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Fill for kinkmeme's Ghost Story prompt, as well as for much newer Halloween prompt.
Enjoy the Halloween, everybody! ^.~
Story so far : Professor Calculus was invited to England by his old colleague, younger brother of Lord of Moonshire, and he took Captain, Tintin and Snowy along. The Manor feels slightly strange (especially to Snowy and Captain), but nothing unusual happened. Yet, the second night of their visit is about to begin.
Warnings : Tintin/Haddock established relationship. Spooky stuffs.
part one this part part three part four part five part six [next parts pending]
Captain breathed out. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of anxiousness in this room. Not only because he was there alone and his boy has room at the other end of incredibly long hallway, but it was something else. Something in the air, in this house. He couldn’t name it, but it made him nervous. And on top of everything, he lied to Tintin. He didn’t get a wink of sleep previous night, he simply couldn’t fall asleep. He toppled to bed with loud sigh, too tired to drag his legs up. If only he could cuddle Snowy. (Or, better, Tintin.) But the white dog was loyal and when they had to use two rooms, he always sleeps with his rightful owner. Maybe hot bath could relax him.
Tintin snapped the book shut. Nothing interesting in this one. Perhaps the next would be more informative about the history of manor.
Snowy looked at clock. It was past eleven and his master showed no intentions to lay himself down to sleep. He will stay awake whole night, reading those dusty books. Again. Snowy rolled his eyes and settled on Tintin’s unoccupied bed.
It didn’t feel right to leave Captain alone in that dangerously smelling room, but …
But it is Tintin, not Captain, who has the troublesome tendency to get knee-deep into any (un)thinkable problem, when Snowy is not around.
There was light touch on Archibald’s calf, the feeling of something small and furred grazing him. Captain mumbled and shifted slightly, his drowsy mind slowly processing this situation. He fell asleep basically the moment he landed on bed. No bath, no changed clothes and still in shoes. He closed his door before. Snowy was in Tintin’s room that time.
Then, what did …
Archibald is wide awake at that instant. With yelp he jerks himself to seating position, moving his legs to safety on bed. Relative safety.
His room is drowning in darkness, pale light of moon and stars hidden behind clouds is barely enough to make outlines distinguishable. He can not remember where the lamp is.
And he hears something breathing under his bed.
Cuthbert sleeps. No power, human or not, in the whole world would be able to wake him up.
Archibald breathes frantically to beat the rising tingle of panic.
No no no no no.
Why is this happening to him?
What is under his bed?
“S…ss…ssSnowy?”
The wooden floor creaks.
Archibald looks sharply up. He could not see a thing but he would swear …
The wooden floor creaks again. This time slightly closely. And again. And again. Footsteps. Aiming towards his bed.
Footsteps.
Tintin puts away the book and looks at his door. For second he thinks that it is Captain, but his footsteps sound different. And it is midnight, exactly, he surely will be long asleep. Perhaps Professor, he is somnambulant sometimes. But Snowy rises his head and growls threateningly.
The panic won.
Archibald squeaks, frozen to the spot.
Something is in his room and it is-getting-close-and-it-is-DARK-HERE-
But then the instincts he developed while adventuring with Tintin kicks out, and he searches his pockets for the confounded small box of matches hectically, praying to every god and saint he can remember.
The footsteps are drawing closer in regular unnerving rhythm and he finally finds the small life-saving box and jerks it open, scattering the content. He sobs and grabbles around blindly.
The invisible something is almost by his bedside.
He strikes a match with quivering hands and tightly shut eyes.
Absolute silence.
After few incredibly loud and incredibly fast heart beats he cracks one eye open.
He is alone in this chilling room.
Archibald’s teeth start to chatter uncontrollably.
Knowing that Snowy would not growl at any of his friends, Tintin springs at his feet and hastens to door, reading lamp in his hand. He opens the door wide without second thought, wanting to catch that intruder red-handed. But the hallway is empty. He looks around quizzically. He could swear that he heard footsteps. Yet there is no one. Snowy jumps down from bed, once again growling silently, apparently slightly nervous.
