Lupin Manor (f+/f+) (NEW *CARMEN* NEW 21/10)

[RopeBunny]

007.
Sammy.

I'm. "Morgan? Em?"

Alone?

Everything happened so fast: Lucille, floating through the door, passing close enough I could've reached out and touched her. Em, screaming, panicking, running away. And Lucille's ghost, that high pitched eerie giggle bouncing off the walls, following. Giving chase like a wolf scenting blood.

But where did Morgan go?

Standing, I find darkness all around, the dim moonlight filtering through tall windows- the wedged open door -barely enough. All I can see are shadows.

I turn a slow circle. Trying- I have NOT been abandoned -to keep my breathing -I am NOT ghost food -steady.

"Ohthankfuck."

Light. Beautiful, bouncing, torchlight.

Although.

"Why the fuck did you split up?"

One of the beams is high, upstairs, the other level with me. Both are far away, swinging and in motion, just white pillars in the dark. It has to be, logically it can't not be, my friends.

Which one to follow though?

Morgan. Or Em. No way of knowing which beam belongs to which friend. Em bolted first, and, I remember, Lucille at least appeared to be setting off after her.

Is that why Morgan went the other way?

"Eenie." Pointing up. "Meanie." Pointing down, because I have to do something, go somewhere, and I've no idea which way is best. "Um, miney."

"Mo."

I stop. Breathe in, huff it out.

What do I want?

Taking a moment. Thinking. Remembering what I'd felt when Lucille appeared: shock, yes, but. Not fear. I hadn't been, I'm not now, afraid. Actually, what I recall thinking now as Lucille's gaze skated over me was.

She looks kinda cute.

None of which is helping me decide on a direction. And. "Damn it." I tut, shaking my head. I've left it too late, the torchlight, both beams, have vanished around corners.

Or been turned off.

Could a ghost turn off a torch?

At least I've got the camera.

Heading upstairs, why not, I flick and scroll through menus until the flash is permanently on. It isn't much, not a directed, focused, beam, more like a really bright pinpoint, lighting up a small circle in front.

It'll have to do.

At the top a wide balcony stretches left and right, hanging out over the entrance hall I was standing in. There are doors, openings, on both sides.

But the torchlight had been from straight ahead.

So I go forwards, along a corridor.

Finding empty rooms, two on the left and one on the right. Finding a broken four poster bed lacking its mattress, large mould covered yet still very ornate wardrobe stood beside it. Finding more graffiti adorning the walls: 'Eternal Hamster' again, joined by 'All Seeing Eye' and '2Girlz'. Along one wall, between two rooms, I track a whole list of scribbled initials, most with four digit dates nearby, some with attached random comments about weed or sex.

And. Because I know you're all wondering. Yes. I did- breath held in preparation for the inevitable jump scare -open the wardrobe.

It was.

Empty.

I found a locked door too. Another one? And had I been paying more attention prehaps I'd do the missing friends versus locked doors tally.

But I don't.

And besides which it's three friends: Chelle, Em, Morgan. But only two locked doors.

So there.

At the end of the corridor narrow stairs curve downwards, a blind spiral into the gloomy unknown, which, I, don't really want to descend. Because it's dark. Really dark. And I've just about used up all of my spooky haunted house bravery by now.

However, turning around, shining my meger light back the way I've come, I find only an equal amount of darkness closing in from behind.

And, let's face it, anything could be there, silently prowling forwards, closing in.

"Fucks sake." I huff, but not loud lest the monster hears me. "Fine."

I go downstairs.

At the bottom I find a closed door, which opens away from me.

Because yes I open it, it's either that or go back upstairs to talk with the monster probably still waiting hopefully for me to return.

Darkness beyond, but not total, there's a faint light I've come to recognise as a sign there are windows, not always with glass still present, letting some of that pale moonlight in.

I step through, shining my camera light left and right. By now I've been trekking solo through Lupin Manor for so long I've become numb to the nerves and worry of 'maybe I'll see Lucille' who, besides, I don't actually remember as being so scary.

Except for- a brief shiver runs through me -that high pitched giggle.

I have, unfortunately prehaps, been daydreaming too as a form of distraction from my being all alone. Daydreaming about girls, about fun things to do with ropes, and girls.

At some stage I was even, don't laugh, or judge, idly wondering on how I might wind up being captured by Lucille.

Who.

Is it wrong. Bad. Silly. To start thinking of a ghost as.

