In the early hours. Three or four o’clock, the entire World of the undead was in my mansion or so it seemed, all the rooms were filled with spirits talking in whisper to one another. I thought it was so cold inside, it could snow. My confidence was swiftly eroding. I looked down at my thin, bare arms, and there appeared goose bumps. I hurried up the staircase to the Daisy Bedroom, trying to ignore the supernatural gathering. That afternoon, I found that the housemaid Brigitta had prepared a delicious roast with all the trimmings. Yes, it was wonderful to have help around the house. After supper, Brigitta made some coffee and we settled down in the parlor for the delightful business of catching up on each other’s lives. During the course of conversation, Brigitta commented on the attractive new sofa. Talk of the sofa reminded Brigitta of the shadow that she had seen the past two evenings. “Mrs. Winchester,” she said, “the past two nights when I stayed late, I became aware of something kind of wispy floating around me.” Then she laughed, affecting an expression of mock horror. “It’s inconceivable, what you are thinking,” I said. Suddenly Brigitta felt a strange chill shudder through her body. It was as if her disclosure seriously offended the unseen guest in the room. “Mrs. Winchester, what do you mean ‘inconceivable’?” said Brigitta. She experienced a fear of the unknown. I had seen demons in the sky, monsters ready to swoop down and snatch them all up and carry them back to that hideous dungeon cell, demons coming forth from the dark trees that encircled the house, demons hovering at the top of the stairs in the shadows, but I could not let her know that. “Oh, my dear Brigitta, surely you are mistaken. It must have just been a draft or dust. I can assure you of this.” I said. #RandolphHarris 1 of 5

“Yes, for the moment, we can agree to this,” Brigitta said. “Of course, this is reasonable.” All at once she felt surrounded by ugly, malignant hatred. She was stiffened with fear as she realized that whatever it was, she had offend it, and it had decided it would get even with her somehow. Everywhere she walked, she felt surrounded by cold hatred. The next morning at breakfast, everything seemed as it should be. Only Brigitta seemed to be away of a subtle change in my home’s atmosphere. Brigitta left work warly that afternoon. Lights went out early in her home that evening. Sadly, they did not remain that way for very long. The family had been asleep for only a few hours when Brigitta heard her son screaming. As Brigitta enter the room, she was shocked by the chill in the air. Although she could see nothing, she was certain that the evil, shadowy force had been after her son. It took two hours for her to calm her son down. When her son was asleep again, Brigitta decided that she must tell her husband about the shadow being she had seen in the Winchester Mansion. She described something cold, unseen moving around and my home and suspected that it was following her. The next day when Brigitta retuned to my home to work, she could see the emotional turmoil that boiled within the mansion. She kept insisting that she had seen an ugly ghost, day in and day out. “There is something evil and awful in the house, and it has been following me home, Mrs. Winchester.” I replied coldly that neither she nor I saw any shadowy thing moving around the house. Brigitta was confused. She figured that it was really a shadow of guilt moving across her psyche, an attempt to get her to stay home and be a good mother. #RandolphHarris 2 of 5

Suddenly she felt the room’ temperature drop. Warning alarms went off in her brain, and she feared raising her eyes to look around the room. As the deathlike chill permeated the room, an atmosphere of hatred seems to solidify. She knew that something monstrous and evil was in the mansion. There, in front of her, was the shadow that she had first seen a week ago. Both the hands and face of the dark form now appeared lighter, and Brigitta was able to make out features on its face. The thing was grossly emaciated, and yellowish green skin stretched tautly across its high cheekbones. Long fingers that looked like claws. Dark, soulless eyes stared hollowly at her, and the ghastly image curled its lips into a vile sneer. Brigitta’s body began to tremble. At last she was certain she knew what the being intended to do with her. It intended to steal her soul and inhabit her body. Slowly the loathsome form dematerialized before her eyes. The chill lifted from the room. With a sudden jolt of fear, Brigitta ran from the kitchen. A sound from the hallway startled her. “My God, Brigitta, I saw that thing take shape. What was it?” I said. Tears of relief flooded Brigitta’s eyes. I had seen the thing. Now she knew she was not losing her mind. “It’s all so primitive and superstitious, Brigitta,” I said. “It…It wants me, doesn’t it?” Brigitta asked in a voice barely a whisper. “An evil spirit trying to possess you. How could this be?” I asked. “I feel they are looking at us right now,” Brigitta had said. All had fallen silent. The French windows everywhere made her anxious; the black night pressing on the glass made her anxious. The sound of wind moving in the black trees made her anxious. Brigitta wanted to walk outside, see the stars. #RandolphHarris 3 of 5

She went out for a walk along the road, and came upon a stranger who changed her life. The stranger who approached Brigitta was a handsome man with thick dark hair and a mustache. Brigitta quickly saw that the man wore a bloody Confederate soldier’s uniform. The two stared at each other for a second and Brigitta saw the bullet wound just as the soldier grabbed her and dragged her into the shadowy orchard. The Confederate released Brigitta when she promised not to scream, and in sharp whispers he explained his predicament. Brigitta was instantly smitten and promised to not give him up. She made a decision that would change the course of her life—she would help the man. She hid the soldier in one of the rooms in my mansion and attended to him. For two weeks, she had abandoned her family to bring him food and water, and during that time they fell in love. When the soldier was well, and was getting ready to leave, Brigitta was furious. Anger and pain surged through her and she swung at him. Terrible words came from her mouth, she attacked him like a pained animal. The betrayal was devastating and for awhile Brigitta was blinded by her anger. The solider defended himself from her physical attacks. He ducked when she swung, caught her wrists when she tried to claw at him, and tried to stop her. She called him derogatory names. She vowed to destroy them both. In the heat of the moment, the solider gave Brigitta a shove and she fell down the stairs. Did he mean to murder her? We don’t know because what was in his heart. At the bottom of the stairs was Brigitta’s broken body. #RandolphHarris 4 of 5

What was do know was that the war ended in 1866, so by 1898, there would have been no Confederate soldiers wandering in the orchard. During the renovations, we found her Bible in a small walled-up room. In the Bible were the pages from Brigitta’s journal chronicling her lost love and her lonely suffering. I discovered the facts about what happened to Brigitta during a séance. Within moments of asking the spirits, I felt the chill of a being approaching. The window panes began to vibrate with such violence that it seemed as if they would shatter at any moment. The draperies flapped noisily, as though they were flags on a pole, resisting a strong wind, and its ghastly form began to materialize before me. An eerie sepulchral haze surrounded the entity as it moved inexorably toward me. Its bony arms were outstretched, and an almost irresistible force seemed to flow from its yellow-green claws. I could not empty my mind of the thought that if those vicious hand should ever touch me, my very essence would be ripped from me. The being stepped closer, and for one terrible moment I felt myself faltering. My mind began to swirl, and I knew that I was losing my strength to the entity’s demonical power. From far away I could hear its soulless laughter. The sound of that pitiless cackle sent me into another dimension. A place where I could see what had happened to Brigitta. I tapped a source of primeval energy. When the entity was done, it grew smaller and fainter as it moved backward. Eventually its vaguely luminescent quality had vanished, and I was staring at the formless shadow that Brigitta had offended. It hovered in the Blue Séance Room before it evaporated. With only the pale light from the moon, I collapsed. #RandolphHarris 5 of 5

Winchester Mystery House

One should be wary of an indiscriminate exploration of the occult or of “ghost hunting” in haunted houses or places. Without proper discipline, study, and discernment, the ill-prepared are liable to interact only with those entities who will seek to deceive and entrap them. https://winchestermysteryhouse.com/

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