#etgomastories

♫Agnes Obel - It's Happening Again♫

THROUGH THE MIST

CHAPTER 7 Fish and Chips

In vain, Sherlock searches for the traces of the night’s crime in Antigua, the old part of Terra Santa: the storm left neither clues nor witnesses. However, later, he finds his mother’s grave vandalised. Galahad insists that it was a magic ritual to keep her underground. Unwilling to believe in magic, Sherlock addresses Dr Armstrong with questions about his mother’s death and catches him in a lie…

Illustration by @wistfulpoltergeist

♫Ludovico Einaudi - Eros♫

Episode 7

“Sometimes superstitions can make people delusional, Dr Stonefall.” Amadeo clicked with his tongue and nodded at the entrance.

“Let's take a look at your field of research and have some refreshments. But first, gentlemen, will you help me with my luggage?”

He flashed a look at Jason’s shapely arms.

“No problem.” Jason turned and walked straight to his BMW.

Barely they entered the hall when Dr Stonefall's phone beeped.

He peeked at the screen, excused himself, and said he should drive to the train station since no taxi driver was giving Elliot a lift to Hill House.

“Not at this hour anyway,” he added before leaving.

Jason emerged in the doorway with all the suitcases in his hands, not even out of breath.

“Where to, chief?”

“Oh, um... to be honest, I don’t know. I haven't seen much of the house...”

“But the master bedroom shouldn't be hard to find.”

Jason put the luggage down on the floor.

“With all due respect, sir, the master bedroom is known to be the most haunted one.”

“Nonsense!” Amadeo waved away with his hand as if wading off a nosey fly and strutted to the main staircase.

“Let's find it, and you'll see there is nothing to be afraid of.”

Jason shook his head and followed him upstairs.

♫Bonnie Tyler - Holding Out for a Hero♫

Episode 3

Hill House was deserted. Nevertheless, Amadeo couldn't ease the feeling of being watched.

The manor, with its transfixing, cumbersome interior impending over him, seemed watchful under its disguise of silent sleeping.

Anxious to dispel the idea, Amadeo gave himself a quick tour.

He opened as many curtains as he found to let in some light.

Eventually, he lost his way in the labyrinth of rooms inside rooms and suddenly walked out to the entrance hall from where he started.

Strange... I could swear I was on the other side of the house. 

Cold sweat ran down Amadeo’s chest, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

Despite the golden rays of twilight seeping through the windows, the interior stood dim and dusky. Shadows crept into the corners and the hollow doorways gaped at him in suspense.

Amadeo turned his gaze upstairs, imagining he saw someone standing there with his hand resting on the balustrade.

That was just a picture on the wall.

♫The Cure - Lullaby♫

Episode 6

“I’m not sure I follow…” Amadeo blinked.

“We did our homework, and asked around in the village,” Dr Stonefall explained.

“Surely, you’ve heard about the ill fame of this place.”

“Nobody stays here overnight since the string of scary occurrences some sixty years ago...”

“...and the last owner left it on sale shortly after buying.”

“Yes, yes. Aren’t you here to make amends for that?”

“We’re here to investigate…” Mark fixed his glasses sliding down his nose.

“Well, charming! And I’ve invited you to investigate all these silly superstitions.” Amadeo turned and glanced over at the painfully beautiful building.

“I must admit, I’m more interested in the myth-busting of all that spooky nonsense.”

“It’s bad for business, you know?” He touched the lock of his golden hair. Involuntarily. But graciously.

Mark frowned. His glasses slid a bit down his nose.

“We wouldn’t agree to come if the spooky nonsense wasn’t this loud and persistent,” he said, and Amadeo noted with relief that he didn’t touch his glasses this time.

♫Dark Magic Music - Salem's Secret♫

Episode 8

They walked along the corridor, peeping behind every door. None of them was closed. Those were small rooms with canopy beds, musical instruments, oriels, a terrace under a glass dome, or—suddenly...

...a balcony over the first floor.

The little tour with Jason reminded Amadeo of the game he played as a child in his parent's house in Sundale. Like in a dream, the rooms appeared excitingly novel yet slightly familiar.

“Everything here is in excellent condition,” Amadeo noticed, thrilled.

“Don’t you find it amazing? Like in that fairytale about the Beaty and the Beast, when she got to the enchanted place, hidden from the world yet not neglected.”

He glanced at Jason, panting from dragging the heavy suitcases up here.

He barely saw anything but the stairs and carpets under his feet, and the only beast he could think of now was Louis Vuitton pulling at his arms.

Amadeo swung around on his heels. “Never mind. I must tell Rogers they did a good job...”

“Look at these vases. Drapes. And statuettes! They are priceless! Nobody dared to steal anything.”

“Nobody steals from the ghosts,” Jason grumbled, sweating.

“There're no ghosts. Aren't you here to prove it?”

Jason blew the forelock off his eyes. “The witnesses say otherwise. Starting with accidents and ending with owners abandoning this place for no apparent reason.”

“Why would anyone abandon this lovely place?”

Jason shrugged. “Dunno, maybe things moving, clothes missing, doors closing and strange noises coming from the basement didn’t seem so fun to them?”

“Are we done exploring, chief?”

“I'm sure there's a simple explanation for that.”

“And have patience, Mr Analu. This place is a piece of art to admire. True art takes time, don’t you know that?”

Jason rolled his eyes to admire the artful cruelty of his host.

♫Agnes Obel - Aventine♫

Episode 4

Silly country superstitions. They’re getting on my nerves. It's just a house, a grandiose old, creaky house. No more, no less.

Still, he jumped with his heart pounding in his ear when a car signalled outside. His first thought was, “Rogers! They must have remembered leaving the doors open and came to check on that.”

He rushed outside, surprisingly fast, as if running away. From what?

A 1983 ochre Ford truck parked beside Amadeo’s BMW Alpina, and a strong-built brunette in glasses stood out of the car, watching him with concern. He held a smartphone as if about to hang up on someone.

“Hi, glad you’re back. My guests are just about to arrive,” Amadeo greeted them, panting.

“Amadeo Goldfield?” the brunette inquired.

Another, taller man, came out of Ford and banged the door shut.

“We are your guests.” His voice came in a low bass.

The rock version of the one in glasses, he carried long, wavy, brown hair and a wild squint...

♫Ray Parker Jr. - Ghostbusters♫