on, Roger said, pointing at me. First, I have some questions for Bruce. So do I, Evelyn said. But I think the spirits here can help find answers. Don't worry, I'm watching him. I held up my hands. Listen, I know this sounds unusual, but I genuinely don't know how I knew the correct door.

Have you been to Fox Flight before? Peter asked. I don't think so. But I honestly can't be sure. My memory is, well, it's been jumbled all night, Kelly said, sitting down at the table. Can we have your cards, Lucas? He handed Kelly the deck of tarot cards and shot me a sympathetic look. It was clear the group suspected me of something, maybe even Mary's murder. And the worst part is, I couldn't be sure they were wrong.

I noticed that both William and Roger moved closer to me while Kelly was shuffling the deck. Did they think I was going to make a break for it and wander alone through a locked haunted house? Peter, at least, seemed to be focused on the tarot reading. I understood what Evelyn meant earlier when she said the air in the observatory was different. It wasn't cold exactly, but it tasted almost filtered and empty. I took a deep breath and felt a head rush. There were shapes that flickered in the corner of my eye, drafts without an evident source, and the hum Evelyn mentioned.

It wasn't so much a sound as a feeling, like standing in the crowd, but without the crowd. Kelly placed several cards face down. Spirits, can you hear me? Can you answer? Lucas shifted on his feet, glancing around the room. I thought she said you didn't know how to do tarot readings. I said I don't do them professionally, Kelly replied, not taking her eyes off of the cards. But I had to pay for college, and it was easier than waiting tables.

She cleared her throat and touched the first car. Spirits, can you? Kelly's head snapped back so far, I was worried it would break. She screamed in a dozen voices at once. Evelyn was the first to reach her. Kelly was already coming out of her trance, gasping for air, tears catching starlight on her cheeks. Oh God, Kelly said.

There are so many, so many, and they all want life, and our lives. Lucas crossed himself. Roger looked around the room, fists clenched, like he was going to need to fight off a pack of ghosts wearing bedsheets. Kelly looked at me. Slowly, she scooped up the tarot cards she laid out and added them back to the deck. Bruce, I need you to draw a card. I felt a chill. I'd really rather not.

It wasn't a question, Kelly replied, offering the deck. Roger and William moved even closer. Evelyn gave me a cold look that reminded me she had a gun. Neither Peter or Lucas made eye contact and accepted the deck. I had the top card almost pulled when Kelly shook her head. You have to shuffle first. I obliged her, shuffling, then fanning the cards. They moved with a crisp snap.

I pulled a card from the middle of the deck once I was done and laid it on the table without looking. I heard the sharp intake of breath. Death, inverted, Kelly said. I looked down to see the smiling death mask of the Grin Reaper staring up at me. Again, please, Kelly brought it. My next card was the hermit. She asked me to draw a third and final time.

The hanged man. I don't understand what any of that means, I said, placing the deck back on the table. I'm not sure either, Roger said. But I do know you're lying about something, maybe a few things. For example, I don't think your name is Bruce Clare. Claire is the family name of the original owners of Fox Flight. I did my research. His name is Bruce Abbott, Evelyn said.

I know because I saw Mary's guest list, and we've met before. He's not a professor. He's a podcaster. True crime. So why the deception, Bruce? I took a step away from the group. Look, I swear, I have no ill intent here. I just, I just can't remember everything.

The night's a blur. Maybe I hit my head or... If you knew Bruce was lying, why didn't you say anything earlier? Peter asked. Because I didn't know why he was lying. Because the Bruce I knew would never hurt Mary. But you, do you remember killing my sister?

Evelyn asked. She reached into the sports jacket she was wearing, my jacket, and pulled out a folded razor from the inner pocket. Nobody said or did anything. for a long moment. Then several things happened at once. I opened my mouth to protest. Peter swore, Kelly gasped, and Roger reached for my arm. It was the last action that caused me to move. Reflexes took over. When Roger grabbed my wrist, I folded my other hand over his, locking his grip.

I stepped towards the bigger man than swooped, taking his arm with me, dragging him across my hip. Roger sailed a short distance and landed hard on the floor in his back so that he was looking up at the stars. The thick rug broke his fall slightly, but it still looked painful. I stood up and looked down at my hands. I didn't mean to throw Roger when he grabbed me. In fact, I had no idea I knew how to do that. Bruce, please sit down, Evelyn said. I turned to face her.

