The Haunting of BlackRock Hill

BlackRock Hill mansion had been the source of ghost stories for years. Lady Vanhorn decided to take her Halloween party up a notch this year.

Her excessive self-obsession had no limits, causing even the Broadway crew to grow weary of her constant craving for praise. It seemed the locals were becoming bored and not offering her the praise she thought she deserved.

This party must make the tabloids, but how, she wondered.

It took several weeks of dedicated production work to create the flawless stunt. A staged death, a potential homicide with the culprit disguised among the onlookers, followed by the miraculous return of the presumed-dead individual in a chilling narrative that would fuel gossip for decades.

The stage was set with the guest's arrival, and the moment for Act 1 had arrived.

One of the partygoers was not surprised by the act. He had followed Lady Vanhorn after his father, an ex-priest from a small church in the backwoods of Alabama, raised him as a single dad.

She ruined his life and left her son to pick up the pieces. Every day of his life was a constant reminder of how his vapid mother was only interested in that person in the mirror.

Struggling for years, Bernie devised a plan for revenge.

Diapers and becoming a de-frocked preacher's wife were not what Eve had in mind. Her mother, Madalyn Vanhorn, who left her father for the bright lights of Hollywood, was more her style.

The mansion on Blackrock Hill was the scene of many parties where the elites danced the night away until the unfortunate accident. A loose banister and her mother giving a performance of Juliet on the Balcony scene ended Madlyn's career in a spectacular performance as she fell to her death.

Eve was in attendance as her mother's only heir. Ruled an accident, Eve became Lady Vanhorn, left the preacher, and married her agent, bringing him into the picture as Sir Reginald.

The only person who acted as her devoted follower was Reggie, and he faced the consequences of constantly showering her with compliments, emphasizing her uniqueness, beauty, and charm multiple times daily. Several people who were acquainted with him believed that he should have been the winner of an Academy Award.

Eager to gain devoted fans and boost her ego, the pair prepared for a performance that would make headlines in the local tabloid the next day. The simulated fall from the balcony established a chilling atmosphere.

The scream, hauntingly similar to the piercing cry of a banshee, echoed through the air, leaving everyone wondering if it was just part of the Halloween party or a sign of something much more threatening.

The guests recoiled in horror, releasing a collective gasp that rippled through the gathering like a wave. Did Sir Reginald orchestrate this in a twisted attempt to create the perfect atmosphere for his eerie Halloween get-together?

The incident where Madalyn Vanhorn died happened in that very spot.

Sir Reginald addressed the eager crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen," he started, his voice filled with emotion, "I'm sorry to tell you that the scream you heard wasn't part of the event but rather the agonizing cry of a life cruelly stolen by a malevolent and deceitful presence. The truth behind the rumors of the haunted mansion seems to be confirmed, as it's the only explanation we can attribute to the accident."

The body, whisked away by police, who were already in the area, left the partygoers terrified. At the same time, they all speculated on how this happened.

Act 1 was complete, and now the stage was set for Act 2

Three individuals were gathered around a circular table in a small room resembling a psychic's parlor. An illuminated crystal ball sat at the center of the table, casting a soft, enchanting glow. In their peculiar trio was a witch, a paranormal investigator, and a detective.

Reggie recruited two individuals to join the second act. The librarian, who played the witch role, introduced the third individual to the group. Additionally, she worked as a part-time realtor and dreamed of becoming a prosperous real estate agent. Stella became aware of Bernie's identity through his investigation into his mother via a genealogy group. She had no use for Evelyn but wanted the commission from the mansion's sale. Learning of Bernie's grievance, she hatched a plan.

The paranormal expert, with a weathered leather satchel by his side, had a steely glint in his eye that hinted at the countless times he had stared into the abyss.

With his furrowed brow and hunched shoulders, the detective appeared to carry the weight of a thousand unsolved mysteries in his mind.

Only two of the three were hired; the third appeared with the rest, and everyone assumed he was part of the trio.

One guest knew all. Playing the role of a detective allowed him to change the play's ending and get revenge for how she treated his father.

***

The Witch was an impressive figure, exuding authority with her piercing eyes and a simmering concoction in her possession. Smoke wafted out of the brew, giving the illusion of containing mythical ingredients like a newt's eye or a frog's hair, but it was simply dry ice.

In the shadows, unseen robotic creatures await their chance to pounce, filling the air with a sense of impending danger. They were there to witness the blood-curdling scream, and now the chase had begun. Who was responsible for the death, and what motivated them?

Was it the ghost that haunted the place, or perhaps was it one of the guests?

With the storm raging outside, the dancing candle flames seemed to mimic the chaos.

The Witch showed no fear in the face of terrifying stories, her determination reflected in her unwavering, piercing stare. She had read the best of the best horror stories. Compared to what she had read, this party was simply a 'meh' moment.

