LEGEND OF THE HAUNTED MANSION : PART 3

LEGEND OF THE HAUNTED MANSION : PART 3
by James D. Cunningham
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Chapter Two

Carol slowly opened her eyes. She could feel that she was being dragged across a floor by both of her arms. Not daring to move or struggle, she tried her best to focus on her surroundings. It was hopeless, of course. She was far too groggy from whatever that was that she drank earlier.

Carol could make out only the flickering of candles which hung on the walls of what appeared to be a rather narrow hall. But the noises! THAT she could hear. Muffled sounds of screaming and shouting. There was the rattle of doorknobs and what sounded like fists beating against a door, and that unnerved her more than anything else that had happened that night.

She wasn’t sure who or what was dragging her along, but by the sound of their voices, she didn’t WANT to know. She listened carefully as she tried harder to make out the sights around her, though what they said made no sense to her.

"She’s playing with fire, that one is," said one of them, whose voice sounded more like a salivating wolf, if wolves could talk.

"Aye," said the other, who sounded like an old man whose vocal cords had been crushed, "one day she’s gonna push the Master too far. She knows that he has been dabbling in The Arts for some time now. Soon his powers will match hers...maybe even her mothers’. She better watch out!"

"Yes, yes!" replied the first. "I’d love to see that little wench trapped in her OWN little glass world like her mother."

Suddenly there was the sound of a squawking bird. By the sound of its wings, it must be a big one, thought Carol. It seemed to be flitting back and forth over them.

"Damn crow!" said the old man. "Ow! Stop that! Stop pecking me, you demon bird!" As he tried to swat the large black raven attacking him, he inadvertently let go of Carol’s arm.

"Grrrrr!" growled the other. "I’ve had it with that bird! I’m gonna wring his little neck! Let’s get him!"

Dropping Carol with a thud to the ground, he swung violently at the bird as it dodged his fists. Carol could hear the kawing of the bird as it flew away down the corridor, and the thumping of feet as her two captors chased it.

Carol lay absolutely still on the floor until she was sure they were gone. Now she was alone, with nothing but the cries of voices coming from behind the doors. She tried to pull herself up onto her feet, but she was still quite light-headed and fell hard against a wall.

Turning to the wall to brace herself, she suddenly got a rush of adrenaline as she looked at what appeared to be thousands of little glowing eyes staring at her from the walls. Silly me, she thought to herself, its just wall paper. Ugh, how horrid!


Looking down the corridor, she saw nothing but darkness at both ends. Slowly Carol began to make her way back down the hall, in the direction she had been dragged from. The storm outside was still raging, and lightning momentarily illuminated the hallway. At just that moment, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something move. That’s ridiculous, she thought. It’s just a door.

Ever so slowly she moved closer to the door to inspect it. Looking closer she realized – it WAS moving, and she covered her mouth to stifle a scream. The door pulsated and buckled, like the stomach of a giant wooden man breathing in and exhaling. She backed away quickly and almost tripped an a torn piece of carpeting.

Carol wanted to run, but the sound of the wood floor under the carpet made loud squeaking noises. She headed down the hall, forcing herself not to look at the doors as she passed them, and trying to block out the screams and appeals for help coming from behind them.

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Chapter three

Dick O’Dell, the caretaker of the Mansion, peeked around the door post of the dying room. Seeing THAT many ghosts in one place was not something he was keen on seeing for more than a few seconds, and even less so when he had to go in among them. He saw Mrs. Gracey standing by the fireplace, and, although she was always kind to him, even she wasn’t a comfort in the presence of so many ghouls. Remembering the way they liked to taunt him, he began to back away from the door.

Just then, Leota marched passed him and into the room, bellowing loudly, "Let’s go, Dick! We haven’t got eternity!"

Dick took half-steps, his legs shaking so hard it was a wonder he could stand at all. "We’re waiting!" shouted Leota. All eyes were on Dick as he stepped into the room.

"Hello, Mr. O’Dell," said Mrs. Gracey in her soft voice, "How are you this evening?"

Dick, his hand shaking wildly, removed his cap as he addressed the ghostly mother of his master. "H-H-H-Hello, M-M-Mrs. G-G-G-Gracey."

"Alright, enough with the small talk, yak-yak, and flim flam," Leota interrupted. "See that one over there on the floor? Take him to my chambers immediately."

Dick stood frozen on the spot. Waltzing over to him with her hands on her hips, Leota said, "Ya know, DICK...I know a few pirates that would just love to have their way with you. So either move your butt over there, or I’ll move it over to THEM!"

"Must you be so crude? And just how, pray tell, do you expect this withered frame of a mortal to lift a full grown young man?" remarked Eddy tartly, leaning against the back of a chair with his arms folded.

Noting that Eddy still had his spot light shining on himself, she retorted, "I see you’re still consumed with your own fabulousness. You know we hate bright lights, so why don’t you cut that thing off and make yourself useful."

Suddenly she seemed to change her mind about acting smart towards Eddy, and she floated over to him, putting on her best pouting face and voice. "Oh pleeease, be a sweetheart and help me....just this once."

