❝To nice, to pass you by,
I can't believe you been here the whole time.❞

───────

SEVEN | BLUE BLOOD

The fire in the fireplace rose wildly as the house groaned and the floor boards trembled underneath my feet. The piano played beautifully and every note filled the cold air. I didn't dare to go to the back and find out who was at the piano stool, playing the melody, so I began to climb up the stairs to the bedroom and get my stuff out of there, trying not to be noticed.

I had carried my suitcase and the bag downstairs and had returned to the bedroom to double check I wasn't forgetting anything, I stopped at the door, only contemplating my surroundings -especially the hole in the ceiling- when something brushed my leg, making me choke a scream.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, relieved to find out it was only the cat, "Look at you, all covered in coal dust again," I said to the cat and picked him up. He couldn't stay there, "you're coming with me," I said softly as stroked his back and smiled as he purred.

Before walking into the bedroom again, I watched how the snow fell and landed in the foyer. The feeling of being in that house was strange, I liked to be there, it was odd considering the circumstances, but there was something about that house that made me want to stay a little longer. Maybe it was its beauty, maybe it reminded me of all my father wanted to do with it, maybe it reminded me of my mother, maybe it reminded me of the family I had once, or maybe I was just a hopeless sentimental. I sighed and turned around and walked into the bedroom.

"Lucky you," I continued, "your new flatmate Josh loves cats, this won't be a problem at all-" I stopped dead in my tracks when heard the noise coming from the bathroom. Tell me it's another cat, I thought. I put Coal on the bed, he ran away. I hurried to grab the poker by the fireplace and thought of using it as a weapon.

"Who's there?" My voice came out as a whisper, so soft that I had to say it again, louder, but no one answered. I was about to take a step forward when the sound of splashing water was followed by the sound of a knife and my eyes widened. I startled and felt the shivers running up and down my body when the horrid scream travelled through the room. Nothing more was heard by then, I stayed there for a few seconds, panting, shaking and gripping the poker with both hands not knowing what to think except how to hit whoever walked through that door.

When I finally took control of my body, or at least enough control to move my feet one in front of the other, I began to walk towards the bathroom. Slowly, I pushed the ajar door and as soon my eyes met the figure in the bath, I could only stare in horror at the scene before me, stare at the woman with the cleaver sticking out of her head.

She remained still, with her hands placed on both sides of the bath. Her entire body was red and she was bleeding from her wound, the blood came out of it as if it were smoke, red smoke and it floated in the air just like the other ghost.

When I realised, I was standing a few steps from the bath and out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something moving next to me. The little relief I felt when learned that it was only my reflection in the mirror vanished when the woman in the bath jerked and began to moan as she got on her feet and with clumsy movements she stepped out of the bath.

I took several steps back as I watched how the creature moved and reached out in my direction and a guttural sound emerged from her throat, "Adeline . . ." she said.

"How do you know my name?" I muttered to myself.

". . . leave! You must leave, Adeline!" My back hit the door frame and it made me react. I turned around and got out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me and quickly running out the bedroom. She didn't seem to be after me so I tried to calm down a bit once I stepped out of the room. There, I met the ghost from outside, but this time he was different.

I stopped bluntly when I saw him, standing in the landing. Black waistcoat and trousers, staring at me with those dreamy blue eyes -the eyes that had been stuck in my head since I was six and every time I wondered if he was real or not. Black and curly hair, a complete treat for the eyes, I must add. He looked human, he didn't look like something my hand could go through if I touched him.

He was looking at me with an astounded expression on his face, his pale pink lips were slightly parted. My first reaction was to turn around and get away from him to, ironically, return to the bedroom. When I did I he was already standing at the door to the bedroom.

"Edith . . ." he said under his breath, yet again, ". . . you came back."

"My name is not Edith." I said in a flat voice. He looked down at his shoes as he fidgeted with the ring on his finger.

"I know," he said.