As the hours passed, the storm outside the mansion intensified, the howling wind echoing through the corridors like a phantom in the darkness. The guests were trapped inside due to the unyielding storm and many unanswered questions.

The thunderstorm reached its climax, with bolts of lightning illuminating the night sky. The windows rattled loudly in their frames while the flickering candle flames created unsettling shadows. Stella discreetly monitored the radar on her smartphone, confident that it would soon move away. With her enchanting abilities, the Witch effortlessly quieted the storm using a mystical incantation.

The paranormal expert collapsed back into his chair, his chest heaving with each gasp of air as if he had just sprinted in a marathon. The Witch was so convincing that she even fooled him.

The air in the room seemed to grow colder as if a malevolent force was drawing near. The paranormal expert's voice grew ragged and hoarse again as he described the unseen presence in the room with them. His gadgets came to life to indicate the presence of ghouls, goblins, and other unsavory characters. Many partygoers watched the three as if waiting for some magical ending to the nightmare.

Robotic creatures behind the veiled curtains added to the immersive nature of the party, causing Evelyn to laugh and her guests to scream in horror.

Reggie did his best to scare the stuffing out of their guest as she prepared for Act 3.

The room's air became even colder, giving the impression that the evil presence had materialized. Out of nowhere, the Witch's chant reached its climax, causing the air in the room to crackle with a charged atmosphere.

Sir Reginald stood behind the dark velvet curtain, observing the goings on. He pushed buttons on a remote and chuckled as the full force of the air conditioners made the mansion much colder than an icebox.

The night was perfect. The Halloween party was the best house of horrors yet.

The three experts were putting on the show of the century.

"Reggie, did you order the storm?" she asked, laughing.

He glanced at her and grinned. "You said put on the show of a century. I might have scheduled the date around the long-term forecast of the weather gurus.

She smiled while tugging at the tight-fitting costume. The uncomfortable hooks for wires didn't deter Eve from making the sacrifice. She wanted to scare her guests and once again prove that she and Reggie were the best at throwing parties.

"Where did you find the Witch? She looks real?"

Reggie chuckled. "That's Stella, the librarian. You would have known her if you ever got out of the house."

"Stella, we graduated together, of course. And the guy with the equipment?"

"Hal, from the hardware store. He even made those crazy-looking contraptions with crap from China."

"Nice, who is that other guy?"

Reggie shook his head. "I think it's one of Hal's buddies. He's asking questions like a detective, so you must stay hidden. You're supposed to be murdered."

Reggie pushed a few more buttons, causing fog machines to fill the room.

Evelyn should have no problem gliding across the grand ballroom from one side of the upper balcony to the other, effectively disappearing into the attic. It would be incredibly awe-inspiring.

She had practiced her scream for days before the party. Reggie was confident some might soil themselves and thought Eve would love it.

The detective slipped away, entering the scene through the velvet curtains. Wire cutters in hand, it was time for revenge. This place should sell for millions, he thought.

Act 3

Dim lights from above and flashing lights below, it was time to call on Lady Vanhorn to tell the truth about who killed her.

Having been made privy to the plan, Bernie chuckled as he waited for Evelyn to finally meet the destiny she so richly deserved.

Hidden speakers blended into the crowd, creating an eerie atmosphere with chains rattling and ghostly cackles. The crowd felt like they were part of a Broadway show, convinced that they had just witnessed a murder and anticipating the appearance of a ghostly apparition, just like in Beetlejuice.

Nobody expected what happened next - it took everyone by surprise. Everyone, of course, except Bernie, the faux detective.

Draped in a flowing crimson gown, Lady Vanhorn stood on the balcony, her piercing green eyes scanning the crowd below. It was as if her presence were a harbinger of doom, a chilling reminder of the tragedies that had befallen the once prodigious family.

Evelyne was playing the part of her mother, Lady Madalyne Vanhorn, who fell to her death on that very spot years before.

Loose nails in the banister above the ballroom were blamed for her death. Only Eve knew how those nails became loose. Much like Lizzy Bordon, Eve had never once felt remorse for the death of her mother. Mocking her in this way was just another middle finger to her memory.

The climax would be short-lived as the detective smiled a sinister grin. The once-party atmosphere would soon transform into an actual murder scene filled with chaos as a blood-curdling scream pierced the air.

The wind whispered through her raven locks, a haunting melody that could only be described as a prelude to the impending madness.

Reggie stood behind the faux ghost. The wire from the stunt wrapped around his ankle grew tighter, catching his attention too late for him to respond.

As the scene unfolded, Eve stood upon the grand balcony of a centuries-old mansion where her mother had stood years before.

