Fall away from this estate

We paused some in that torrid weather, finding solace within a cavity in the hillside where pure water trickled and we were able to drink heavily and go for a swim. Strength slightly renewed, we continued on.

We reached the large abandoned mansion after hiking up that snake of a mountain trail. The journey was long and strange, none of us were sure of our aspirations or of what to do next. Inside, it stretched high, past numerous stories and grandiose furnishings; it looked as if it were still lived in. The centerpiece of the building was fashioned around an old dumbwaiter that consisted of a large, thick wicker basket and some hooks with which to fasten it. It was large enough to be used as (and it sometimes was) an elevator.

Little did we know that the house was haunted. Our apparition was constantly creating mischief, and we feared her greatly, without knowledge of her method nor madness. We knew when she was approaching as the dumbwaiter would fire up and begin moving without any of us having a hand in it. The basket would be open, hooks glistening. The fired torches that lit the walls behind it would flicker and pant as if a subtle breeze continually ate away at them. The lighting in the house would jump about, and spectral chimes could be heard with the cranking of the old engine that turned somewhere in the shadows below.

This ghost was strange. I actually saw her face to face before I left that place. I had figured her to be an aged spirit, withered and horrifying, but she took on the form of a younger woman, complete with flesh and eyes and hair - nowhere did she display any characteristic that would give away her true nature. She acted as if she had similar tastes as I, though this seems ridiculous at best - it was simple phantom trickery, I'm sure, and she was toying with my mind in a ploy to achieve her utmost ambitions. I remember she claimed to like some candy I had brought - Goetze's caramel creams, my favorite.

I think the flash of red in her eyes always gave away her intentions, but her image is forever burned into the recesses of my memory.