Many would think young people like me wander into dilapidated houses like this as a dare, an animal stealing my things, or just plain old stupidity.

But not me.

I came here on my own volition, knowing quite well what lay inside. I was, assuredly, haunted by a sense of dread, but I had something to do. You see, I’m a detective. Well, a self-proclaimed one, but still, a detective. However, I don’t deal in your average theft or missing person case. I find my own cases, and solve them. What cases you may ask? I guess you’ll have to wait and see.

One hundred years this house had been abandoned, a fact clearly obvious by the peeling wood and the plants holding them captive. I treaded on the porch and prepared to knock. Many of these places look uninhabited, but I can’t even begin to tell you how many homeless people I’ve found in them. They were not happy to meet me. But it seemed there would be no need for formalities, as the light tap of my fist upon the door caused it to fall over. Oops.

No matter. I continued my investigation, keeping a loose grip on my pistol. I would not be so stupid to go in with a sword or any weapon like that. Last time I checked, it was easier to dispatch a foe with a gun than a blade. Plus, I can’t be trusted with a sword on more stealthy missions like this. I’d probably go around yelling, “For honor! For glory!” or something like that.

But I digress. I continued through the dark and decrepit hallways with caution, ready to get my hands dirty if need be. It seems whoever lived here last was in a hurry to leave. I found a few ornate boxes decorated with some semi-precious stones and a gold trim. Even though the wood had been rotting for who knows how long, I can tell it was a fine and expensive set of drawers. There was a couple more of gold items, a few I wouldn’t mind taking in as “evidence.” Alas, there is no honor among thieves, so I continued on my way to search the property. I was get close to something, I could feel it. Literally.

I felt a chill rise through the room, turning in the once-pleasant fall breeze into winter gusts. I heard something crack, and then another. The mirrors were shattering, along with what remained of the windows. Here’s who I was looking for.

“Greetings Madame,” I said cordially, “I was wondering if I could have a nice friendly chat with you.”

Leave this place, human, a voice in my head hissed. You shall never know the truth.

I had no idea how to converse with telepathy, so I just replied aloud, “Well, what do you think of the weather? A bit for warm for autumn, don’t you-“

Silence! It hissed. I am not in the mood for your idiotic pandering. I am willing to spare you, but my mercy will run out. I suggest you get away from here before it does.

“Look, I’m not here to harm anyone. You’re not the first spirit I’ve dealt with. I know how you think, act, and behave. I’m not scared of you.”

There were two lies in that statement, you fool…

Dammit.

You are brave, you exasperating dolt. But that shall by your undoing.

That’s never a good sign.

Exactly.

She wasn’t kidding. All around me, demons had risen. I think people called them “Illagers” or something along those lines. I was also told they had different types, but I didn’t pay attention. The only important facts I needed to know right now is that they are very good at keeping those axes they’ve got very, very sharp. They seemed to have problems wielding them though, as the heavy arcs of their swings made them quite slow. I ducked under all their slashing and bashing, quick to put a bullet in each one as soon as I got the chance. Needless to say, this battle didn’t last long. But the Madame was not finished.

It seemed this spirit knew the old adage, “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” Not good news for me. She materialized before me, a ghastly vision from a time long lost. Her eyes were a milky white, greatly contrasting with the dark rings around her eyes. Her skin was a sickly gray, looking as if were to fall off her bones at any moment. Her white dress fluttered in the non-existent gale-force winds of the room, with no feet to even touch the ground. But the most terrifying thing about her was all the blood that stained her clothes. It was still pouring from her mouth as she spat, spewing her blood all over herself with a disgusting grin on her face. I almost gagged.

Prepare to meet your maker, Lionel Duff Angelo Fontaine, she growled.

“Really?” I inquired. “My full name? C’mon man, it’s rude to go through someone’s personal information. I’m not looking through your-“

Enough of this incessant rambling! Just prepare to die, you vexing snag!”

“Not in the mood,” I huffed. That was not a lie, but an understatement. Still, I knew what I was doing. I rushed down the hallway and into the foyer, almost tripping on the fading red carpet. She tried to charge me as clambered up the stairs.

Come back here, you fiend!

