Page 4 of Monster Mansion

She flopped down on her bed after setting her drink on the desk that doubled as her side table. “That was just the one time, and you know it.”

Knowing I had to get on the road if I wanted to make it to the mansion early enough to meet the groundskeeper and get my key, I didn’t waste any time. I’d spent so much time here already that my things were strewn about with little rhyme or reason. My makeup bag was half-empty on Blair’s desk, so I scanned the surrounding area for the stuff of mine I could find, then unplugged my curling iron and blow-dryer from next to the sink in her bathroom and wound up the cords. If I was leaving anything of mine behind, it was doomed to be lost until the two of us packed our things back up for school.

“Are you planning on saying bye, or are you just going to lie there like a corpse?” I asked my friend before playfully launching a throw pillow at her tired body.

She groaned in response and rolled over to face me with a pouty expression. “If I don’t acknowledge you’re leaving, then you’re not actually leaving.”

“It’s just a month, no big deal,” I said as I sat down next to her on the bed. “We can video chat every day if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It doesn’t have to beeveryday,” Blair said as she rolled her eyes. “But it does have to be fairly regular. What can I say? I’m codependent.” She laughed as she willed herself to sit up to give me a real goodbye. “Besides, you’re the only person I trust to be honest when I ask you if an outfit makes me look stupid.”

I shot her a lopsided smile. “You know I’m always down to make fun of your fashion choices if I need to.”

“Oh, shut up, asshole,” Blair said sarcastically as she willed herself into an upright position. “I’m going to miss you.”

I leaned in and gave her a hug. “I’ll miss you too, but I’ll be back in a month for a two-week ‘hurrah’ before we head back to UPenn.”

“Can’t believe you’re leaving me for a creepy old mansion in the woods,” she huffed into my ear as we hugged.

“I’m leaving you for what is hopefully going to be a very cool project and a couple grand to put in the bank,” I said as I pulled back, stood up, and gathered all the things I’d collected. “You know how important it is for me to get my foot intoanydoor leading to a paranormal research job. If I make an interesting enough piece, maybe the right people will notice.”

“Oh, by ‘the right people’ you mean Ben Kissel or Marcus Parks?” Blair replied with a snarky wink. “You’ll seriously try anything to get onLast Podcast on the Left.”

“I meanmaybe!” I said as I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. “I can dream!”

Changing the subject, Blair raised her arms to her chest like claws and waggled her fingers like she was an extra in a small town haunted house.

“You planning on bringing any of your grandma’s weird little protection doo-dads to keep you safe from ghouls and goblins?” she asked in her best-worst Transylvanian accent.

I looked back at her horrible impression with a straight face. “If I say ‘yes,’ are you going to laugh at me?”

“Maybe,” she sang, still pantomiming as a cartoon monster, hiding behind her forearm like an invisible vampire cape.

“Then I’m not telling you!” I exclaimed with a smile.

“That means yes! Bye, dummy,” she said as I turned to leave. “Hope the monsters don’t get ya!”

“Bye, bitch,” I snapped back before exiting her apartment. “And if they do get me, don’t embarrass me at my funeral.”

“Oh, you know I’m gonna,” she cackled before I could shut her door behind me, and the sound of her laughing followed me down the stairs.

I took the steps two at a time, eager to get on the road. It was about a five-hour drive, so I wanted to ensure I was making progress before the double-shot of espresso I’d requested in my coffee kicked in.

After my second and final goodbye of the day, I sat in my car and typed in the address of the mansion that would be my home for the next month into my phone’s GPS, oblivious to what waited for me behind the doors of the gorgeous home I’d only seen in pictures.

Chapter2

Logan

After I turned what should have been a five-hour drive into a four-and-a-half hour drive, thanks to good music and a lack of state troopers on the Appalachian Highway, I had to turn down the radio to focus on finding the turn for the mansion. The woods were gorgeous, everything a stunning green, and the sound of my car crunching over the beaten road only gave me a hint of anxiety for the little Volkswagen’s suspension. I thought it might be harder to find—most of the properties this far into the woods were set really far back with only a dirt road and a dilapidated mailbox to mark the address—but the mansion’s property announced itself quite obviously.

A massive wrought-iron gate sat on both sides of the entrance, and the paved driveway looked like it was copy-pasted from the pages of aBetter Homes and Gardensmagazine spread. The gate had already been propped open for my arrival, and I was greeted by two gnarly copper gargoyles that had turned green with age leaning over either side of the road with their claws and teeth exposed menacingly. I had to give the gas a little extra push to make it up the steep entrance, but as soon as I cleared the top, the vision of the mansion itself made me audibly gasp.

The pictures made it look nice, but I could tell then that they must have been taken a while ago. Ivy and moss climbed up the front of the white brick walls, and much of the flowers from the images had been removed. Windows that were as tall as the entire first floor flanked the dark red double front doors, and a huge circular spire reached toward the sky to the left, while a second-floor balcony hung over the right side. I could see why my employer wanted to purchase such a place. The potential was astounding.

I pulled my car around the circular driveway that framed an out-of-commission fountain and saw the groundskeeper I was supposed to meet cleaning something off the front of the house where the vegetation had been pulled away.

“Hey, there!” he shouted as he heard me open my car door. He dropped his bucket and cleaning supplies on the ground next to him and waddled over to my car, wiping his soapy hands down the front of his dark-blue coveralls. “You must be Logan. Mr. Silver said I should expect you this afternoon. How’d you like the drive?”