Cute.

It's a library. The remains, the bones, of one anyway. There are shelves, on the walls, all empty. Plus one of those funny wheeled ladders attached to the shelves, the kind that runs a circuit of the room to access high up books. However the real surprise. "Chelle?" Is waiting for me in the middle of the room.

She's.

Wearing a bra.

Laying on a table, a large rectangular slab of wood roughly the size of a double bed. Chelle is.

Wearing a black bra. And a black thong.

She's been tied up, body.

There's lace on the bra cups, and even in this dim light I can see the shadowed buds of her.

Body stretched out along one side of the table, arms pulled taught over her head, legs together pointed the other way. Chelle's whole body is laid flat against the table, made tight by the ropes binding her at wrist and ankle.

So much. Too much. There's just skin and skin and pale skin and the perfect hump of her large chest and the flatness of her belly and.

So. Much. Skin.

And.

Is it hot in here?

She's. Smiling? Looking up at, no, I step forwards for a better look.

Um. I mean. Not at, you know, for a better look at.

Okay. Hold on.

Chelle's eyes are closed, something I see for certain as the flash from my phone, from the camera on my phone, lights up the room four times.

She doesn't open them.

Breathless, still feeling too hot, biting my lip as I move around the table for a better angle.

Don't judge me.

Still expecting Chelle's eyes to open at any moment. Catching me in the act.

And just how will I explain?

I'm on photo. I don't even know how many I've taken by this point? The whole thing, staring at Chelle's near naked body through the medium of my phone screen having become something like an obsession, moving my phone this way and that, trying out angles.

And all the while Chelle laying there. Still. Eyes closed and smiling as though she enjoys being stretched out on an old dirty table wearing almost no clothes.

Does she, do you think? I could ask. I could.

Offer.

Looking away, I lick my lips, needing a moment to calm down. I'm really going to have to stop in a moment. I ought to be trying to wake her up.

"Okay." Whispered, nodding. "Just." Letting out a breath. "A couple more photos first."

I turn back around. Jump. Almost, not quite but almost, scream.

Chelle's eyes are open, her head turned to regard me. She opens her mouth.

"Join us."

It isn't her voice.

[GreyLord]

You are doing this very well, [mention]RopeBunny[/mention]. The tension is being slowly extended and prolonged. You have built great anticipation. I'm looking forward to what may be next.

[BlissfulMisery]

Hey,

Well we are back to the ramping tension (until the inevitable conclusion of such).

She looks kinda cute.

Well, perhaps Sammy can flatter the ghost into leaving her alone...

Daydreaming about girls, about fun things to do with ropes, and girls.

At some stage I was even, don't laugh, or judge, idly wondering on how I might wind up being captured by Lucille.

Ahh yes, the old 'I actually like being tied up so what are you going to do now, ghost!' trick to play on the bondage ghost. Quite amusing.

Chelle's eyes are open, her head turned to regard me. She opens her mouth.

"Join us."

It isn't her voice.

And this is about the point where one screams and runs away and refuses to ever return.

Great chapter, curious what will become of Sammy now... Somehow I think she will not enjoy what comes as much as she expects to.

[RopeBunny]

You are doing this very well,

Thank you. I'm very much enjoying myself with this one.

Chelle's eyes are open, her head turned to regard me. She opens her mouth.

"Join us."

It isn't her voice.

And this is about the point where one screams and runs away and refuses to ever return.

Well. Yes. In the real world outside of TUGs story time anyway

[RopeBunny]

008.
Lucille.

"Join us."

My first words in so long too long I hadn't thought had forgotten I could.

I can make this girl with too many breasts and too few clothes say things, say my things she can she will speak.

This girl speaks the words I choose.

Because I am already inside of her. This girl pretty girl sandy haired girl. I have touched her already, made her see such things that are safe I have already bound this girl closer to me.

Bound. Ha.

This thing that I can do. This thing of touch and look, making people think or do or even. Say. Making her into me but not me but she speaks as I could once but never more.

This girl is my voice. Because she is.

Because her mind is one I can push.

You never know how far until you try.

This other girl with sandy hair two girls there were five now two left I have tied three now three girls will not leave but this other girl standing here she screams.

Doesn't scream but her mouth is wide for a moment like a gasp like almost but not a scream but she doesn't no sound only she jumps.

She's looking at her friend at her friend all tied up and I think she likes her likes me I think she likes girls like I liked I did.