No way, Jose. I had a mission to do. I ducked into several rooms looking for it, but I still couldn’t find it. A lot of the rooms had these weird things in them like giant chicken statues, lava in a case, one with a random chunk of obsidian in it, just- I don’t even know where to begin. I’ll think about it later when I’m not being hunted by angry specter. Finally, I spotted it. The master bedroom. Now all I had to do was get what I needed without being torn apart by a ghost. Quite the challenge, wouldn’t you say?

You mustn’t know the truth! She screamed. Too bad. I’m sure she heard that thought, as she made a violent lunge toward me, forcing me to fall into a roll in a hope to dodge. She grabbed my heel, tossing me across the room like a doll, slamming me into a wall when she was done playing with me. She was giggling now. Then I got an idea. I tripped over myself in attempt to charge her, falling to the ground in a pitiful heap. She burst out in laughter. I tried to get up again, only to fall down again like the fool she thought I was. She was howling in amusement, so blind in her jeering that she did not notice me grab the knife in the bedside drawer.

“Oh Madame,” I called with a smile. “Looking for this?”

She jerked her head back towards me, only to have her eyes widen in shock. Here lay the murder weapon in the hands of foolish human, with smug grin to irritate her further.

No! She howled, a sense of fear running through her words. It’s not possible.

“Well,” I smirked, “I just did it. And I also figured out the truth.”

I saw her face contort into what looked like a frown, a clear sign of defeat.

“Aw, don’t be like that. I’ve known the truth for a while now. I must say, it isn’t as bad as you think it is.” For once, I didn’t lie.

You see, the Madame of this house was possessed by Nether spirit that her butler and maids had summoned. After forcing her to kill her husband, she was sacrificed and forced to spend eternity as a ghost because of this demon. But I had done a bit more research than that, and knew how to get rid of the pesky thing.

“Madame,” I asked with the utmost respect, “Do you mind if I see your hand for a second? I’m going to try something.”

Okay, she said with a pitiful sigh. I must admit, I was starting to get the feels. But I could hold back my tears for right now. I took the knife and wrapped it in a white cloth to polish it. Surely enough, there was a few bits of blood on it, but I still managed to make it shine like new. I then pulled some of my other tools out: some flame-resistant liquid, some gold string, and a concoction of my own secret recipe. Oh, and this star crystal thing. That was important.

What are you doing? I heard her murmur.

“Just a little tool to help you be free from this curse,” I assured. I poured the flame-resistant fluid over my clothes. Safety first. I took the gold string and tied the crystal to it. The final step was to coat the thing in my potion, careful not to leave any part of it exposed. My demon-banishing weapon was complete.

“Alright,” I said, “I need you to hold my hand or at least try, seeing that you’re a ghost.”

Are you sure this is going to work?

“Well, I can’t be completely sure, but it’s worth a shot.”

She closed her eyes and braced for the final step.

“Okay, this is gonna sting. A lot.” With that, I plunged the knife into her heart, with blue flames erupting from the wound in a great inferno. This is why I always take precautions. Turning back to her, she was writhing with pain, her shrill wails piercing at my own heart. I looked away, not wanting to see the outcome. The roaring of flames fizzled out, and she fell silent. I gulped and turned to see what had happened.

“O…kay,” I said with confusion, “I did not expect this.”

There the Madame lay, her skin now vibrant with life and her hair shining with perfect health. I rushed over to her. She was breathing, and her heart was beating too.

“Ugh…” she muttered, “What happened?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “See for yourself.” I pointed towards the mirror on the wall. Once she looked into it, she jumped back in shock.

“I- I’m human again?”

“Yup.”

She turned to me and smiled. I braced for impact.

“Thank you Mister Fontaine!” she grinned, squeezing me like a teddy bear.

“Ack!” I managed. “Well, if you’d stop crushing me, I’d like to ask you a question.” She cocked her head in confusion as she finally released me from her bear hug.

“What is that?”

“Um, two actually. One, what is your real name, and two, what are you going to do now?”

She heaved a sigh, “I actually have forgotten my name out of grief, and I don’t know where I might go.” Thankfully, I did.

“Well, I need a partner for my detective work, and who better to choose than you, Miss Charlotte Eisenhorn?” She smiled.

“I’d be honored to join you, Mister Fontaine.”

“Alright then. Now, let’s get out of here.”