She was holding that pistol again. The small plastic-looking one that I knew could put a few dime-sized holes in my body in a blank. I raised my hands slightly and sat down across from Kelly. You're not Bruce, Evelyn said. At least, not all Bruce, are you? I don't know what you mean, and that isn't my razor. If you're trying to frame me, that's a terrible way to do it. Would I have lent you my coat if I knew the murder weapon was in there? Fair point, Lucas said, helping a dazed Roger to his feet. That does seem odd, Peter agreed. Evoline took a seat at the table. He would give me the jacket if he didn't know the knife was in there, though. Or maybe he did it to rub it in, because he doesn't

think we're getting out of here. I don't understand, Peter asked. All night long, our friend here has been going back and forth with who is in control, Eveleen said. There are two spirits in that body, aren't there? She leaned closer to me, still holding the gun. Who are you? And, why did you kill my sister? And where is Bruce? I looked around the room from face to face. All were confused. Most were angry. I... I really wish I knew what you were talking about, I said. Two spirits? Bruce Abbott, the owner of the body, Eveleen said. And you, whoever you are. My guess is one of the Clairs, an old spirit and a strong one. You hijacked Bruce sometime after dinner, then murdered my sister. Why? Her last word was like a nail

jammed into my temple. Then the sensation came again, and I looked at Kelly. Her eyes were locked on me, her hands shaking with effort. The pain came a third time, and I gasped, almost falling out of my chair. An avalanche of memories blinded me. The courtyard, a kiss, an old classroom with wooden desks, the view from on top of Fox Flight Manor, from the roof before there was an observatory, a razor, a soft throat, falling, falling, and falling. The rush of blood. The rush of blood. death and perfect warm life. I woke up when cold water hit my face. I tried to wipe it away

and found that my hands were tied to my chair with some kind of soft cable. My legs were bound as well. The rest of the group stood around me in a half circle. We were still in the observatory. What are you doing? I rasped, throat sore, head pounding. Lucas and Evelyn were consulting together

a little way from the rest of the group. Evelyn looked at me when I spoke. An exorcism. We're pulling you out of Bruce. Lucas went, I believe you and Kelly that there are two spirits there, but I've never performed an actual exorcism in the field. Just practice, you know?

Do you know how it works? Sure, academically. And you brought a Bible. Lucas pulled out a slim, leather-bound book from one of his apparently infinite jacket pockets. I also have a Quran and Torah, but those are out in the truck. He said,

This is crazy, I said, pulling at the bonds. Peter put a hand on my shoulder to calm me. I agree that it's all unconventional. But you have to agree that nothing is normal right now. Let them try, okay? You're all crazy, I said. I'm me. Who else would I be?

We'll find out, Evelyn promised. You can start when you're ready, Lucas. Kelly, well, everyone actually. please close your eyes and concentrate on Bruce. Hold one thought in your mind. Who are you? Understood? There were nods and other affirmations.

I was focused on Lucas as he started to read something in Latin. This is ridiculous. The word spun, and suddenly I was falling. At first, I thought my chair tipped over. I could see the stars cold and bright above me. But I realized I wasn't seeing them through the observatory glass. I was outside and I was falling. My screams lost in the rush of air.

Then, without any transition, I wasn't falling anymore. I was standing on a landing above the courtyard waiting. Who was I waiting for? Mary came out and walked over to me. I folded her in an embrace and we kissed. It wasn't the first time. I was her secret. She was mine as well,

though I had much larger secrets than a wealthy paramour. I only saw a few times every year. She was in love with me. Except it wasn't me. Another change without warning, and I was looking down on the couple from above. The woman was there, Fox Flight's latest owner,

and there was a man with her, a man who stank of death. She called him, Bruce. I saw so much red on him. He was stained with blood, soaked in it, even if it was invisible to anyone living. There was violence in the man,

and I knew he killed many, many times. I sensed that he wasn't there to kill that night, but the urge was never gone from him, only sleeping. Bruce and Mary argued. I felt his anger as it built towards something cruel and lethal. But if that was Bruce, who was I? Eubel Claire. The name rang out and I remembered.

I was Eubel Claire. Or I had been long ago. My parents had built Fox Flight. and I'd lived there until my 33rd year. I'd climbed to the tallest tower that stood then, and I'd jumped, breaking my body on the courtyard stones. I couldn't remember why I'd jumped, maybe heartbreak or some professional shame,

whatever the reason. I regretted at the moment I'd left the roof. I was the first to die at Fox Flight, but far from the last. I wore away over the years like a sheet, left too long on the line. The sun left me faded, and the wind carried pieces of me. away, but I endured. Over time, the house filled with other lost souls who yearned for life.

