annotated floorplan - simple floorplan

Lennox spun around, flashlight sweeping the area, but he didn’t see anyone.

“Who’s there?”

The female voice chuckled. “You just looked right over me. You were watching for a face, I imagine. Try that again, more slowly.”

“What are you talking about? Who are you?” He scanned the direction the voice seemed to be coming from, more thoroughly.

And stopped short.

“There you go,” the voice said. “You found me.”

“What... okay, that’s a really sweet trick, but how are you doing that?”

“It’s not a trick. I’m just me.”

It was obviously a trick.

Because all he could see was clothing: low red boots with substantial wedge heels, white lace stockings that vanished up under the ragged bottom edge of very faded denim shorts, a sheer red close-fitting sleeveless top over a well-filled white bra, white lace fingerless gloves that appeared to run halfway past elbow-length, a red suede collar. All of it outlined a body with comfortable curves. He could even see dangly earrings, metallic scales that were a mix of red and white. Possibly the most bizarre was that he could see what must be makeup, just deep red glossy lips and heavy black eyeliner with a dusting of pearly white just above. The lips appeared to be smiling, and the rest of the body language suggested someone who was relaxed and non-threatening.

But there was no one inside those clothes. A simple enough trick when using a green screen, but in person?

“It has to be a trick.”

“It is not a trick,” she repeated. “You’re in a haunted house on Hallowe’en. Were you expecting to see nothing outside of your normal life? I’m Wanda. And yes, I’m invisible. To you, anyway. Only sometimes, to my family. What are you doing?”

“I, um, I’m looking for any signs of paranormal activity.” He frowned at her giggle. “I investigate claims and debunk them. I have yet to find anything that couldn’t be explained rationally.”

“So having found an invisible woman while investigating, and not having a rational explanation, you simply conclude that it is a trick you don’t know but simple truth is impossible.” She sounded amused. She came closer to him, and one lace-gloved hand reached towards him. He felt a warm hand against his cheek, but he still couldn’t see anything except clothing. “I’m right here.”

It was just not possible.

He reached down, jerking open the flap over the pocket halfway down his right thigh.

“What are you looking for?”

“My phone has extra hardware that allows it to see infrared. Heat images.”

She giggled again. “Cheeky! Are you trying to see through my clothes? All right, go ahead and try.”

He pulled out his phone, checked that the camera was plugged in solidly, and turned it on.

When he raised it and scanned the area, it unequivocally showed him a human shape, with distinctly feminine curves that under other conditions he would have considered rather intriguing.

When he lowered the phone and raised the flashlight again, however, spotlighting her in the dim yellow-tinged illumination, he could see only clothes.

“Okay, it’s a brilliant trick. If I turn off the camera and promise not to tell anyone, will you tell me how you’re doing it?”

“Sure.”

Lennox turned off the camera on his chest.

“The one over there is still on and pointed at us,” she said. “But I don’t mind.” She stepped closer to him, and he felt her breath on his skin, just ahead of his ear. “I’m invisible because I live in a house full of what you’d call monsters and this is what I happen to be.” She kissed his cheek and laughed, then spun around and sauntered away, invisible hips swaying under her cutoff shorts. She climbed a few steps of one of the paired great staircases and sat down there. Probably she was watching him.

He could see that much unexpectedly clearly, because warm yellow light was spilling out of the music room and dining room to either side, and it was glowing in the main hallway too, although there was no direct source in the great open space he was standing in. There were no longer dust sheets over the furniture, and the bird cage gleamed like polished brass, though it had nothing in it.

“All right, very funny,” he said, trying to keep a growl out of his voice. “I know this house doesn’t have anyone living in it, so someone is... what, trying to prank me?”

“Oh, yes. Everything is all about you, and not just my family and I going on with our lives in our own home.”

“Your... it’s abandoned with no clear owner, so, what, squatters?”

“Squatters? Do you know who built this house?”

“Some guy called Richard Mallory.”

“And his wife Ségolène. Yes. Who has a better right to live here and decide who to share it with?”

“They’re dead. No heirs.”