The opulent architecture of the mansion, illuminated by flickering lamps, offered a stark contrast to the lavish party within its historic walls.

Mesmerized by the lively atmosphere, Eve rests against the elaborate iron railing of the balcony, her gaze drifting across the crowd of people beneath her. Taking a moment, she admired the beautiful gowns worn by the women and the elegant attire of the men. At the same time, the lanterns cast a warm and inviting light on the surroundings.

"I'm not going anywhere that easily." She crows.

The crowd gazes upward as they spot Lady Vanhorn's ghost. The protagonist in her self-directed play hears a gasp from the audience, traveling up to her ears.

As her attention returns to the bustling party, she feels a sudden, sharp tug on her crimson gown. Her heart races as she realizes something isn't right and sees Reggie trying to free himself from the cable.

Struggling, she holds onto the railing configured to break as part of Act 3.

Nonetheless, her struggle only manages to weaken the ancient iron, leading to the railing groaning and creaking as she exerts more pressure on it. The railing finally collapses with a deafening crack, causing the main character to fall over 100 feet to the ground below. Along with Eve, poor Reggie is pulled over the edge by the cable still tangled around his leg.

The crimson fabric of her gown billows around her as if trying to soften her fall.

A hushed gasp echoes through the mansion as she strikes the ground with a sickening thud.

The second thud, Reggie lands on his head inches away from the body of his wife.

The absence of music creates a void that echoes the unspoken question of how such a tragic accident happened.

Lady Vanhorn's once-regal visage was now twisted in a mask of terror. Act 3 ends, leaving no room for an epilogue, or does it?

Bernie, her son, finally inherits the mansion, fulfilling his desire for revenge for what she did to him and his poor father.

Epilogue:

Months after the dust settled, the doorbell rang. Bernie found Stella at the door.

"Bernie, I was surprised I hadn't heard from you yet? I am ready to list the place."

He scratched his head and motioned for Stella to enter. With a fleeting look at Stella, he gestures towards the balcony. "Well, it's not exactly a selling point to have your mother, grandmother, and stepfather haunting the place, is it?"

Stella's gaze momentarily connected with Bernie's before quickly averting her eyes to take in the captivating view of the broken banister, its jagged edges telling a story of past accidents.

"Haunting?"

There was an unsettling sound of a raucous cackle echoing from the rafters. Bernie was becoming accustomed to it.

Above them, the figure of Lady Vanhorn materialized, her ghostly presence sending chills down Stella's spine. Lady Vanhorn hovered around, her ethereal figure blending with the mist, while her mother stood beside her. “Well, being a ghost isn't all bad. I've never looked thinner!" Eve said.

Stella glanced once again at the ghosts before shrieking.

"Nobody is making money from this place, sweetie; you and your husband will be next on our list of homes to visit. Just try to sleep at night."

Stella screamed as she left, exiting the door while amusing the ghosts. "For a witch, you would think she might have expected that." Eve cackled.

Her mother chuckled. "Well, that went well. I think she really likes us!"

They watched as Stella tripped over the loose rug on the porch, catching her high heels in the mud.

"We need to work on your evil laugh, dear. A little more zing in your voice, she might have had a heart attack."

Eve glanced at her mother while Bernie listened to the echoes of their voices from below.

"Mom, you wouldn't let me be me in life, and now you're telling me how to laugh as a ghost."

"Is that why you took the nails loose from the rail?"

She grinned and nodded. "And here we are again. Nothing seems to change, even in death."

Madalyn smiled. "You get used to it after a few years. Why didn't you tell me about him?" she said, pointing at Bernie.

Eve looked at the chubby man below and then at Reggie, who was still trying to get used to being a ghost.

"Reggie, I might have had a child before we met."

He shot a glance at her, "might?" He asked.

She nodded. "You would be his stepfather; congratulations."

Clearly not amused, he grunted, "Who is his real daddy?"

"Yeah, Umm, Reverend Smith."

He shook his head. "Eve, that man isn't supposed to have sex. He was celibate."

Tugging at the harness as if to remove it, she peered at him. "Nobody's perfect, Reggie."

Madalyn Vanhorn glanced at her daughter Eve and touched the frayed wires still attached to her harness before commenting. "It appears that he takes after you more than his father."

Bernie shook his head, wondering where his dear old dad was.

Before walking out of the house, he quickly glanced at the ghosts. "I guess there really is no way to return to where I once called home."

He heard his mother's voice as he walked into the garden. "Sure, you can…but I guess family reunions will be a bit more complicated from now on."

Sitting on the porch by the rug that almost tripped Stella, he hears the voice of his ghostly grandmother. "Bernie darling, sit up straight; you don't want to become the hunchback of BlackRock Mansion, do you?"

Finally, he understood why his mother killed her mother.