by Lora Darc
“Wait, Terri!” Michael called. “What a little coward,” he said to Grace, shaking his head.
Grace laughed softly. She pointed her light back at the vanity and noticed something behind it.
“Micheal do you see that?” she said shining her light toward the back of the vanity, at the corner. Michael stepped closer and directed his light behind it. He shifted the vanity out of the way and leaned down, picking up the hidden object. In his hands was a calendar-sized portrait of a woman, set in a fancy wooden frame; a painted portrait in soft acrylics and oils. They both shined their lights on the woman’s face, staring. Grace grew cold and still.
“Damn. She almost looks like…” Michael looked up at Grace who continued to gaze at the portrait. “You don’t think…?”
“Can you take it out of the frame?” Grace asked, her voice trembling.
“Uh, sure, one sec.” Michael went to the bed and carefully popped the corners of the portrait out of its frame, setting it aside. He turned the portrait over. Written in barely readable letters were a name and a date.
“Grace Caron, eighteen eighty-six.” Michael read. “Caron... that’s a French name right? Glad your last name is Baldoni or this would be really freaky, huh? Still…”
Grace reached for the portrait and Michael reluctantly gave it up. Grace glared at the woman’s face in terrified wonder.
“You don’t think your family…?” Michael began to say. Grace shook her head.
“I have some French-Canadian on my dad’s side. I don’t recall any coming from New York back then. My grandma moved here in the fifties.” Grace subconsciously went to sit on the bed.
“Maybe someone was distantly related. Or maybe it’s just a coincidence.” Michael said.
Grace shook her head again. She couldn’t stop looking at the woman who was a near image of her. The resemblance was beyond uncanny. Grace gave the portrait back to Michael.
“Let’s just forget we saw it,” Grace suggested. “Let’s go back downstairs.”
Michael nodded in agreement. He placed the portrait back in its frame and set it on the vanity. As they left the room Grace thought she heard a whisper of a name. A chill ran down her back and she quickly followed Michael back downstairs.
***
When they reached the living room, they found Terri sitting close to David, clinging to his arm. David was slouched over, the vodka taking a toll. Victoria was gone.
“Vic is taking a piss.” David pointed outside to a small outhouse. Grace nodded and sat silently on the tarp, not saying a word. Michael rummaged in his pack.
“You guys seriously saw something huh?” David asked, looking at their now pale faces. “Terri mentioned some man…”
Michael shrugged. “Probably some trick of the light.” He didn’t look at Grace who glanced over at him. She knew what she saw, but didn’t say a word. Didn’t want to scare Terri any more than she already was.
Grace tried to picture the man more in her mind. He had been tall—taller than either David or Michael—and well built. Lean yet large in a way that Grace could imagine a muscular body under the dark vest and suit he had been wearing. His eyes, though green like a human’s, had shined out in the darkness like a cat’s. His dark brown hair had been near black and was styled in short waves. He was an older gentleman—compared to them—perhaps in his early thirties. He had a regal air about him, but also a look of gloom and dejection. He had terrified her. As most ghosts would. But he had also sparked an intense and deep curiosity to know more.
A patio door opened and Victoria stepped back in with a flashlight and a roll of toilet paper in hand. She stumbled back over to them, collapsing on the ground with a groan.
“Fuck, I’m getting too old for this shit,” she mumbled as she pulled a water bottle from her pack.
David snorted. “Please, you’re like twenty-two. My dad could run circles around all us when it comes to shots, and he’s double our age.”
“Yea, except he doesn’t smoke as well, smart-ass. Damn, I need to remember not to do that.” Victoria laid out on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She turned her head over to Grace and frowned. “Damn, girl, you look like you’ve seen a…” She sat up and looked around at the now quiet group. “Shit... what did you guys see?”
“Think they saw him. The Shadow Man,” David answered. “Ouch, Terri, don’t cling so hard!”