“It’s all right, boy.” Tintin shudders at the coldness of corridor and closes the door. “Probably …”
The footsteps sound again, right behind his door.
Tintin exhales sharply.
How is this possible?
He whistles to Snowy and throws his door open.
The flame of the match flickers and Archibald quickly grabs another one to light it up from the weakening flame. He is sure that letting the light die would be the absolutely worst idea. Right now, he would kill for proper electric lighting. He would surely spill the oil from reading lamp at himself. He can not gain control over his trembling hands, but the possibility of dropping the match and set the bed afire is the last of his worries.
What … what … what was that?
Where is that intrepid ginger landlubber when man needs him?
The valuable China vase is knocked down from chest of drawers in Cuthbert’s room with loud crash.
Professor rolls over and mumbles: “Arrange an appointment.”
There is faint sound of footsteps on corridor, which Archibald previously did not notice. They are drawing close and he holds his breath back. They stop behind his door. The doorknob starts rotating. He yelps, terrified like never. Door clicks and opens with hideous screech.
author's notes
Feeling cliffhanged?
x As a fact, paranormal activity in supposedly haunted hauses does not occur (for while) when somebody new appears. Be it investigators, guests or new owners. Ghosts are shy creatures. Mostly.
x I imagine Tintin being the type to read till morning without any particular reason.
x When Calculus sleeps he sleeps. Seriously, bomb went off in his room and knocked his bed outside and he didn't move the slightest! [See 'Destination moon'.]
Enjoy the Halloween, everybody! ^.~
Story so far : Professor Calculus was invited to England by his old colleague, younger brother of Lord of Moonshire, and he took Captain, Tintin and Snowy along. The Manor feels slightly strange (especially to Snowy and Captain), but nothing unusual happened. Yet, the second night of their visit is about to begin.
Warnings : Tintin/Haddock established relationship. Spooky stuffs.
part one this part part three part four part five part six [next parts pending]
The Mystery of Moonshire Manor (part 2)
Captain breathed out. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of anxiousness in this room. Not only because he was there alone and his boy has room at the other end of incredibly long hallway, but it was something else. Something in the air, in this house. He couldn’t name it, but it made him nervous. And on top of everything, he lied to Tintin. He didn’t get a wink of sleep previous night, he simply couldn’t fall asleep. He toppled to bed with loud sigh, too tired to drag his legs up. If only he could cuddle Snowy. (Or, better, Tintin.) But the white dog was loyal and when they had to use two rooms, he always sleeps with his rightful owner. Maybe hot bath could relax him.
Tintin snapped the book shut. Nothing interesting in this one. Perhaps the next would be more informative about the history of manor.
Snowy looked at clock. It was past eleven and his master showed no intentions to lay himself down to sleep. He will stay awake whole night, reading those dusty books. Again. Snowy rolled his eyes and settled on Tintin’s unoccupied bed.
It didn’t feel right to leave Captain alone in that dangerously smelling room, but …
But it is Tintin, not Captain, who has the troublesome tendency to get knee-deep into any (un)thinkable problem, when Snowy is not around.
There was light touch on Archibald’s calf, the feeling of something small and furred grazing him. Captain mumbled and shifted slightly, his drowsy mind slowly processing this situation. He fell asleep basically the moment he landed on bed. No bath, no changed clothes and still in shoes. He closed his door before. Snowy was in Tintin’s room that time.
Then, what did …
Archibald is wide awake at that instant. With yelp he jerks himself to seating position, moving his legs to safety on bed. Relative safety.
His room is drowning in darkness, pale light of moon and stars hidden behind clouds is barely enough to make outlines distinguishable. He can not remember where the lamp is.
And he hears something breathing under his bed.
Cuthbert sleeps. No power, human or not, in the whole world would be able to wake him up.
Archibald breathes frantically to beat the rising tingle of panic.