"You’re joking."

"I promise. Just this last time. I’ll even ask my mother to arrange for you to put in a few public appearances."

"And how would she do that?"

"Are you kidding? Hollywood is full of creeps. Some of Mother’s dearest acquaintances are producers and directors. And I know that you’ve been dying for a little exposure lately. I promise."

"Well, alright then," said Eddy. "Let’s go, bag-o-bones; we’ve gotta body to haul." After a bit of a struggle with Mike’s body, and with a touch of Eddy’s levitation abilities to lighten the load, they dragged Mike up the grand stairway.

Leota called after Eddy, "And turn off that damn light!"

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Chapter Four

Carol made her way to the end of the hallway. Before her, she could just make out the first two steps of the Great Staircase; but beyond that was total darkness.

"Well, I’m sure not going down THERE!" she said to herself. But what else was there to do? Obviously a staircase of this size must lead to a main entrance. Her only other choices were either to go back the other direction, or, to take the other hallway she had passed which appeared to lead into the interior of the house. Neither of those two choices was inviting, to say the least.

She closed her eyes and tried to think clearly. It did little good. Well, either way, she couldn’t just stand there. Surely her captors would return soon to look for her. And besides, this suit of armor against the wall was giving her the creeps.

With every ounce of inner strength she could muster, Carol moved her foot down to the first step of the staircase. But something at the back of her mind made her stop. Yes, there was fear, but there was something else.

Then she realized what it was. Michael! How could she just leave him in this terrible place? She knew she couldn’t. She had to find him. But where to look in this huge house? THAT was the question. He could be anywhere. And judging by the astoundingly large number of doors in this hall alone, it could take her hours to search the entire mansion for him. She shivered at the thought. The last thing she wanted to do was to run into one of those horrible people again.

Stepping back again away from the stairs, she decided to try the other end of the hall. If there WAS an end to it, she certainly couldn’t see it from here. But one thing was for sure, she had to keep moving.

She took no more than a few steps towards the other end of the hall, when suddenly the first door on her left slowly began to open. The hinges made an awful squeaking sound. There was no place to hide; and she couldn’t run away even if she tried. She was glued to the spot with blood-curdling fear. Who would come out of that room? WHAT would come out?

But after a few moments she realized that no one (and no THING) was coming out at all. From where she stood, she could see a faint flicker of light coming from far within the room. Lit candles suggest that the one who lit them might still be around. Then again, she remembered that Eddy had lit all the candles in the dying room with merely a verbal command. Maybe the entire house was lit up in such a fashion. If that was so, then maybe there was no one around after all. She could only hope.

Carol crept closer to the door and peeked within. Once her head was passed the door jam, she discovered that the room was actually brighter than she thought it was. It was as though the darkness of the corridor kept the light of the room from passing the door. Nevertheless, it was still too dark to see with any great clarity.

The room appeared to be filled with large plants. At the head of the room lie a large oblong box set upon a dais. In the far corner was what appeared to be a preacher’s podium. Several small chairs and end tables littered the place. But most importantly, it appeared that there was no one else in the room.

Treading lightly, Carol entered the room. She discovered that the large plants in this room were actually bouquets of flowers. Dead and withered flowers. Apparently the house-keeping in this manor was not up to specs.
At the podium she saw a few pieces of paper and a small Bible. Carol thought it quite odd to find a Bible in a place like this. It was covered with thick dust, which she blew off.

Carol wasn’t all that religious, but the warm memories of church picnics and Sunday school classes as a child somehow made her feel a little comforted. She decided to take the little pocket-sized Book with her, just for moral support.

She also dusted off the sheets of paper that sat on the podium. Carol read it aloud quietly. "Here lies our brother, Jamie Padgett, respected business man."

Looking about the room, she noticed that there were no pictures or objects of any kind on the walls. A bright flash of lightening illuminated the cause: the entire room was made of glass, presumably designed as a conservatory.

But the lightning had revealed something else as well. It seems that the box she had seen was more than just a box. Its distinctive shape betrayed its identity. Carol’s heart skipped a beat as she realized that both the presence of the coffin and the notes on the podium – not to mention the lack of mourners – implied that the late Jamie Padgett’s body had not yet been buried.

Carol heard a creaking sound. Slowly at first, then with more urgency. She looked closely at the coffin and noticed the lid starting to move. Carol instantly ducked down behind the podium. She was blinded with panic. Only in nightmares had she ever imagined such a thing. She wanted to look, but she couldn’t move.

The sound of creaking continued. In fact, it sounded like the whole coffin was coming apart. Whatever was inside of it was trying desperately to get out. Carol was certain that she didn’t want to be there when it did.

She could see the door from where she was crouching behind the podium. Maybe if she ran she could get out of the room before "it" got out of the box.


Keeping her head down, Carol began to tip-toe toward the door, keeping the coffin in view but not daring to look straight at it. Suddenly she heard the kawing of a bird in the direction of the coffin.