I always even now think girls are can be she is.

This girl is.

Pretty.

"Join?" Puzzled, mouth a frown but stepping forwards coming closer. "Us?"
"Me." Not us silly Lucille only me only one.

"Chelle?"
"Yes." No. Because. No. Not this Shell who is Shell what name is that I know no girl ever called.

And still closer still another step this blonde girl frowning but closer and I will eat her you up if you get too close you will not step back again.

She looks tasty like a rabbit.

"No." I shake make this girl shake her head. "I am not a shell of the sea. I am." Fading in, stood but floating I do not touch so I float but I am. Stood beside her seashell friend one hand touching one pale arm I must touch in order to speak I fade in. Face the girl. Smile.

"I am." Through the fog I push, everything so fuddled so messy but a proper introduction is important Daddy always said mind your my I must do proper manners.

I. This girl and I stop. Breathe. Focus I will not mess up I will do this right she will know me know this me.

"I. Am Lucille. Countess of the de Montefort line. And." She is quiet so quiet but staring at her friend at me and.

Is she smiling?

"Who. Are you?"
"Sammy. Um." A quick laugh bubbles up out from her. "I mean. Samantha Alderton. Um." And. Yes. A smile a smile for me at me. "Hi."
"Good." Focus. It is not bright it is dark outside so it is. "Evening. Samantha Alderton."

"Why. I mean." Closer still, now her hands pale skin and no ring she is not claimed I was am too young. Samantha Alderton rests hands on the table, facing me across the wood and her friend. "Why is Chelle ti-"
"Why is she a shell?"
"Oh. Ha." Another small laugh, a shake of her head making blonde hair shuffle. "Michelle."

"Why is Michelle tied up?"
"She...." And. What do I say how do I make this Samantha Alderton understand the loneliness the dragging in and out of the dark place and no more please I am done I shall not ever again I.

Wish.

To.

Stay.

"May I." Lonely. I am cold and please I want and this girl she is. Here. So. "Kiss you? Samantha Alderton."
"What?"

Wide go her eyes but she does not run or scream or. Laugh.

"If you." Breathe. Focus. Manners always manners be a good girl and ask polite and and and.

Stop. Lucille.

Focus.

"If you would kiss me. Kiss this." I. Lucille, a ghost who can not feel but I can feel what she feels if I try if I focus and I am touching her. I nod downwards. "Michelle. Then I would be grateful. Samantha Alderton. I would be. Happy."

"You want a." Eyes still wide, tongue flicking out to lick red lips. "Kiss?"
"Please." Manners. "I am have been am alone all alone and I am I want to be I want I I I...."

Slipping. I can not it will not hold I can not focus and do life.

"Sorry." Looking down, fading back away I will leave stupid silly Lucille back go home back to the dark nobody I shall le-

"Wait."

And she's on the table kneeling bending down over her this Michelle but looking at me as I fade but.

"Yes?" I bring myself back. "Samantha Alderton?"
"If I." Her chest rising falling up down up down is hypnotic her top is tight I can see. "Stay."
"If you." Please. Just a little more without slipping. "Stay."
"Will you tie me up too?"
"I...." Staring into her eyes from across the table from laying on the table. "Would?"
"Will you...." A small nod, a smaller smile. Like hope not fear she hopes. "Talk to me?"
"Yes." I smile back with two mouths and she is pretty I have not courted in so long. "If you kiss me. If you stay. Then I will bind you, Samantha Allerton. I will. Talk. To you."

And. Tentative. Slow. So very slow and careful and I feel her lips feel a tingle.

I. Feel.

Samantha Alderton leans down. Kisses Michelle kisses me.

Once. A kiss that lasts for an instant lasts forever.

She lays down.

I make her a twin of Michelle who is not never was how strange to be a shell but not.

She is still smiling. Samantha Alderton. Bound but happy and I am happy I have been kissed I have felt I feel I.

One more girl to find. And then I can come back to talk for all time.

[Nainur]

...
One more girl to find. And then I can come back to talk for all time.

I am definitly looking forward to it!

[GreyLord]

Good job! Can this have a good ending? The ghost seems to be winning. If all of the girls are tied up, will all be inescapable? It is fascinating to see you develop this, [mention]RopeBunny[/mention].

[Caesar73]

...
One more girl to find. And then I can come back to talk for all time.

I am definitly looking forward to it!

Absolutely. This is intense and so well done.

[BlissfulMisery]

Hey,

Bound. Ha.