“You’re going to have a terrible night.” Wanda actually sounded sad, all the laughter bleeding out of her voice. “But this is Mistress’ standard warning. No one living here has any desire to kill or harm you, but there is no way out of the house until sunrise. If you want, you can find a place to stay for the night and we’ll all leave you alone. If you choose to do anything else, you’ll be safe but it will probably be uncomfortable at moments. But it could also be tons of fun and just might be rewarding and educational, if you’re open to it.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m here to investigate the entire house, every nook and cranny, for the night. Having people around is going to completely ruin any paranormal data, but...” He paused to think, a new idea dawning. He just might be able to salvage something out of this mess. “You said your whole family is here?”

“My whole family lives here. All the time, every day. Just not in the dead house you think you’re in. Yes.”

“And they’re, uh... monsters too?”

“Of course they are.”

“Can I, um, meet them?”

“Are you sure you want to? I don’t think you’ll like that very much.”

“Sure I will. The weirder the better.”

Wanda sighed audibly. “All right. How about I take you to our resident scientist? Maybe she can speak your language.”

“And she’s a... a monster?”

“She’s part of my family and the household, so she’s a monster. I told you that. I’ll show you where if you like.”

“Please.” He wasn’t very sanguine about any scientist who was involved in this insanity, but he did want to see whether the spectacular effects used to make Wanda look invisible in person persisted in others.

“All right.” Wanda stood up. “Come on, she’s almost right at the top of these stairs. No one will touch your wagon and your cameras and all. You wanted to set up more cameras, you could set one up on the balcony to catch the whole great hall at once, or something.”

“There’s no point. I can’t do a ghost investigation and debunking in a house full of living people. I’m still not sure whether you know that and are deliberately interfering or just happen to be doing something weird in the same place and at the same time that I’m trying to record an investigation, but it’s totally impossible.” He gave his wagon a worried look, but dragging it around all night was going to be problematic, and he didn’t really want to pack everything up right this instant anyway. He decided to take her at her word that far and left it there for the moment. He could return quickly.

“Why? Ghosts don’t like living people?”

“Ghosts aren’t real. But there’s no way to isolate the effects and find the real cause of whatever it is, doors moving or footsteps or lights or whatever, if there are people all over the place who are probably making old floorboards shift and creak and stuff like that.”

“Oh, I see. So if ghosts are around living people during the day, they’re too easy to dismiss as being misinterpretations and mistakes. It’s only an interesting challenge at night when there’s no one else around.”

“That’s not what I... nevermind.”

“And if it’s while you’re alone, it’s pretty hard for anyone to contradict you.”

“I don’t lie to anyone! And that’s what the recordings are for! Other people help me go through those!”

“But they only have recordings. Even I know that things happen that aren’t in front of the camera. And I didn’t say you lied to anyone. But I have personal evidence right now that you refuse to believe things right in front of you if they contradict what you think is possible. I think it’s reasonable to assume that it would be even easier to deny something that you don’t see for yourself.” She giggled again. “I don’t know how you’re going to explain most of my family to yourself. Did you come up with an explanation for me yet?”

“I’m still working on that.” Mirrors or projection or something? That would mean she wasn’t physically where she seemed to be. But the IR camera had picked up her presence, and he’d touched her. Well, she’d touched him, close enough.

The stairs took them to one end of a landing so broad there were two antique chairs on it, mirroring the other flight on the far side of the entrance hall. From here, a single flight ran upwards from the centre of it. They stepped into a wide neat hallway with an intricate runner down the centre of it and occasional tables scattered along it bearing knickknacks. The walls bore many framed paintings and, rarely, other things—he wasn’t expecting the large and elaborate dreamcatcher, for one thing. It was all illuminated by the glow of gas lamps spaced along the walls. He could see over a railing down into what she’d called the great hall, his gear still there.

Wanda beckoned to him, and showed him a short way down the hall to a door. She opened it without knocking, but only a short distance.

“Fifi?” she said loudly. “Is it safe?”

“Absolutely,” a deep but very feminine voice declared from within. “Come in!”

“Over here,” Wanda said, pushing the door open all the way. “We have a guest who’s into science and says there’s no such thing as the supernatural. Can you help?”

“Delighted to try.”

Lennox followed Wanda to, and into, the room.

There were shelves and tables everywhere, and lots and lots of glassware, some of it full of oddly-coloured liquids. He wasn’t sure whether to feel disappointed or not: of course any scientist involved in this nonsense was of the mad variety.

Then he saw the room’s only inhabitant. What kind of budget did these people have? And what was the motivation, anyway? And was that cybernetic, or some bizarre kind of animal cruelty?