We were echoes, a hollow presence, or maybe an absence, a need. My name was Eubel-Clair, and I died so long ago. I watched from my hidden place in the shadows of the library as Bruce and Mary argued. I saw the man pull out a razor from his jacket and use it with the easy efficiency of a lifetime of practice. He pushed Mary over the before her face even registered the cut. I felt her die, just like I had 200 years before, bleeding out and shattered on the courtyard stones. The sudden violence of her death sent a ripple through those of us who drifted around the house.

There had been a murdering fox flight before, but not like this. And then there was the man. He was steeped in death, a butcher who had seen so many bodies breathe their last breath. His act blurred the barrier between life and life. and after for just a moment, just long enough for one of us to slip through. Dozens tried, but I was the first and the fastest. The collision when I became Bruce felt like the fall that killed me. His memories and mine crashed together and scattered.

I hadn't felt life in so long, seeing with eyes, and the smell of the courtyard flowers and Mary's blood beneath us, the sound of night birds and the taste of the wind and the howl of all the other spirits who were too slow. It overwhelmed me. I nearly blacked out, moving automatically towards the one place I felt safe. The library. I stood there, frozen and blank, until a scream snapped me away.

I opened my eyes, my borrowed eyes, and saw chaos. The observatory was on fire, but there was no heat and the flames were dark. Shadows rose and crashed and whipped between the terrifying living things around him. The exorcism was waking the spirits in Fox Flight Manor. They hungered for life, for a return, for vessels, just like I did. I looked around it. Kelly was screaming and clutching Evelyn. Lucas appeared ready to collapse, but he kept reading.

Peter, Roger, and William were all standing together, either guarding the ceremony or stunned by the reverberation of the dead. Ed. Even Roger, the non-believer, clearly saw the spirits. A voice was yelling at me. Have to fight it, Bruce! Kelly shouted. You have to remove the phantom. It's your body. Fight! Something yanked me back into the blackness, and then I was back in the memory of the courtyard. Mary's body lay crooked and cold in the middle of the space. There was a man in a dark suit, standing in the shadow of a tree. I looked down and saw that, for the first time in so long, I had substance, shape, a form. I was Eubel-Clair, tall and solid, and dressed in my favorite slacks

and sweater, the ones I wore when I took long walks around a fox flight in autumn. I've been trying to get you back down here all night, the man, Bruce, said. Why did you kill her? I asked, looking at Mary. She loved you. Bruce shrugged. I've killed a fair few people that thought they loved me, but they only loved what I showed them, the part I played. Mary just overstayed her welcome, I guess. He stepped forward into the moonlight.

He was much larger than I was, the true me, that is. Have you had fun, ghost? A good time running around in my body, thief? Bruce spat the last word. I inclined my head towards Mary's corpse. I'd withhold. moral judgments if I were you, I said. Get out of my body, Bruce roared.

At the same moment, I heard the distant hum of Latin from above and all around. I was caught in the middle of the push of Bruce's rage and the pull of the exorcism. I felt a terrible ripping feeling and a rush of blind panic. I'd been dead so long that being torn from Bruce might end me completely like a spider web pulled apart. The push and pull lasted a moment longer. Then it relaxed. Bruce was advancing on me with a straight razor, but a calm washed over me. He's not doing it right, I said.

Bruce stopped. Doing what? Lucas and his exorcism. It took me a minute to notice, but his Latin is awful. Not to mention, he's attempting to remove a demon with his ritual, not a human spirit. Get out! Bruce growled. The unseen force hit me again, but weaker this time, like wind from a dying storm.

No. I think I'm staying. Bruce came for me with the razor. He was fast and knew what he was doing. When I threw Roger, that must have come from Bruce's memory. In the real world, I would have died fast, or slow, if that's what Bruce wanted. But we weren't in the real world. We were somewhere caught between.

Neither of us was physical or whole. All we had was will and memory and want. I wanted more than anything to live. to see the sun again with true eyes, to breathe air, to feel anything, everything. Bruce slowed as he came closer. Poor Bruce, he didn't yearn for life. For him, it was simply a tool, a place where he could hunt. He loved death for so long that maybe it began to love him back. Bruce froze two steps in front of me. Razor lifted towards my throat, but harmless. The fight was over, and he didn't even realize it was happening. You've done such terrible things with your life,

Bruce, I said softly. I don't feel that you deserve it anymore. He didn't reply, only able to glare at me with a hatred so deep, no light would reach the bottom. I listened and heard the sound of Latin faintly all around the courtyard. Lucas wasn't doing a great job, but it would be enough for what I needed. I think you'll feel at home at Fox Flight. I reached out and touched the killer's chest. He wavered for a moment and then began to dissolve. Pieces of him floated up into the night sky like smoke until there was nothing left.