"Are you Sir Thomas Sharpe?" He nodded, "Why you keep calling me that, Thomas?" I asked, then thinking of how I was going insane or how I was actually talking to the dead. He didn't say a word, "Why?" I inquired.

"Because you are the image of the woman I once loved . . . and I hurt her," I had to stop myself from scoffing. Hurt her? He almost killed her. I felt myself getting angry.

"I know what you did here," I said and he looked up at me, not saying a word so I continued, "you made them all fall in love with you," my chest ached only to think of what those women went through, he stared at the window as I scolded him with tears in my eyes, "they trusted you, they loved you and you didn't return that love, you poisoned them! You don't deserve any kind of help!" I spat, "You're nothing but a murderer!"

"I didn't want to do it!" He shouted, his voice joining to the moans, groans and other frightening sounds produced by the house. He was trying to get closer to me, he kept walking, following each step I took into the room as I tried to stay away, finally, he cornered me by the fireplace, I jolted when I felt his grip on my arms as he looked into my eyes, I only stared at the anger plastered on his face which turned into sadness by the second, "I didn't," he said, "I loved her."

"That doesn't make a lot of difference, you killed people," I dared to say yet I regretted when I saw him so doleful. Taking a step back, he let go.

"I still love her . . ." his eyes filled with tears and his words were almost inaudible, like he was talking to himself, the temperature in the bedroom dropping unexpectedly, it was him, "It was all part of a plan," he said, "a psychotic plan me and my sister thought about to keep the mines and the Sharpe name," he stared blankly ahead as the memories came to his head again, his brow furrowed and kept the same voice tone as he continued, I listened carefully to what he was telling me, "Please, help me!" He begged softly, "Adeline, I really need your help!"

"I never told you what my name was, how do you know that?" I saw my own breath condensing in the air.

"Your parents called you that the first time you were here," I got frozen, he knew it was me, "I have been waiting patiently for you, I knew you would come back . . . please, I need your help!" That look in his eyes. I couldn't say no.

"How?" I asked. Sir Thomas' eyes flared with hope and the tiniest yet noticeable smile crept on his lips which was soon gone and the pained expression appeared on his face again.

"I don't want to be here anymore . . ." he shook his head, "I want to leave, I am tired of being locked, of being prisoner in this cage I cannot escape from. I have died every day, remembering all the atrocities I have committed and I cannot cope with it anymore . . ." I still had no clue of what he actually wanted. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't the right person to help, I wasn't the kind of person who saw ghosts all the time -actually, I had never seen one before going into that house- let alone help them to see or find the light or whatever they saw, "I feel . . . I feel as if saw my wife one last time, I would finally be at peace and, perhaps I could leave." I took a moment to come with what I wanted to say without sounding rude.

"It happened a long time ago, she isn't here anymore . . ." I said softly and he let out a sad chuckle.

"Sometimes I forget about how many years have gone by," I glanced at him and when I felt his eyes on me I looked down at the carpet, "you are the perfect image of her . . ." he reached out to touch me, "May I?" With a brief nod of my head, I said yes and he placed his cold hand cupping my cheek and his thumb caressed it in small circles, "You are so much alike my Edith . . ." I could see in his face that it made him sadder and the sadder he was, the colder the room turned. I knew my roots and I was sure I just happened to be someone else's doppelgänger. He touched my hair, slowly running his slender fingers through it, he closed his eyes and I saw a wound appearing on his face and how blood trickled down, the white shirt underneath the waistcoat began to stain with blood as well, when he opened his eyes, a red tear rolled down his face, I saw the sorrow and regret in them and I couldn't resist to see that look in his eyes again, he was so consumed by sadness.

"I could try to find something about her, at least in that I can help," I said. I also wanted to find from whom my father had purchased the property, with the hope to ask more questions about it but mainly to return the property or at least cut all treat with the haunted place that way Sir Thomas and I would have what we wanted.

"Would you do that?" He asked.

"Yes."

[ thanks for reading, voting and commenting! ]