The only thing worse then a bondage ghost, is a punny ghost.

She looks tasty like a rabbit.

One more girl to find. And then I can come back to talk for all time.

Somehow I think Sammy is going to get a lot more then she bargained for.

Very amusing how Lucille becomes almost shy.

What do I say how do I make this Samantha Alderton understand the loneliness the dragging in and out of the dark place and no more please I am done I shall not ever again I.

And now perhaps we get a glimpse into her motivations...

Seems like things are coming to a head. Wonder what will happen once all the girls are tied up (as seems inevitable).

[RopeBunny]

Thank you all.

I can see you've managed to spot the conundrum: if Lucille ties up all the girls, what happens next?

Hmmmmm....

Thanks for the continued support and comments.

[RopeBunny]

009.
Morgan.

"Oh for." Kicking the empty beer can. Which I placed. Off into the darkness. "Fucks sake."

I.

Am.

Lost.

So. Here's what happened. Truthfully, because I've already told myself off enough times for trying to twist and paint events to make myself look better.

Lucille showed up. Em ran. And. Sorry Sam sorry sorry sorry. I, panicking too, ran away from both of them. Taking my torch. Leaving Sam in- sorry -complete darkness.

I ran. Just. Away was all I was thinking. Away from the ghost, from that creepy giggle. I ran, not looking ahead, not looking back. Following no set path and not paying the least attention to what turns I did take.

I remember stairs going down.

And now. Serves me right I guess. Here I am in the basement. Which so far appears to of been designed by a maze fanatic.

The can was my idea. Becoming more certain I was walking some kind of crazy loop through the same corridors no matter my left and right choices, I placed an empty green beer can down in the middle of my current corridor, then carried on.

Left. Right. Straight. Right.

Finding the can: green, placed upright in the centre of the corridor. Just where I left it.

So. Huffing. I tried again.

Straight. Left. Straight. Left. Left.

And.

Yep. Green can. Which I stared daggers at, stepped over, tried again.

Right. Right. Straight. Right. Left.

Finding the can, all innocent, waiting for me.

So I tried again. And again. And again. And each time after five or six turns there's the fucking can. Staring, laughing, at me.

So I kicked it.

Which brings you up to speed.

"Just." Stalking over to the can, which rolled, bounced off a wall, is laying on its side a half dozen metres away. "I don't understand?"

I mean?

"How." Snatching the green can up. "The fuck can." Giving it a shake. "Can...."

Sudden cold tingle down my spine. And I'd swear it just got darker, that the light from my torch just, somehow, grew that little bit dimmer.

Because.

I just had a- very bad -thought.

What if....

What if I'm not going around in circles. What if it isn't the same corridor.

Because.

"Shit." Flinching at my own voice, too loud down here in the quiet basement.

What if it isn't the same corridor because someone keeps moving the can.

And. Almost on cue. Almost as though she'd been waiting, all patient, for me to join the necessary mental dots.

From behind me.

A high pitched giggle.

"Ohshitshitshitfuck." Running, letting go the can which falls and clatters away into the dark. I run, not looking behind me, knowing anyway that I'll either see nothing or a slim grey shape floating.

Not knowing which would be worse.

I run. Instinct taking over to guide me left and right. Torchlight bouncing, useless for any kind of navigation at this speed as I, going too fast, slam into and launch myself off first one suddenly appearing wall, then another.

Running straight into something small, possibly green, which bangs and clatters away.

"Shit fuck fucki-" Quickly clamping a hand over my mouth because the small hairs marching down my neck just stood on end, because it just- I swear -got colder.

She's.

Behind me.

The knowledge, which I can't prove but feel in my gut, has frozen me to the spot.

I couldn't run now if I wanted too.

But. I can turn. And it's like I'm not even in control of myself. I don't want to turn, I don't want to see. I want to just stay here, down here in the dark facing the dark. Not seeing anything except the dark. Please.

But apparently I'm no longer in charge, because I'm turning. Slowly.

It takes me almost a full minute, a handful of lifetimes, to look up.

Noth. "Oh thank fuck." Thing.

A dark corridor, one I could- but won't -light up with my torch, right now pointed at the floor between my feet. Keeping me safe inside a small radius of not dark.

Maybe. I'll just sta-

A green beer can very deliberately, as though pushed, rolls out of the dark into my circle of light.

A girlish giggle, from, I'd swear, directly beside my left ear.

