Chapter Text
The Dickenson Manor was a haunted house located in a clearing at the center of Hardwood Forest. Hikers and explorers who happened to come upon the mysterious yet alluring house remarked on how well-kept it seemed for a place that lacked any indication of residents. The paint was not chipped, the rooms were all cleaned, and the utilities worked just fine. There was a garden of flourishing plants and even a kitchen stocked with fresh food and drinks. Sometimes the furniture would differ from visit to visit. People would come and go at various times of the day, whether through unlocked windows or by prying open the loosely secured door. In some instances, the door would open at the ring of the bell, only to show no one behind it. Was it automated? Speculation remained speculation within small forums in the corners of the internet.
The first piece of evidence that the house was supernatural was surveillance footage captured of all the house's entryways. An amateur investigator who set up cameras in each room managed to capture up to a week of footage on livestream. Throughout the stream, there were no people, no moving objects, no flashing shadows, but only a few pixels shifting from time to time.
That was until a sudden brown creature came into frame. A cockroach scurrying around the kitchen counter, big enough to be seen on camera. The stream viewership went from 1 to 100 to 1000 as people tuned in to watch a bug crawl across the screen. This was the first known instance of a non-human appearing in the house and they did not want to miss it. The roach explored the counter for a mere minute before it was crushed by an invisible force. And then, the cameras went black.
"No fucking way."
"Roach dead?????"
"The house claims its first victim."
"Late to the stream, chat what happened?"
"A bug appeared and the ghost killed it."
"😮😮😮"
From then on, the house blew up in the supernatural community. Influencers known for faking content would sensationalize the manor and visitors increased with every development. While no one was harmed, those who attempted to vandalize or insult the property developed an inexplicable desperation to leave and were later haunted by nightmares that they could never recall. Paranormal investigators visited, but not many could elicit signs of spiritual activity from the house. The few that could found peculiar results.
"Are there any spirits in the room with us?"
"…"
"…"
"Are there any spirits--"
"No."
"Alright, there's our answer. Let's pack it up."
"If there is a spirit in this room, can you turn on the flashlight for us?"
"No."
"Hahaha, Ryan, I don't think this spirit likes us."
"Oh, ya think? Why don't you like us? Can you tell us why?"
"Rude."
"We're rude?! What did we do that was rude?"
"Shoes."
"It doesn't like our shoes. Are you judging our shoes? These are 200$ Air Jordans by the way."
"Door."
'Pfthahaha. Door! It wants us to leave!"
"Is that true, do you want us to leave?"
"Clean."
"It's a yes or no question."
"How about this, are ghosts real?"
"No."
"Oh, we got a comedian here. Stop laughing, Shane."
"Ha."
"Okay, before we leave, I have one more question. Why is the attic locked and what’s in there?"
"…"
"Guess this is a tough one."
"Magic."
"Alright. That's enough, we're done here. Let's go."
Just what was Dickenson Manor? Who lived there and what did they do? What secrets was it hiding and what kind of spirits resided there? Were they demons or lost souls of the damned? Every investigation brought more questions. You needed to see for yourself.
You were by no means a professional, but you had some minor interactions with what you believed were supernatural entities in the past. Pens writing on their own, toys moving, whispers by your ear. You were sure you were in touch with the spirit world, regardless of what others said. You knew the occult better than any of those fakers. If you could reveal the truth behind Dickenson Manor, you’d become the queen of the occult.
The method was to do something no one had ever done before: live in the house for at least a day. People had visited during the early hours of morning and the darkest hours of night, from a normal afternoon to the cursed witching hour of 3 AM. But none had ever been able to remain for more than 24 hours, much less 12 or 6, before being driven out by fear.
You would be different. You were nothing like those idiotic, disrespectful influencers who visited the house before you. You knew how to treat spirits. Surely, you’d make it the furthest and cleanse the house of haunting.
After a grisly hike through Hardwood Forest, you finally found the manor. It was as tall and elegant as the pictures, maroon walls and dark wood roofs with stain glass windows and a porch with a swinging chair. A hedge surrounded the property and a small gravel path led to the backyard. Flowers decorated the stairs leading up to the door. Seeing it in real life, this house didn’t seem haunted at all.
You approached the entrance and hopped up the stairs. There was a welcome mat at the door, on which you wiped your boots clean. Your eyes landed on the ivory doorbell and after pressing it slowly, the door creaked open. Holding your breath, you pried the door wider and peaked inside. There was a small corridor leading to the living room and kitchen, both illuminated through the windows by light from outside. You entered the house and quietly shut the door behind you, peeling off your shoes and setting them on the nearby rack.
You tread through the house carefully, trying to contain the excitement of finally being here. The home had a sweet scent, smooth wooden floors, and pristine burgundy walls decorated with paintings of fruits and plants. While you were eager to explore, your stomach was begging for food and you desperately needed a shower. You hung your jacket at the rack and left your hefty backpack and suitcase near one of the wooden chairs in the kitchen before running up to find the bathroom. You had yet to feel a sense of unease so things must've been going well.
After a quick shower, you wiped off your feet on the rug and wrapped yourself in a towel. There were still a few hours before evening, giving you time to unpack and get to know the layout before the spirits became active at night. You still needed to set up your cameras and get changed. The room arrangement rarely changed but sometimes, the furniture would shift to a place not indicated on the most updated blueprints. While it wasn’t impossible for something spiritual to occur during the day, those instances were only in reaction to extreme behavior from visitors.
The bedroom was combined with a study, a desk with bookshelves on one end, and a bed with drawers on the other. You set your suitcase at the end and quickly got your things out. You packed planning to be living there for a while. The bed was king-sized and the desk was the perfect space for recording vlog entries. You set up cheap cameras in every room, hoping they wouldn't be destroyed before you could download all their footage at the end of your stay. Once everything was set and your first vlog entry had been saved, you headed down to prepare dinner.
The sun had set and now was time to rely on the warm indoor lights. You came down to the kitchen, decked with black graphite counters and a circular table with a crimson tablecloth. There were only two chairs at the dining table. The number chairs was also something that changed between visits and no one knew why. Your theory? The house always had enough seats for all the guests, plus one more. You poured out two cups of tea and prepared two plates of food with the ingredients you found, setting the other meal down across from your chair. Despite being alone, you felt a delighted presence in the room.
You turned off all the lights and lit candles at the dining table. Your hands pinched the planchette of a worn Ouija board that you bought from a second-hand store. "Are there any spirits present in this house that would like to speak to me?"
"H-I"
Oh, that was fast. The candles flickered. You were startled by the planchette's sudden movement. "Can you tell me your name?"
"W-H-O"
"Yours?"
"W-H-I-C-H-O-N-E"
Were there multiple spirits? "Um, all of you. How many of you are there?"
"Y-O-U-L-L-F-I-N-D-O-U-T"
"Okay... Can you tell me how you ended up here?"
"M-A-G-I-C"
"What do you mean by magic? Did someone curse you to be here?"
"N-O"
"Then why are you here? What happened in this house?"
"W-E-R-E-S-E-A-R-C-H-I-N-G"
"Searching for..?"
The planchette flew to 'Goodbye' as the candles returned to their full vibrancy. You sat there astonished at the curt interaction. "H-Hello? Can you come back?" No reply. You sighed. At least they didn’t seem hostile for now.
You yawned. Tired from a long day of travels, you decided to turn in for the night and save the exploring for tomorrow.