“I didn’t see him,” said Terri, shivering. “Michael and Grace said…”
“Trick of the light,” Michael said. “We were just fucking with you, Terri.”
Victoria and Terri looked over to Grace who had remained silent. Grace looked at them both and shrugged. “I don’t know what I saw,” she lied.
“You guys seriously better not be messing with me,” Terri said.
“We told you this place was a real haunt. Guess you didn’t believe us,” Michael said, taking his pipe and lighting up again.
“Or you’re just fucking with me. Grace, seriously, what did you see?”
“I just saw a shadow,” Grace lied again. She didn’t know why she didn’t say the truth. Maybe to scare them less. Maybe to scare herself less; thinking it was just her imagination.
Victoria laughed. “You kids took too much THC to the brain.” She whipped out her phone to check it, then growled in annoyance remembering that there was no service.
David began to laugh as well and soon Terri joined him. Michael turned up a smile and chuckled and Grace couldn’t keep the grin from forming on her face. Their laughter echoed softly through the room and down the hallway for a solid minute.
“Yea, you’re probably right, Vic,” David said, taking the pipe again that Michael was offering.
A dull thud came from the dark hallway behind them and the group turned their heads to the sound. Grace lifted her eyes to the ceiling where a movement caught her attention and saw the chain from the chandelier swinging softly.
“I think you all are taking this shit too seriously,” Victoria said after another moment of silence. She went through her pack and took out a pair of speakers. “And I’m sick of sitting here in near quiet. If this is a party, then I’m making it one.” She hooked the aux cord to the speakers, connecting it to her phone.
“No service remember?” Michael said.
“Yea, I know. I downloaded a playlist.” Victoria spread the speakers out and turned up the dial. The beat of music started loud and harsh, a mix of hip-hop and electronic. Grace frowned and looked around nervously.
They drank a little more and chatted ideally. It was growing late, but there was no sign of sleep in them just yet, though David was slouching badly and Victoria was swaying and laughing more than usual. Grace too found herself laughing for no reason, at either David’s tasteless jokes or Victoria’s quips, soon forgetting about what she saw and how she had felt. Terri was a chatterbox when she drank, but was soundly ignored. Michael chilled lazily on his pack watching them with amusement. At one point Victoria pressured Grace and Terri enough to dance around the room as if they were ladies from the eighteen hundreds; pretending to wave fans and scoff at the boys. When they collapsed back on the tarp again, they giggled and fell back. Grace could feel her head swimming.
“So you guys never told me,” Victoria started while catching her breath and resting against her pack, “what did you find up there anyway?”
“Up where?” Michael said, his eyes half closed.
“You know, upstairs. Was there any cool antiques or was it completely cleaned out?” Victoria asked casually while turning the music down.
Grace caught Michael’s eye for a second then turned back to Victoria.
“We found a bedroom actually,” Michael said rather quietly.
“Wait, seriously?” said David, now sitting up a little straighter. “I thought for sure Dad took everything out.”
“Not that room apparently. No idea why,” Michael said. “There was a bed and a vanity…”
“You jerk, you said there were no bedrooms.”
Victoria glared at him with a pout on her lips.
“It’s not exactly a bedroom you can sleep in, Victoria. The bed is at least one hundred and fifty years old. It would probably collapse as soon as you laid on it.”
“What the hell you trying to say?” Victoria’s eyes narrowed.
Michael looked around at them and back at her. “That it’s old.”
Grace laughed. “She thinks you meant that she was fat.”
“I might not be as petite as Terri or even as small as Grace, but damn Michael—”
“That’s seriously not what I was saying,” Michael interrupted, growing increasingly annoyed. “I’m saying it’s an old ass bed, a serious antique.”
“It was pretty nice though,” said Terri. “Had a canopy with drapes and everything.”
“Oh, really? I want to check it out.” Victoria rose to her feet.
“Maybe wait till tomorrow. You can barely stand let alone go up a flight of stairs,” Michael commented.