I scream. Run away.

Around a corner and straight into a towering stacked pyramid of multicoloured beer cans, tall and wide enough to entirely block the corridor I literally just a half minute ago ran down.

The sound of metal scattering and bouncing off the brick is deafening. One of the cans gets underfoot, tripping- I'm sure the little wanker did it on purpose -me.

I go flying, sprawling forwards onto my chest.

Feel a gust of wind pass over me, my torch plucked from the ground by invisible hands, my source of light, of sanity having landed and rolled just a metre away.

I run.

Somehow, blundering through complete darkness, a nightmare of half seen shapes, of walls I'm continually bouncing off like hells own pinball machine. Somehow I find stairs leading up.

Somehow I find my way back to the entrance hall where I find.

"Nononononono."

The front door. Closed. How is? I mean. It can't be. It. Just. Can't. I, we all, saw the amount of crap, the sheer weight of stuff, piled up against them.

And. My torch, still lit, dangling by its looped cord off one handle like a bad joke.

Like: here, you can't leave, but, I gave you light.

Something behind me.

Before I can override the natural impulse I'm turning to look. Coming face to face with Lucille at a distance of inches, her grey lipped wide smile, her eyes looking at me but through me at who even knows what?

Feels like my body overloads. Feels like a shutdown, like too much. My body clocking out. Back tomorrow guys good work we'll pick it up in the morning.

I crumple, collapsing into a heap.

Am only vaguely aware of my limbs being moved, can dimly, as though it's something happening to someone else, like in a movie, feel rope being wrapped around ankles and wrists, the latter pulling my arms around behind me, pinning them tightly but I don't care.

I'll care later. Tomorrow. Maybe.

I feel, distantly, my legs being bent at the knee, my arms lifted slightly. When I try to straighten my legs out again I can't, instead moving my legs, somehow, moves my arms too.

I giggle, feeling like a puppet, hearing an answering call from close by.

A cloth is wrapped around my head, pressed into my mouth.

And then. Nothing. I can, I'd swear, feel the absence of her, the empty space that Lucille was moments ago occupying as she bound and gagged me.

Shifting, trying and failing to get comfortable I look up.

Am not at all surprised to find a green beer can placed in front, close but out of my tied up reach.

Taunting me. Teasing.

Well. "Ffffggggmmm." Fuck. What now?

[BlissfulMisery]

Hey,

I really liked the subversion of the common horror trope of infinite mazes, as instead it was just Lucille messing with her.

Seems Lucille was toying with her prey much more now that there was only one left. Perhaps more 'cat' then 'wolf', but, to be fair, it does not seem like she has many other sources of entertainment...

Nice visual with the torch hanging off the door handle. Can imagine the light sweeping back and forth a little, contrasting the general gloom.

Either way, things are coming to head. Now that everyone is tied up, the question is will Lucille eventually decide to let them go? Or will someone show up to rescue them? Or does a darker fate await our would be ghost hunters?

[Caesar73]

I like this ghost Sorry Morgan, that the door was shut was to be expected. Lucille obviously has much fun. So things are not looking good for the hunters

[RopeBunny]

Either way, things are coming to head. Now that everyone is tied up, the question is will Lucille eventually decide to let them go? Or will someone show up to rescue them? Or does a darker fate await our would be ghost hunters?

So things are not looking good for the hunters

Answers, of a sort, are below

[RopeBunny]

Interlude.

Extracts taken from the combined reports of Dr L. F. Black, concerning interviews conducted over the previous two years with patient reference: Savage-CL822-05.


....patient referred due to repeated disruption caused to both school and home life. At this stage I note no obvious abnormalities, blood and other routine testing carried out (results on file) show green across the board....


....first impressions are of a quiet girl. Guarded. Miss Savage will, does, talk, but only if I choose to instigate conversation....


....talked about her friends, who "don't judge" what Miss Savage believes she can do. They appear to be her safe port, the people she can go to, prehaps the only people she truly trusts....


....despite repeated gentle coaxing I am, have been, unable to convince Miss Savage to let me in. I have yet to actually see any firm evidence of those things I have heard in interviews with both her parents and teachers....


....a breakthrough. Today Miss Savage was in a foul mood, the fact of which likely proved the spark for her to, finally, rise to my repeated offers to 'show me' what she can do.

Rising from her seat, Miss Savage proceeded to fetch a second chair, which she placed beside her own. She then sat back down, offering "Dr Franks" to sit too, commenting that he "looked really fucking tired."

