In the dark hallway of the manor, the late Count stood. He gave off a cold, pale glow that phantoms give off. He wore a suit, black and neat. A tie hug around his neck, red and a little crooked. His body was who, but slightly skinny, as though his last moments alive were just him wasted away. In his hand was a sword, though it was hard to tell if it was a sword he was buried with or if he had found it within the house. The Count's face was unreadable, but ghosts tend to be unpredictable with their responses.

The Countess stepped forward, “father,” she said, “it is you right?”

Donitelo stepped between the Countess and the Count, “you shouldn’t get too close, ma’am. He’s a phantom now.”

“A phantom?”

“A ghost driven by a single desire to the point it will do anything to fulfill it. Doesn't matter who you were back when he was alive, this man is not your father now.” the ratfolk pointed his sword at the phantom, “You can talk right? Tell us why you haven’t gone to the Otherside.”

The phantom vacantly stared at the ratfolk. In a low raspy voice, he answered, “the stone. Give me the stone.”

Donitelo tightened his grip on the sword. He must be talking about the stone in the hidden room. The sigil on the door must have been preventing him from getting to it. What is so special about that little pebble? It might be better to retreat now than try to fight him. “Gonzolas, when I give the signal, we run. You lead while I guard our rear” The ratfolk reached into his pocket and pulled out a compact mirror.

Gonzolas nods and moves behind the Countess and Matilda.

The Countess looked confused, “wait a minute, Father talked about a stone. If we give it to him-”

The Count’s eyes widened, “you have the stone?” the Count stepped forward, his face twisting, “GIVE ME THE STONE!” the Count raised his sword and charged.

“Now,” Donitelo opened the compact mirror. The mirror gave off light as a copy of Donitelo appeared in the hallway in the path of the phantom.

The phantom didn’t stop and charged into the sword, letting out an inhuman howl. The house creaked and groaned from the scream as though itself have been stabbed.

“Run!” The ratfolk screamed as the group ran to the back staircase. The duplicate shattered as the group left, bits of glass shooting out everywhere from where the duplicate stood, with most ending up inside the walls and the Count.

The group ran to the closest exit they could: the kitchen. Gonzolas grabbed the knob of the door leading outside. The knob refused to turn under the elf’s grip, “it's stuck,” he screamed. He looked out the window and backed away horrified. On the other side was another ghost, not of the Count but a human butler.

The Countess gasped as she saw the face, “Charles?”

“Charles? You know him?” Donitelo asked.

“Yes, he disappeared before Father died. Why is he a ghost?”

Behind the group, the cabinets opened and closed themselves repeatedly, their contents flew directly to the group. Everyone got on the floor as plates crashed into the walls above, and pieces of ceramic fell on them. On the stairs, the Count’s voice echoed, “give me the stone.”

“What stone?” the Countess yelled back, “please Father, what is it you need?”

“Don’t waste your time. The Count is not the man you used to know.” Donitelo spots the door into the adjacent room, “follow me.” the group crawled through the kitchen. Pots, pans, food, and cutlery all flew above their heads.

Once they reached the room, they ran to and down the hallway. As they ran, a hand stuck out from the wall and grabbed the Countess, who let out a shriek from the cold icy touch. With her free arm, the Countess clawed at it, but that only seemed to tighten its icy grip on her.

Matilda, seeing her boss in trouble, raised her fist and slammed it down on the ghost's arm with enough force to bend its forearm in half. Before the Countess could say a word of thanks, the orc maid scooped up her and rushed with the group to the foyer.

At the entrance, Donitelo and Gonzolas grabbed the door handles and twisted them. Both refused to budge. “we’re trapped,” Gonzolas said.

Matilda puts down the Countess and grabbed the door handles from the thaumaturges and pulled. Even the mighty orc with all her strength could not get the handles to move an inch.

“SHit,” the ratfolk looked around in a panic. Think. Think. Don’t have time to wait around for an idea to pop up. wait? WAITING ROOM. “to the waiting room now!”

None of the people argued as they ran to the waiting room. When they entered, DOnitelo said, “Gon, help me smash the windows.”

Gonzolas was shocked, “but Master, you told me not to des-”

“I KNOW WHAT I TAUGHT YOU BUT THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!”

Before the elf could pull out his mace, Matilda went to one of the couches and chucked it through one of the large windows. The entire window collapsed as shards of glass rained down.

The group ran through the open window into the dying garden and ran to the gate. A glance to the front door showed a catfolk and gnoll holding the handles, both of their cold eyes locked on the group. They both were mouthing something.

The Countess tried to stop, but Matildia had her grip on the Countess and urged her to the gate.

Donitelo and Gonzolas pulled the gate open with as much might as they could muster. The gate creaked as it opened enough to let MAtilda and the Countess pass through. Gonzoloas and DOnitelo swung themselves around the gate, which immediately slammed on them the second they let go.

The group looked back at the manor. More ghosts had appeared beside the two that were holding the front door.

On the other side of the gate, a red carriage waited, its driver, a halfling, unaware of what has happened in the manor, set aside his newspaper, “Evening madame, I was thinking-”

“Drive,” the Countess yelled, “get us out of here.” She threw herself into the carriage, with matilda and Gonzolas following suit.

Donitelo turned to the driver, “take us to whatever the largest church or holy site in the city is. I do not care what you have to do, but get us there fast.”

The driver nodded and had the horses pull the cart away. Leaving behind the ghosts and the manor they haunt.