Non-SW: The Eleventh Hour (PG-13)

[Tysyacha]

After the chess game had concluded, the gaslit lamps in the room seemed to grow brighter and brighter, and one of them even exploded from the heat. Shakhmaty slapped a white-gloved hand over her mouth, trying not to scream, but fortunately for Jacob, Ebony and herself, none of the glass shards that went flying hit any of them. Then, the flames dimmed to naught.

 

BENJAMIN E. FAKTOR'S MANSION, 12/31/11, 9:00 PM

 

Two ghostly apparitions suddenly appeared at the mahogany card table, glowing as if they themselves had swallowed gas lamps: Donald Corbin, dark-haired, swarthy and robust, and Thaddeus Ward, his pale-haired teenage footman. In front of one sat a red candle in a votive; in front of the other, a paper and quill pen. Donald Corbin, being the richer and more powerful, spoke:

 

"Tad. You know what I'm offering you. It's the chance of a lifetime. I know that signing over your immortal soul to the same master I serve is not exactly your cup of tea, but think about it. You're a slag shoveler, and even though Coombs fancies you, you're not his favorite pet. Would you rather reign on Earth, or serve in heaven? I would have owned the Foundry myself, and taken this same deal, had it not been for the fact that I'd rather see Coombs in his tomb than be rich right now. We have two different motives."

 

Thaddeus Ward--Benjamin E. Faktor--gasped. "You're mad, Corbin!"

 

"Am I? Let me fill you in on a little secret. Everyone thinks that the Devil tortures and torments those who are on his side, either by default or by contract. I ask you: what general would do such things to his troops? Thaddeus, if you were rich--if my master granted you the power you needed to get in Coombs' good graces via the manipulation of your dark abilities, you could do Icecliff a world of good. Hiram only cares about himself. Would you rather slave away for the rest of your days? You can barely read and write. There's no way you can go to university and get the education you need to run the Foundry. It's too late. Besides--if you and my master join forces, Coombs will soon die anyway, and through his devious plans, you the footman will inherit his fortune! Dream of it, Thaddeus, and sign the tract!"

 

"Tad" shook his head. "I will not. Although, why would the Devil let me use the money I inherited for the sake of good? He only wants to do evil."

 

"If 'evil' is not buckling under to some supposedly all-powerful God, then of course he wants to do evil! The lot that God has appointed for you is to be a servant and a laborer. Don't you want more than that? You could take care of your dying father and ailing mother. Why did God turn the world over to the Devil after the fall of Man? It is because he hates humanity. Adam and Eve made a choice, to serve themselves instead of Him, and He abandoned them. God sent all to Hell, not Satan, unless they would become His slaves. You would do better to be powerful than powerless. You have a good heart. What good is it without power? Right now, you can do nothing but work."

 

"I don't think that this is the way to rectify that," retorted Tad.

 

"Isn't it?"

 

Tad suddenly had an idea. He signed the contract. "Once I'm rich, I'll repent. I'll run the Foundry well, and when my family is safe in the arms of God, healthy or at least in their graves, then I'll forsake everything."

 

Donald Corbin laughed and laughed. "Do you really think you'll be able to?

 

The ghosts vanished, and the living guests in the Game Room stared in shock.

[Cyborg Ninja]

Now that he was dead, Artemis realized how boring this game really was. Not only did he leave half way through the other two ghost's conversation but he actually thought about how great it would be to die a second time just to stir up some excitment. With that a thought popped into his head and he began to search for the maid. She had been around these ghosts for quite a while, perhaps she could help him. After that he'd try to go find Corbin and warn him as well. He made his way into the kitchen but didn't see her. He continued floating around until he found her talking to some other man he did not yet meet. He floated his way in between the two and turned to face the maid.

 

"Henrietta my dear, I know you can see me. I need your help right now, I need to know if there's any other way for me to make contact with the real world again. Is there anyway to make my body rise once again?"

[Tysyacha]

Henrietta, standing in the kitchen, suddenly stepped backward as if startled. Once she realized that this ghost, unlike the other ones in this mansion, meant no harm to her, she smiled and shook her head sadly.

 

"I'm sorry, but no. No one here has the skills of one Doctor Frankenstein. However, there is something you can do to help everyone, living and dead, within the walls of this house. Certain ghosts have certain 'haunts'--rooms of which they are particularly fond and which they like to inhabit. Back in 1867, on the fateful night of another New Year's Eve party, the former owner of this mansion murdered the six guests who had attended. The guests were all his enemies. One was his sister, who despised him. One was his former lover, who swore she would have nothing to do with him. One was a poor Gypsy girl, who told everyone's fortune and drew a bad Tarot card for Coombs. One was the principal investor of the Icecliff Steel Foundry, who hated him. One was a foreman, one of the best that Coombs had ever had--and who loathed him for not giving him the promotion he deserved. The last ghost and guest?"

 

She pursed her lips. "Donald Corbin. Next in line to run the Foundry. He had it in for Coombs, and he was also into the occult. Does that name sound familiar to you? It should. I am almost certain that Corbin fellow here tonight is a relative of that ghostly wretch who convinced Faktor to sell his soul to the Devil. If you can find the one room in this house that Donald Corbin haunts, and somehow figure out a way to obliterate his presence there, I would be glad." She raised an eyebrow. "After that...I'll take you to see him. Faktor needs help, but it's not the kind of help that I can give. After all, I can only barely see you, and there are others here who are more sensitive."

[Alkonium]

Once, Tim made his presence known simply by speaking to the others in the room, startling Henrietta slightly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but one of the guests is named Corbin. I think there might be a connection, familial or otherwise. Though he didn't look like he had the strength to gut a man, he seemed as though he had the brains to poison one. Who were you talking to, anyway." He pointed out, maintaining his role as de facto investigator.