She then, as I watched, engaged in a quite lively back and forth with this empty chair, discussing such historical events as the second world war only to switch seamlessly into a protracted explanation of TikTok, the latter part of her one sided conversation interspersed with much laughter.

Indeed it was only the chiming of my wall clock which put this fascinating charade to an end.

Miss Savage got up, thanked "Dr Franks" for his company, before turning to inform me that: "There, Doc, do you understand now?" I confessed I did not, to which she simply laughed, shook her head and told me to "go read some history sometime."

Interestingly, though it took me almost a week to find, this very office was occupied by a Dr W. O. Franks during the 1930's. Further digging revealed to me that the good doctor died in occupied France shortly after the Normandy landings.

How would Miss Savage, unless she too did her research, know what she clearly knew in order to pull off what she did in this office?

Is it all an elaborate trick?

I must....


....suspended from Highmore comprehensive for one week. For, and here I must quote the report I received directly: 'Arguing loudly during a maths exam with someone who wasn't there regarding her refusal to allow them to copy her answers.'

I am able to extract no explanations from Miss Savage for....


....could it be true? I am, slowly, working through those reports from school and family. Trying with some success, if I persevere, to tie Miss Savage's various 'conversations with persons not there' to actual people. All of whom are dead.

The more I dig, the more evidence I stack up in her favour. So, prehaps I must ask, can it be....

[Caesar73]

Nicely done That interlude answer some questions. Mrs Savage talks to people not present - going out on a limb I woud saym that Mrs. Savage is possessed

[RopeBunny]

going out on a limb I woud saym that Mrs. Savage is possessed

Not quite, though I can see the reasoning.

Miss Savage, the subject of Dr Black's reports, makes her long delayed appearance below.

[RopeBunny]

010.
Carmen.

And I'm awake.

Not that I actually made any conscious decision to sleep in the first place, but often when I lay on my bed with music- any music, even hard rock would you believe -pumped in through my headphones, I'll wind up drifting off.

"Okay." Pulling off the headphones, sitting up and rubbing at my face. "Okay. I'm coming."

I was supposed to go anyway. To Coombe, to Lupin Manor, but I got grounded yesterday.

Again.

At first, my parents tried. But unfortunately what they tried to do was find some cure. As though a bunch of brightly coloured pills or a twice monthly therapy session could possibly stop my being able to see and talk to ghosts.

Fucks sake.

Ghosts. Yes. I did say what you thought you just heard. I. Can. Talk. To. And. See. Ghosts.

How? Why? Not a fucking clue. The main point, in fact for me the only point that matters is: I'm okay with it.

But my parents. Not so much.

Trying to help turned to being annoyed, bizarrely at me, that nothing was helping. Which turned to a more general annoyance every time my 'abilities' caused some sort of upset or trouble.

Oh. I used the quote marks because they do. Seriously.

It's not my fault. Really. Ghosts don't tend to shut up- far as I can tell they can't be heard, can't talk, to normal people, so guess how pleased they are to find I can hear them -or leave, even if I ask politely. So, often my own temper winds up flaring, which to everyone else looks like crazy Carmen yet again blowing up and shouting at empty air.

And shouting at school does tend to get you into trouble. As does shouting at home.

On top of all that I, sometimes, see things too. Sometimes I'll dream other people's lives, as though, whilst asleep, I flew across town to stare down from above at one of my sleeping friends.

Can I control what, who, I see? No. But I wish- considering some of what I've seen -I could.

"Aren't you grounded?"
"Probably." Dressed in black jeans and pink trainers, a pale blue tee and a long multicoloured striped scarf, my long fur lined black coat. Dumping my messenger bag on the kitchen counter I open the fridge, pulling out a couple of cans, a couple more, tossing them all in.

"Are you pregnant?"
"What?" Brief shock, turning to stare at my older- by two years -sister Lisa, sat at the family table finishing her English coursework. I look from her to the pile of chicken and stuffing- leftovers from last nights dinner -sandwiches I've made.

"Well. Um." I giggle. "No. But. I might have to share. So."
"So you're making extra."
"So I'm making extra." Nodding. Wrapping my efforts up in clingfilm.

"Mum and Dad won't be happy."
"No." Bag on my shoulder, halfway to the door I stop. "No." Shaking my head, not turning around. "But." A shrug.

