The Haunted Mansion
By: MadameGracey


Chapter 1

Introduction:

I guess I should start with myself. My name is Rosalie; I was born in New Orleans, Louisiana in 1988. I am twenty-one years old. My parents are divorced, separating when I was only twelve.

I have long dark hair and green eyes. I suppose my life is relatively pleasant. Every summer I go to my grandmother’s house in New Orleans. She lives out in the country, but I always liked to call it the “Marsh Lands” when I was younger. I always considered it a magical place because of the many ponds and huge willow trees. It’s beautiful there, but now that I'm older it gets gloomy.

Now my grandmother has very interesting friends with a very unusual house. A cemetery sits in their backyard. This house is Called Gracey manor, or as many call, it the haunted mansion. My experience there is what I'm about to share with you. You dear readers are the first to brave my story.

There’s no turning back now.

CHAPTER 1

The Meeting

“Grandma, you don't have to take me to New Orleans. I'm twenty-one years old. I am perfectly capable of driving there myself!” I looked at my grandmother. Wrinkles outlined her face, giving her a warm and aged look. Every summer she took me to her house in New Orleans. When I was little, I saw the bayou as magical. Now I thought it was creepy and dark.

“My dear, I thought I would save you some money. After all, gas is very expensive and you lost your job,” my grandma said sweetly. I used to work at a local theater as a chorus girl but was fired. I guess I wasn’t good enough.

“Besides,” my grandmother continued, walking toward me and smiling warmly. “This year we are going to stay at my old family friend’s home,” she chuckled.

I couldn’t help being curious. “Who? What family friend?”

“The Graceys.” She paused studied my reaction.

I shrugged. “Never heard of them. Are they celebrities or something?” I laughed at my grandmother’s seriousness.

“No,” she said coldly. “The Graceys, or should I say Mr. George Gracey, has invited us to stay as long as desired at their estate. I agreed, thinking it would be a fun change. It’s only a few hours away.”

I grabbed the car keys. “Okay, then we’ll go to the Graceys’. Let’s go.” I walked out the door with my grandmother following, her stubby feet shuffling on the driveway pavement.

“The Graceys own a beautiful, old southern mansion close to my home. I know you'll love it dear,” my grandmother said, getting in her red Volkswagen. "Dear, would you please give me my car keys?” She grinned as I handed them over. “Everything packed?” She started the car’s engine.

“Yes,” I replied, buckling in.

“Wonderful! We’re off,” she cheered like she was going to Disneyland.

I turned and looked out my window. I watched my apartment complex fade into nothing. This past year I have felt like something in my life was missing. Maybe now I would find it.

The drive to New Orleans was about three hours. I slept through the whole trip, only waking up when my grandmother started shaking me violently.

“Rosalie, wake up hun’. We’re here!”

Slowly, I opened my eyes. I lost my breath as I looked out the window.

There stood an old white mansion, with four large pillars at the front. All around the exterior were red rose bushes. A connected green house sat at the right side. I fell in love with the manor immediately.

“It’s beautiful,” I exhaled.

My grandmother chuckled. “I told you so.”

A man emerged from the mansion. He was tall, skinny, and wore a very wide eerie grin on his face. A lavender tie was tucked under his purple vest. As he approached me he looked me top to bottom.

“Miss Rosalie, I presume?” he asked elegantly.

“Yes, I am she,” I responded, a bit frightened by the skeleton-like man.

“My name is Maynard,” he continued with a bow. “I am ever so delighted you made it here safely. My master will be thrilled,” he laughed. It sent chills racing up and down my spine.

Maynard turned to my grandmother. “Madame your granddaughter is even more beautiful than you told me. My master will be absolutely smitten when he sees her.” He looked at me and laughed again. His cackle was just plain scary.

Maynard pointed one of his bony fingers to the mansion. “Shall we?” He motioned for me to follow him.

As we walked up the steps Maynard chatted away. Trying to stay polite, I nodded and smiled about every thirty seconds.

“I am the caretaker of this estate, and have worked here since I was nineteen. That shows how old I am,” he giggled again and I felt the urge to cover my ears. Thankfully, I resisted. I wished he would stop laughing. It scared me.

When we reached the door, Maynard opened it slowly. Cold air instantly struck me. But even that could not take away from the mansions’ beauty. A grand staircase stood in the center of the main entrance, cascading down like a marble waterfall. There were candelabras everywhere. The windows were covered with white lace curtains with red over layering. I found myself standing in the dead center of the room.

“Oh Rosalie child, I left my medication at my house. It’s only a few hours away and I must run to get it,” my grandmother said to me.

“Oh, okay, grandma. I’ll go with you--” I was suddenly cut off.

“That will not be necessary,” said a commanding voice. It sent chills through my body. “Maynard may go with your grandmother to get the medication.”

I slowly turned to face the voice. A man stood at the top of the staircase. He was dressed in almost the same attire as Maynard but had a red vest and tie instead. I stood there gaping at him. He had boyish good looks. Impeccably partly, his dark hair stood as stark contrast to his very alluring, piercing blue eyes.

I stood there just staring, absorbing him in, every detail of him. Maynard cleared his throat, breaking my trance.

“Madame, I present Master Gracey” he said. Gracey ascended down the stair case. I watched him as he walked, going right back into my trance. Gracey stopped in front of me, never breaking eye contact.

“Miss Rosalie, I presume?” he said. His voice had an angelic like quality but had such command and strength behind it.

“Yes,” I responded awestruck. He bowed again, smiling at me. I blushed and felt my face heating up.

“I am so glad you have decided to join me,” he said, his blue eyes burned into me.

He flashed a smile and I felt my legs grow weak. I must have lost balance because I felt myself slipping back. I stumbled, not so gracefully into Master Gracey.

“Are you all right?” he asked urgently. I struggled to find words,

“Yes, I'm fine,” I breathed. He helped me to my feet slowly.

“Oh, don't you two look wonderful together,” my grandmother gushed.

Once again my face burned.

“Come, Madame, I will escort you home,” Maynard said to my grandmother.

“All right. Be good Rosalie. I’ll be back very soon,” she waved. Then my grandmother and Maynard left, shutting the massive door behind them.

Gracey laughed and my heart started to pound.

“May I?” Gracey paused turning to me. “Escort you to dinner?” he finished.

“Yes!” I answered a little too excitedly. He chuckled and offered his arm. I slowly took it, and as soon as I touched him, I felt heat rushing through my entire body.

Yet something in the back of my mind sensed an ominous feeling of despair. There was a tragic history here. But all my thoughts disappeared when Gracey sat me at my table. All I could do was gaze at him. I was helpless.