No no no no no.
Why is this happening to him?
What is under his bed?
“S…ss…ssSnowy?”
The wooden floor creaks.
Archibald looks sharply up. He could not see a thing but he would swear …
The wooden floor creaks again. This time slightly closely. And again. And again. Footsteps. Aiming towards his bed.
Footsteps.
Tintin puts away the book and looks at his door. For second he thinks that it is Captain, but his footsteps sound different. And it is midnight, exactly, he surely will be long asleep. Perhaps Professor, he is somnambulant sometimes. But Snowy rises his head and growls threateningly.
The panic won.
Archibald squeaks, frozen to the spot.
Something is in his room and it is-getting-close-and-it-is-DARK-HERE-
But then the instincts he developed while adventuring with Tintin kicks out, and he searches his pockets for the confounded small box of matches hectically, praying to every god and saint he can remember.
The footsteps are drawing closer in regular unnerving rhythm and he finally finds the small life-saving box and jerks it open, scattering the content. He sobs and grabbles around blindly.
The invisible something is almost by his bedside.
He strikes a match with quivering hands and tightly shut eyes.
Absolute silence.
After few incredibly loud and incredibly fast heart beats he cracks one eye open.
He is alone in this chilling room.
Archibald’s teeth start to chatter uncontrollably.
Knowing that Snowy would not growl at any of his friends, Tintin springs at his feet and hastens to door, reading lamp in his hand. He opens the door wide without second thought, wanting to catch that intruder red-handed. But the hallway is empty. He looks around quizzically. He could swear that he heard footsteps. Yet there is no one. Snowy jumps down from bed, once again growling silently, apparently slightly nervous.
“It’s all right, boy.” Tintin shudders at the coldness of corridor and closes the door. “Probably …”
The footsteps sound again, right behind his door.
Tintin exhales sharply.
How is this possible?
He whistles to Snowy and throws his door open.
The flame of the match flickers and Archibald quickly grabs another one to light it up from the weakening flame. He is sure that letting the light die would be the absolutely worst idea. Right now, he would kill for proper electric lighting. He would surely spill the oil from reading lamp at himself. He can not gain control over his trembling hands, but the possibility of dropping the match and set the bed afire is the last of his worries.
What … what … what was that?
Where is that intrepid ginger landlubber when man needs him?
The valuable China vase is knocked down from chest of drawers in Cuthbert’s room with loud crash.
Professor rolls over and mumbles: “Arrange an appointment.”
There is faint sound of footsteps on corridor, which Archibald previously did not notice. They are drawing close and he holds his breath back. They stop behind his door. The doorknob starts rotating. He yelps, terrified like never. Door clicks and opens with hideous screech.
author's notes
Feeling cliffhanged?
x As a fact, paranormal activity in supposedly haunted hauses does not occur (for while) when somebody new appears. Be it investigators, guests or new owners. Ghosts are shy creatures. Mostly.
x I imagine Tintin being the type to read till morning without any particular reason.
x When Calculus sleeps he sleeps. Seriously, bomb went off in his room and knocked his bed outside and he didn't move the slightest! [See 'Destination moon'.]
no subject
Date: 01/11/2012 04:35 (UTC)From:Keep it coming! :D
no subject
Date: 01/11/2012 17:44 (UTC)From:Most of the noises in old houses can be explained logically. Like leaking pipes, squeaking floor, and so on ... but sometimes ... sudden noises in the dark are terrible! I live in a block of flats build in 40's and I tell you, the door to the tiny lumber-room creeps me out constantly. It refuses to hold shut. It sporadically opens with dull thud sound and when it happens in the middle of the night (especially when I am all alone in the flat), I always jump out.
no subject
Date: 01/11/2012 17:21 (UTC)From:Me too. He would probably get so absorbed into something, like research for a story, and time would just fly right by.
Hahaha! I remember that, I'll never forget it XD
If it's a ghost in Captain's room, it's certainly not shy! :D Looking forward to more!