"Ghost stuff again huh?"
"Something like that." Now I do turn, finding a small smile on Lisa's face. She might not get it, and teases me any chance she can about it, but. She's my sister, and we- mostly -get on. So.

"Take care Car."
"I'll try Lise."

Chelle, wearing nothing but a rather skimpy bra and thong, stretched out and lashed down atop some old scratched table top. And beside her, Sammy, fully clothed yet stretched and bound just the same.

And both of them smiling.

That's what I'd seen. Which, well. I'm not one to judge so, if Chelle and Sammy want to be rope buddies, if Chelle wants to show off those killer E cups of hers, then. Fair enough.

Except.

Tonight all the girls are in Coombe, at supposedly haunted Lupin Manor. So I don't think Chelle tied up in her underwear is, on this occasion, a good thing.

I make it to the station in time to catch the last train, pondering, as we click-clack our way through the dark countryside, on the odds my friends don't actually need my help.

They could all be fine.

Prehaps Morgan, or Beth- but not Em, she's way too quiet -tied Chelle and Sammy up as some kind of prank. Or something.

But I don't think so.

At Coombe station I check the departure boards, and we're definitely not leaving until the morning.

Good thing I bought copious amounts of food and snacks.

Pulling out my phone I check Google maps whilst I still have signal, take a screenshot, then swap phone for Dad's chunky black torch- which I didn't ask permission to borrow, but since I'll already be in trouble for leaving the house fuck it -and set off uphill.

An hour plus change later, having not long ago passed through the entrance to Lupin estate, I find Beth.

I almost don't see her, almost walk straight by despite how vocal she's being. Is trying to be. When I finally rise up out of daydream land and start paying attention.

Doesn't help that the darkness out here is so complete, Beth's red puffer jacket has no chance of standing out.

"Get me the fuck off this tree."
"And a good evening to you too." Tossing the rope -one of many it seems crisscrossing her body from head to toes, this one had been gagging her -away. "Bethany."
"Yeah okay." Grinning white teeth at me, Beth's smiles always look so wide framed in that dark skinned face. "Evening Car. Now." Wriggling her still bound body at me. "Get me the fuck off this tree before that crazy ghost bitch comes back."

Ah.

So. Not an elaborate prank.

Of all the ghosts I've encountered very few actually do anything besides drift around watching people. Very few actually interact with the world. And of those few I've never come across a ghost with a penchant for bondage.

Given all of that. Following a train of thought. If the ghost tied them up, what if she's unwilling to let them. Us. Me. Leave.

"Here."
"Carry your own fucking bag girl."
"Ha." Shaking my head, holding my bag out still. "No. I mean." I grin. "Yes. Sure. But, I meant take this, and head back into the village."
"Ohhhh. Kay?" Taking my bag, shouldering it. "But. Why?"
"No point hanging around here waiting whilst I go find the others right?" I shrug, making my tone purposefully light, easy. "And besides there's food in there."

A trickle. That's my thinking, my cobbled together without real time to plan. Plan. If the girls leave one at a time, maybe the ghost won't notice.

Although I've no clue why she's keeping them here. Because that's what it looks like.

Why else tie someone up unless you don't want them to leave?

So. If the girls leave as I find them, maybe the ghost. Is it actually Lucille herself? Maybe we can sneak off into the night, back to Coombe.

"A great plan." I mutter, waving and smiling as Beth, already a couple dozen metres away, looks back over her shoulder. "With only two minor flaws."

In order to aid the girls escape, I'll likely need to be a distraction.

And. Something tells me the ghost is there with Chelle and Sammy. As silly as it sounds my gut tells me it's guarding them.

Why? Not a fucking clue. But. Guess I'll find out when I get to them.

So the second flaw is that it seems certain I'll have to face, talk to, this rope loving ghost, before we can all leave.

"And that's just fucking great." I tut, putting Beth, the safety of the path out, at my back, walking uphill towards Lupin Manor.

[BlissfulMisery]

Well the interlude raised a bunch of questions... which were answered by the chapter.

Seems like Carmen is going to have to negotiate with Lucille. Of course how you do negotiate with a ghost, who based on what we have seen from Lucille's point of view, does not really think like a person, and has impulses and desires that do not always make complete sense.

Interested to see what happens next.

[GreyLord]

This was a fun chapter setting the stage for more fun ahead. Can't wait!

[Caesar73]

Interested to see what happens next.

Me too I wonder too how Carmen want´s to negotiate with Lucille Well done!