Victoria waved away his comment. She swayed dangerously and sat back down. “Someone should totally sleep in there though… just to see what it’s like. And see if they encounter anything, don’t you think? You know I’m not scared.”
“You would seriously sleep up there alone?” David smiled and shook his head. “You’re crazy.”
“Oh, you saying you wouldn’t?” Victoria said.
“Sure am. Dad told me enough about this place.”
“What about you, Michael?” Victoria looked over to him.
Michael shook his head. “Dust makes my allergies act up.”
“So full of shit,” Victoria mumbled. “And we all know Terri is a wimp.”
Terri scoffed at the comment. “I am not!”
“I saw you running back and clinging to David like a little kid, don’t deny it.”
“Cause they freaked me out when they said they saw someone! Any normal person would, I think.” Terri sat defensive, though they all knew she wouldn’t go back in that room for all the money they had on them.
They all looked over to Grace.
“Well, Gracey, what do you think? You got the figurative balls to try it?” Victoria smirked.
Grace’s eyes flicked over to Michael who looked her over seriously but said nothing.
She thought about the portrait they had found. The man they saw. It scared her. But, whether it was the drugs coursing through her veins or some strange sense of curiosity, she wanted to know more. The thrill of it made her feel brave. Another part of her just wanted to prove to Victoria and the others she had the guts to go through with it.
Grace shrugged. “I’ll do it, sure.”
Victoria raised her brows. “Oh yea, you sure? You looked pretty shook up earlier.”
Grace just smirked and shrugged again. “I’m not scared.” At least not completely, not like Terri, she thought.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Michael said, looking at Grace uncertainly.
David and Terri took up protests; wanting to see their friend get scared out of her wits. Victoria crossed her arms.
“She can take her sleeping bag up and sleep on the floor if the bed is that fragile. She’d be doing the same here anyway,” remarked Victoria.
“I’ll do it,” Grace said to Michael. Michael leaned in towards her.
“You really wanna go and sleep in there after what we saw?” he whispered.
Grace stared back at him. “Just a trick of the light.” She got to her feet and took up her sleeping bag and pack. Michael got up as well. David and Terri cheered her on.
“Yea, Grace, you got balls, seriously.” David took his phone from his pack. “Here, I got a lot of storage on my phone. If you see anything, take video.” He handed her the phone and Grace reluctantly took it though she didn’t plan to use it.
“Let’s see if you last the night though. My bet is we’ll be hearing your screams in no less than an hour tops,” Victoria said.
Grace smiled down at Victoria. “You’re on.”
Victoria’s brows raised as she smiled up at her.
“I’ll walk you up at least,” said Michael, taking up a flashlight.
“Text us while you’re up there!” said Terri.
“No service remember dum-dum.” David gently pulled on a strand of Terri’s hair.
Grace only swayed a little on her feet, having consumed less than the others. Though her head still swam, she felt more focused than before.
“I promise not to laugh too hard when you come back freaking out.” Victoria winked.
“Tell the Shadow Man I said ‘hello’.” David laughed.
***
Grace crept up the stairs with Micheal following close behind. They didn’t say a word until they approached the door to the bedroom once again. They glanced at each other for a long moment than Grace went for the knob. Michael reached out a hand to stop her.
“This is stupid,” he whispered. “You seriously want to do this? You don’t have to prove anything.”
Grace smiled at him. “It’s a room, Micheal, nothing more.”
“And the man we saw?”
“A trick—”
“You know what you saw.”
Grace merely looked at him. The flashlight in his hands pointed to the ground making his face look gaunt. She reached for the flashlight and he let her take it.
“If I get too scared, I’ll come down.” Grace gave him another smile and went for the door. “I’ll probably pass out before I see anything anyway.”
She turned the knob and the door creaked open, louder than before. The bedroom looked unchanged. Nothing stirred.
