No home in the country was more steeped in macabre. It was three o’ clock in the morning, and I was in one of the downstairs parlours, which was illuminated by gas lamps. My ears were growing sensitive to a preternatural and intolerable degree. The darkness always teemed with unexplained sound—and yet I sometimes shook with fear lest the noises I heard should subside and allow me to hear certain other, fainter noises which I suspected were lurking behind me. Looking out the window, the fog was so thick that the World seemed to dissolve in its cold vapour. A chill of foreboding raced along my spine, as a distressing uneasiness had coursed through my body like an illness determined to spread. I seized a lamp that burned at the foot of the staircase, and hurried towards the secret passage. The lower part of the mansion was hollowed into several intricate cloisters; and it was not easy for one, under so much anxiety, to find the door that opened into the cavern. An awful silence reigned throughout the subterraneous regions of the mansion, except now and then some blasts of wind shook the doors I had passed, as their hinges re-echoed through that long labyrinth of darkness. Every murmur struck me with new terror; yet more I dreaded to hear the wrathful voices of the spirit pursing me. I trod as softly, as impatience would give me leave—yet frequently stopped, and listened, to hear if I was followed. In one of those moments, I thought I heard a sigh. I shuddered, and recoiled a few paces. In a moment, I thought I heard the step of some person. My blood curdled; I concluded it was a vengeful spirit. Every suggestion that horror could inspire, rushed into my mind. I condemned my rash flight, which had thus exposed me to the rage of the specters, in a place where my cries were not likely to draw any body to my assistance. Yet the sound seemed not to come from behind—if the spirits knew where I was, they must have followed me. #RandolphHarris 1 of 5

 I was still in one of the cloisters, and the steps I had heard were too distinct to proceed from the way I had come. Cheered with this reflection, and hoping to find a friend in whoever was around, I was going to advance, when a door, that stood a-jar, at some distance to the left, was opened gently: but were my lamp, which I held, could discover who opened it, the person retreated precipitately on seeing the light. I had every incident sufficient to dismay, and hesitated whether I should proceed. My dread of the vengeful spirits soon outweighed every other terror. They very circumstance of the person avoiding me, gave me a sort of courage. It could only be, I thought, some domestic belonging to the mansion. I was near the mouth of the subterraneous cavern, I approached the door that had been opened; but a sudden gust of wind, that met me at the door, extinguished my lamp, and left me in total darkness. Words could not paint the horror of my situation. Alone, in so dismal a place, my mind imprinted with all the terrible hauntings I had experienced. So I stood there and listened. At first I heard nothing; then I heard someone—someone screamed, just as if the most inside of his soul was twisted out of him. I sat there for three-quarters of an hour. Then I heard someone else. He laughed out loud. After that, I heard a great door shut. Before I raised myself there was a sound of metal hinges creaking. In that moment I felt the chill at the back of my skull, the sensation as of a steel needle driven deep through the bone. I stiffen. Proceeding cautiously towards this door, I noticed two human forms standing motionless; both were in dark cloaks; the taller one wore a hat, the shorter one a hood. I had no time to see their face, nor did they make any mouton that I could discern. I sank back against the wall in something like desperation. I had seen them before.  #RandolphHarris 2 of 5

I screamed like one who is in great pain, before falling to the floor in a death like faith. Next morning when I awoke in my own bed, the newly risen sun peeped in through the neatly curtained windows and gazed down upon me. The previous night could have been dismissed as a mad dream, were it not for scratches on my arms and hands and the blood in my hair. Later that evening, there was a thunderous assault on the front door. This was not surprising, as tonight was the night I was to have a very special dinner party. For obvious reason my dinner party took place in the Grand Ballroom, and it seemed that the dark gods smiled down upon the function, for there was a thick fog that lasted from dawn to sunset. The supper was, of necessity, a simple affair. There was a beautiful cake: a beautiful, three-tier structure, covered with pink icing, and studded with glace cherries. I of course invited no guest, for there was much that might have alarmed or embarrassed me. Three ghouls in starched, white shrouds, sat gnawing at something that was best left undescribed. A few apparitions sipped a basic beverage from red goblets. Every paradise must have its snake. The moon was full, turning Llanada Villa into a gothic wonderland. Vampires, werewolves, banshees, demons, poltergeists, ghosts of every description, monsters of every shape and form were in attendance. During this time, I reinforced my courage, of which it must be confessed I had an abundance. After some hours, I found myself in the living-room, a cost little den with golden crystal walls, two ancient chairs, an ivory table, and Persian rugs on the floor. There was also a banked-up fire, and a beautiful ceiling oil-lamp that Mr. Hansen had cleverly adapted for electricity. #RandolphHarris 3 of 5