Turning quickly around, she saw that it was a big black raven. Could this be the same bird she had heard earlier out in the hall? And how did he get in here without her noticing? She stood staring at it in disbelief.

"Awk! Awk! Come! Come!" said the bird to her. Carol wondered whether she should go to it. Could she trust it? After all, it seemed to have saved her from her captors a while ago.

Stepping slowly towards the bird (but not too close), she was intrigued that it did not seem afraid of her. "Awk! Mr. Padgett! Mr. Padgett!" it said.

"Uh, what.....what about Mr. Padgett?" replied Carol curiously, speaking in a normal volume. Her voice echoed in this room.

"Awk! Leota’s toy, Mr. Padgett," it said in its bird voice.
"Thinks he’s a vampire. Awk! Always tries to get out, but never does! Awk! Awk!"

"Hello?!" came a terrified voice from the coffin. Carol jumped back so fast that she almost broke her leg against a table. "Hello? Leota, is that you? Please, please let me out! Leota!"



Though thoroughly frightened, Carol felt a twinge of pity for the man. "Should I let him out? What should I do?" she asked the raven.

"Squawk!! Why?!"

"He might suffocate in there!"

The bird made a sound resembling a laugh. "Awk! But he’s already dead! Nothing to do for him now! Nothing to do! Nothing to do! Squawk! This is what happens to men who reject Leota! Awk!"

"Let me out of here, please! Let me out!" pleaded Mr. Padgett.
Carol was speechless. The poor man, locked in a coffin for eternity.

"Why does he think that he’s a vampire?"

"Awk! There! Over there! On the table! The book! The book! Awk! Look in the book!"

Carol saw an old rugged book sitting on an end table against the glass wall. Dusting off the cover, she could just barely read it.

"Ghost Gallery" it said. Opening it, she discovered that all the pages were sealed together except the pages which spoke of Mr. Padgett.

She started to read it, glancing up at the coffin now and then in pity.

It said,



GHOST GALLERY: ENTRY #467


Name: Jamie Louis Padgett

Born: 1 April 1888, New Orleans, LA

Died: 8 November 1936




"Jamie Padgett was a wealthy plantation owner in New Orleans, renowned for his indigo and sugar cane crops. Because he was of great social prominence, he held many cotillions and balls. At one masquerade ball, he had the misfortune to meet Little Leota, who rarely left the Mansion. She decided she wanted his plantation, so she seduced him and married him. But Jamie loved the plantation and would not transfer the title to her.

One evening Madame Leota introduced him to a "friend" of hers from London. He said his name was Nicholas Crown and that he was interested in starting his own plantation. Jamie was only too happy to share all his knowledge with Crown. As they strolled through the grounds of the Mansion, Crown suddenly insisted he was a vampire. Jamie laughed, and with amazing speed Crown grabbed Jamie and drove his teeth into the poor man’s neck. Jamie woke up the next evening in his room, Little Leota insisted that he had slept through the day. He realized that he must be a vampire and began the disturbing habit of sleeping all day in a coffin, only rising to roam the Mansion by night.

One evening Jamie heard strange music and muffled crying. As he tried to open the coffin lid he found it would not yield. The coffin would not open! He fought and screamed for help, never suspecting that his beloved bride Little Leota had nailed it shut. For seven nights he fought and struggled each evening. He would succeed in cracking the lid almost enough to escape, however by that time it was sunrise. When he would see the light of day through the tiny slit, he would close the lid in mortal fear of the sunlight. Of course, Little Leota would renail the lid shut every afternoon. When his struggles finally died with him, Little Leota claimed the plantation and turned it over to her adulterant partner, Nicholas Crown, who had never been a vampire."




Placing the book down, she turned again to the raven. "Oh, the poor, wretched man! How horrible!"

"Awk! Not to us! Not to us! Squawk!"

Realizing that she had wasted too much time in here, she decided to leave in search of Mike again. "Do you know where they took my boyfriend Mike? I need to find him."

"Awk! Yes!" was all that it said.

"Well, where?!"

"Awk! Can’t tell! Can’t tell! Kaw-kaw!"

"What?! Why not?!"

"Squawk! Only Madame Leota can say!"

"HER? Ugh! I don’t want to see her again."

"No! Awk! That was her daughter! Her daughter!"

"So, then where do I find this ‘Madame Leota’ person?"

"Person?!" the bird laughed itself into a fit. "No person! A head! A head!"

"Ahead of what?" Asked Carol, totally confused.

"Awk! Never mind!" giggled the bird. "This way to the Madame! This way! This way!" And with that, the dark raven took off out through the door and down the Corridor of Doors into the darkness beyond.

"Wait!" Carol called after him. But it was too late. He was gone. As she started for the door, she gave one last, parting glance to the coffin. Pleas for freedom continued to gush from the box. "Good-bye, Mr. Padgett," she whispered, "I’m sorry." She closed the door behind her.

Out in the hall Carol swallowed hard at the thought of having to walk back down that corridor again, with all of its creepy doors and mad sounds. But that was the direction the raven flew, so onward she went.