“Maybe leave the door open... just in case,” Michael said at the doorway while Grace set her things down and unrolled her sleeping bag.
“Fine, sure.” Grace took out a small crank lantern from her pack. “I’ll scream if I need you.”
Grace gave Michael back his flashlight while cranking her lantern until its yellow light filled the room. Michael seemed to hesitate for a moment before turning back towards the hallway. Grace could hear the creak of his footsteps fading as he walked back downstairs. She set herself down on the ground and turned her head over to the vanity. The portrait of the woman still lay on top. Grace got up and took it once more. She sat back down and stared, fixated, on the woman that looked like her. Studying every detail, she realized the woman was certainly not her, but merely resembled her. Her eyes were darker and her hair fairer. Her mouth thin and more stern. She had a more conservative, sophisticated air about her, but her eyes held laughter and curiosity. Grace took the portrait out of its frame once again and studied the back.
“Grace Caron…” she whispered to herself. Her brows furrowed in thought. She decided she would ask Michael tomorrow if she could borrow the picture and show it to her family. Her only living grandmother might know something about the woman; if perhaps there was a relation.
Grace set the picture back in its frame and placed it on the ground beside her. She sighed, feeling slightly dizzy from the drug effects, and laid back on her bag. She peeked at her phone to see the time. Two twenty-five. Her friends would likely be up for another hour before they would pass out.
After settling in for a moment, she realized she could hear the muffled voices of her friends below her, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Their voices were a comfort in the darkness. Her eyes fluttered shut and she felt herself fade into sleep to the sounds of their laughter.
***
Wake up, miss, wake up.
Grace stirred awake as she heard a door close nearby. She groaned and turned her body away.
Ah. She will ruin her hair lying like that. I will have to fix it.
A light touch on Grace’s shoulder drew her out of sleep completely. Her eyes flew open to see a woman staring down at her.
“Miss Grace, you fell asleep. The guests have arrived, your father will be expecting you,” said the woman in a stern, but polite manner. “I will be right back to fix
your hair.” The woman left her field of vision and she heard the door close again. Grace saw a canopy above her and a warm glow around her. Cautiously, she sat up and looked about the room. She was lying on a bed of red satin, the drapes from the canopy pulled away to reveal a room lit by several candles with a small fire burning in a fireplace in front of her. Grace looked all around as if in a trance. A clean vanity sat nearby against a wall colored in burgundy and decorated with golden flowers. She went over to it and looked into the mirror to see a woman that looked like her staring back, only she wore an elegant dress and her hair was up in golden-brown curls. The eyes were the same sea-blue and the lips were full and red. Grace blinked and so did the woman. She stared into the mirror for a long moment until she looked down and saw the dress.
Grace gasped as she saw herself adorning a gown in deep red with a velvet waistline and layers of skirts underneath. The bustle was thick in the back and the collar low in the front with the short sleeves catching just on the edge of her shoulders. Little delicate flowers had been sewn into the bodice and on the sides of the waist. A few were also woven into her hair.
Before Grace could process the image before her, the woman from before stepped back into the room with a fine comb and a few hairpins.
“Please sit, miss,” the woman gestured to the seat beside the vanity. Words caught in Grace’s throat, too stunned to make a single noise, so she did as told and sat down.
I am dreaming, she thought. This is a very vivid dream.
The woman—whom Grace studied now and could see she wore a servant’s attire—began brushing a few stray strands of hair and pinning them back into place.
A clock chimed somewhere nearby and the woman set the comb down.
“There, aren’t you a vision.” The woman adjusted a few flowers in her hair then stepped away. “Your father is down below with Master Nicoli. He is eager to meet you.” The woman bowed then left the room. Grace got up and stood in the middle of the room. She hesitated at the door for a moment wondering what she should do.
If it’s just a dream, then I have nothing to fear, she told herself. She stepped over to the door and opened it and a wave of light and sound flooded into the room.