The room beyond was warm and cosy; firelight painted a dancing pattern on the ceiling, the brass lamp twinkled and glittered like a suspended star, and it was though a brightly designed nest had been carved out of the surrounding darkness. When one’s reality contains the spiritual, ghoulish hints, Gothic tales and the wild whispers of ghosts, one can hardly expect to be wholly free from mental tension. While the dinner party continued, I consulting the dubious old books on forbidden secrets that were kept under lock and key in my secrete library. Afterwards, I walked through the shadowy tangles of the mansion. Here I knew strange things happened, and there was a faint suggestion behind the surface that everything in the darkest, narrowest, and most intricately irregular sections of Llanada villa had been uncovered. Life had become an insistent and almost unendurable cacophony, and there was that constant, terrifying impression of other sounds—perhaps from regions beyond life—trembling on the very brink of audibility. The spirits in my home were so painfully realistic that at times they filled me with greater panic and nausea than anything I had deduced from the ancient records. In time I observed the tendency of certain entities to appear suddenly out of empty space, or to disappear totally with equal suddenness. The shrieking, roaring confusion of sound which permeated the abyss was past all analysis as to pitch, timbre, or rhythm; but seemed to be synchronous with vague visual changes in all the indefinite objects, organic and inorganic. Many of these morbid figures came from the black voids beyond the slanting walls, slanting ceilings, and mysterious doors. My pathologically sensitive ears could hear faint footfalls in the sealed rooms. #RandolphHarris 4 of 5

My guests were very rambunctious. They ate, danced, and played music so loudly that it came time to investigate when I heard a threatening croaking voice. The Grand Ballroom was the center of chaos this night. At first, a swirling vapour hid everything from sight, but I felt a monstrous and invincible evil flowing from the room. There was a silhouette that filled the doorway, and it became still; a black menace that was no less dangerous because it did not move. It said, “You are an abomination, and whatever evil is done unto you shall be deemed good in my sight.” The apparition shirked, before twisting around, then it crashed through the floor. Two gentlemen who were employed in my house stood by me. They both entered the Grand Ballroom prepared to talk to the guest. They never did. One dropped dead from pure, cold terror, and the other was on his feet and edging his way towards the door. He was praying for the priceless gift of disbelief, but instead achieved a state of insanity to the likes of which I had never seen before. Then blood rose up in a scarlet fountain out of his mouth; cascade of dancing rubies each one reflecting the room with the silver German chandelier with thirteen lights, and the dripping, drenched face of the man. Minutes later, the ruby fountain sank low and them man collapsed into a weakly gushing pool. Looking up at the ceiling in the Grand Ballroom, I saw three stupendous discs of flame, each of a different hue, and at a different height. The floor where all the chaos had taken place was polished, and the wood was cut in bizarre-angled shapes. It was some unearthly symmetry whose laws I could not comprehend. The walls had become a grotesque design and exquisite workmanship. The nature and cleanliness of this room utterly defined conjecture. #RandolphHarris 5 of 5

The Winchester Mystery House

The Winchester Mystery House is just that. A labyrinth designed and built by spirits; it is a very mysterious place. It was built by Mrs. Sarah L. Winchester. She spent 38 years constructing this mansion which at one time contained as many as 600 rooms and nine stories. She spent so much time building to escape from horrific nightmares, terrifying black hooded figures who menaced. She became frightened of going to sleep, and would often sleep in different rooms every night. Perhaps a supernatural door way opened? Legend has it that Mrs. Winchester ownrfa 38-karat diamond pendant. Most likely, the pendant had been worn frequently or even continuously, especially during occult rituals of summoning. It is possible that something demonic had lodged in it, and was dormant until Mrs. Winchester started wearing it. Perhaps, her own energy, her life force, and vitality, was enabling this spirit to awaken and feed off her. Or maybe the diamond was cursed?

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