I took a deep breath and then opened my new eyes. Did it work? someone asked. How can we tell? Kelly should know. Do we need the tarot cards again? I might have lost them when I had to scramble away from that. thing? Bruce? The observatory came into focus. Evelyn was hunched over in front of me, looking into my eyes. I was still tied up. Bruce, is it you? she asked. She was so beautiful,

like moonlight trapped in water, and she was so very alive. Yes, I lied. I'm me again. Thank you. Kelly confirmed that there was only one spirit inhabiting my body to everyone's great relief. We even pulled tarot cards again to be sure, but this time I saw the other spirits. Those faded, jealous fragments. When they came close to disrupt the deck, I reached out with my will towards the nearest one and swallowed it whole. I was me again, but I was also Bruce with all of his memories and the terrible fernment. of his life. They hated me for escaping, but I knew they'd do the same given the chance.

That's why they were keeping us trapped in the house, hoping for an opportunity to take the bodies of the rest of the group. Glad to have you back, Bruce. Peter said after my terror reading came back benign. Now, that solves one of three problems. What are the other two? Lucas asked. He was sitting next to Kelly, and I could almost see the invisible thread growing between them. It made me smile. Well, we're still trapped, William said, scratching his beard. I don't know what problem three. My sister's body, Eveleen said.

Isn't that a matter for the police? Once we figure out a way to leave Fox Flight, of course, Roger suggested. Evelyn stood up and pulled the razor from the jacket. I was glad she was still wearing it. If we involve the police, they'll investigate the death, she said. That does sound like them, Lucas remarked. Yes, and, given all of the evidence, I hazard that they might even solve the case

and realize that Bruce is the killer. But he's not, Kelly protested. It was that evil spirit that possessed him. I decided not to correct the record, despite the slander. Evelyn nodded. I know that. We all know that. But are the police going to believe it?

Or is Bruce going to be arrested for a crime he didn't commit. Are you suggesting we cover up your sister's murder? Roger asked. Evelyn was silent for a few breaths. The spirits and fox flight already claimed one life tonight. I'm reluctant to give them another. She looked up at me and smiled,

and I felt our thread growing as well. Evelyn didn't know about Bruce and Mary. She only thought they were friends who shared a common interest in true crime and the occult. I knew that because Bruce knew that. He'd left me his memories, or I'd taken them. The end result was the same. I knew that Bruce knew Eveleen cared for him.

She was going to be his next victim after Mary. Or perhaps, after he'd killed his way through a few hitchhikers and co-eds. She's right, Peter said. I know it's risky, but we can't let Bruce take the fall for killing Mary. It's not that much of a risk, Evelyn said. Mary was a rich hermit, isolated. Other than me and a tiny pool of friends, Mary kept to herself. Our parents are dead.

If she goes missing, it won't be noticed for a very long time. She's disappeared before, by the way. Many times over many trips, sometimes for weeks, occasionally for months. We can take the body somewhere secluded. and clean up the crime scene. By the time the police decide to investigate Fox Flight, there won't be any sign. However, this all depends on us agreeing to this secret. Evelyn looked at each of us in turn.

We nodded back one by one. Roger took a long moment to consider, but eventually he inclined his head. All right, Peter said. He's two out of three. But how are we getting out of here? Didn't you feel it? I asked. Lucas's exorcism. It was powerful.

I think it might have broken whatever held the doors. Lucas blushed. He'll never believe that I got the ritual right back at school. I was always flubbing the Latin during practice. You're just good under pressure, I guess, I said with a grin. I think we should try the front door. The spirits of foxfly trailed us as we left the observatory, but they kept their distance. They were spiteful and hungry.

but they knew that I saw them, and that I could pull them apart, then feed the ashes to new life inside of me. The six souls keeping the main door shut backed off reluctantly as I approached, snarling like dogs denied table scraps. Roger immediately picked up a chair and got ready to throw it out a window. I signaled for him to lower it, which he did, but didn't look happy about it. I tried the knob. The door swung open with a click. It was rather easy for us to hide Mary's body. Bruce had some excellent tips which I provided with the excuse that I learned it from researching cases from my podcast.

I've started seeing Evelyn quite a bit. All of us stay in touch, bound by a shared secret. So many secrets. I know all of Bruce's secrets now, how he hunts, how he hides, where he keeps his knives and his rope and where he buried the bodies. He was a sick man, and the world is better without him. However, I'm starting to fade a little. Death remembers me, and it wants me back.

Soon, maybe a year, maybe a little more. Bruce's life won't be enough to sustain me. I think I need more. Bruce was already a perfect hunter. With his memories and his tools, I might keep myself alive for a very long time. For that, I'm sorry. But isn't life so lovely?