Chapter 1:
Chapter 11:
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Hauntings of Claverton Castle, Chapter 12
The figure simulated an individual facing the looking-glass. Samantha, trembling, saw the faintest outline of a face and shoulders. She sat still and stared. She feared that if she moved, the phantom would register the motion and attack her somehow.
With a quickened heartbeat, Samantha pondered over the ghost’s identity. It must be the spirit of someone who formerly lived in this house, or a houseguest. It resembled nothing as sinister as a demon or a dark Shadow, one of the menacing entities that in some cases had never been living, breathing people in this reality.
She took stock of how she felt in reaction to the shadowy figure: nervous, jittery, and somewhat indignant that its presence had stayed whilst she undressed. It emanated no hostile energy. She slowed her breathing.
Previously no ghosts had agitated her, certainly not so intensely as the phantoms of Claverton Castle. Could it be the influence of this extremely haunted place? Was she more anguished than she realized, between bereavement, grief over her parents that this recent bereavement evoked, and her uncle’s violence? Perhaps all that combined made her more vulnerable to spirit energy.
With the candle perched on the dressing table, Samantha decided to wait and observe. She sat still and quietly gazed at the image. Breathing deeply and slowly, she wondered what it would do. The figure remained standing or hovering, immobile.
Most ghosts disappeared if Samantha looked at them directly, rather than out of her peripheral vision, but this was an exception. This ghost waited, as Samantha lingered at the dressing table; she wondered if it was testing her. Perhaps it perceived her as an intruder and was attempting to distress her. It was failing to do so, however, for Samantha had calmed down, and her heart rate felt normal.
The specter might wish to become acquainted with her. Samantha shivered. It might be curious about her. Maybe it wished to see if she was trustworthy enough to be its confidant. Samantha relaxed her shoulders.
The gray ghost wore a dark veil. The figure reminded Samantha of Macha, Celtic goddess of death. She recalled seeing a black statue of Macha at Goblin Hall when she was a child: a beckoning, veiled figure on a pedestal. What an irrelevant comparison, as if the ghost of a dead person could manifest as a goddess. She inhaled and wondered if it was possible for this apparition to manifest as Macha.
As she kept watching, the ghost remained in place. Samantha did not see so much as a blink under the veil. She now felt only slightly nervous. This was the most eerie specter she had ever encountered, but the veiled figure felt harmless. Samantha had felt far more hostility from Uncle Bradford.