Chapter 2
Chapter Two
D ash squinted at his computer screen, the lines of code swimming before his eyes. He wasn't a morning person, but he'd gotten up early so he could justify taking an early lunch. It hadn't been the most productive first day. His thoughts kept drifting back to Slate Blackwood and the invitation to visit him and his haunted house.
With a frustrated sigh, he pushed back from his desk and glanced at the clock. 10:45 AM. The fact he'd have to work later to make up for the time almost wiped the smile off his face. Almost. Dash chided himself for feeling excited about what was essentially a tourist trap, but he couldn't deny the interest in the mysterious house's charismatic owner.
As he approached the wrought-iron gates, a chill ran down Dash's spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. The manor looked different in the late morning sun than it had the afternoon before. Now the light hit the front of the house making it less ominous, and more impressive. Its weathered fa?ade seemed to hold countless secrets, and for a moment, Dash could almost believe in the supernatural stories that Slate had hinted at.
Slate was already waiting for him, leaning against the gate with a casual grace that Dash found sexy. Today, he wore a deep burgundy waistcoat over a crisp white shirt, the vintage style somehow looking perfectly natural on him.
"Welcome back, Dash," Slate said, with a grin. "Ready for the grand tour?"
The smile was probably a practiced routine Slate used on visitors, but Dash smiled back despite the butterflies in his stomach. "Lead the way, Ghostbuster. Just don't expect me to believe in any of your hocus pocus."
Slate chuckled and shook his head. "Another non-believer. Blackwood Manor has a way of challenging even the most steadfast skeptics."
As they walked through the manor, Dash was assaulted by a barrage of sensory input. The floorboards creaked ominously underfoot, and the air was thick with the scent of dust, old wood, and something else Dash couldn't quite place but it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Slate regaled him with tales of the manor's history, his voice filled with a passion that was almost contagious. "Blackwood Manor has been in my family for generations," he explained, gesturing to a faded portrait of a stern-looking woman. "That's my great-great-grandmother, Esmerelda Blackwood. She started the haunted house tradition back in the 1920s."
Dash raised an eyebrow, his skepticism warring with his growing curiosity. "So, it's always been a tourist attraction?"
"Not exactly," Slate said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Legend has it that Esmerelda could communicate with spirits. The haunted house began as a way to appease the ghosts and keep them entertained."
Before Dash could scoff at the idea, a loud crash echoed through the hallway. They both spun around to see a suit of armor lying in pieces on the floor, its helmet rolling to a stop at Dash's feet.
"That's... not supposed to happen," Slate muttered, looking genuinely perplexed. Dash watched as he knelt to examine the fallen armor, noting the way Slate's brow furrowed in concentration. It was oddly endearing.
As they continued the tour, Dash had the unshakable feeling they were being watched. Every creak and groan of the old house seemed to follow them, and more than once, Dash could have sworn he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
Slate showed him the various rooms, each designed to elicit a different fear response from visitors. It was impressive, but Dash's analytical mind was more intrigued by the complex systems running behind the scenes.
"This is where the magic happens," Slate said, leading Dash into a control room filled with monitors and equipment. "Or at least, where it's supposed to happen. We've been having some technical difficulties lately."
As if on cue, the lights flickered, and one of the monitors emitted a high-pitched whine before going dark. The room was plunged into an eerie half-light, casting long shadows across Slate's worried face.
Slate ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. "See what I mean? I've had technicians look at it, but no one can figure out what's wrong. It's like the house has a mind of its own sometimes."
Dash found himself moving closer to the equipment, his fingers itching to diagnose the problem. Despite his skepticism about the haunted house concept, he couldn't deny the allure of a good technical challenge. "Have you considered that it might be a software issue rather than hardware?"
"That's actually why I invited you here today." Slate averted his eyes, but tried to keep up his smile. "I was hoping... you might be interested in helping me upgrade the systems?"
Dash knew Slate hadn't asked him over as a date, but it still felt like a gut punch finding out he'd been right. With his hopes squashed, he viewed it as any other job offer. He had no interest in getting sucked into the town's Halloween obsession, but the tech geek in him was interested in finding a solution. The deadlock was broken when Slate looked up, almost pleading for help.
Even knowing Slate was playing him by pretending to flirt, Dash let his little head cast the deciding vote. "I suppose I could take a look," he said, trying to sound reluctant but it didn't quite work.
"Fantastic." Slate's face broke into a dazzling smile, confirming Dash had been played. "I promise, it'll be worth your while. And who knows? Maybe you'll even start to believe in the magic of Oriskany Falls."
Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. Before either of them could react, the door burst open and a petite woman with intricate braids and vintage-inspired clothing rushed toward them. "Slate, you won't believe what I found in the archives!"
She stopped short when she saw Dash, her expression shifting from surprise to keen interest. "Oh, hello! You must be the newcomer everyone's talking about."
Dash flinched at the comment. "How could people be talking about me? I met Slate and the waitress at the diner, and all she did was take my order."
He looked at Slate, but if he'd been gossiping, he didn't show any embarrassment. "It's a small town," Slate said. "People must've seen you move in, or eat at the diner. Don't worry about it. Everyone's friendly."
The answer didn't fully calm Dash's irritation. This was exactly what he feared would happen. He didn't want the whole town knowing his every move. "They talk to each other a lot, it seems."
"Something like that." Slate shrugged and pointed to the woman. "This ball of energy is Olivia Chen. Oriskany Falls’ town historian and my best friend since second grade. Liv, this is Dash Reeves. He might be our technical savior."
Liv shook Dash's hand enthusiastically, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so small. "It's so nice to meet you! How are you finding Oriskany Falls? Has our Halloween spirit won you over yet?"
Given the town's fervent embrace of the holiday and their proclivity for gossip, he didn't want anyone to find out he didn't share their love for October thirty-first. "It's different," Dash said guardedly.
Liv laughed, a tinkling sound that lightened the room's atmosphere. "Oh, you have no idea. Oriskany Falls’ Halloween traditions go back centuries. Did Slate tell you about the ghost of Esmerelda Blackwood? They say she still wanders these halls, making sure the haunted house lives up to her standards."
Dash opened his mouth to express his skepticism, but a cold breeze swept through the room causing him to shiver. The monitors flickered to life, displaying a series of strange symbols before going dark again. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees in an instant.
Slate and Liv exchanged a look that Dash couldn't quite decipher. The mixture of excitement and apprehension made him sure he'd missed something crucial. He was caught between the rational world he understood and the strangeness of the house he couldn't explain.
He was about to back out of his agreement, but Slate's hopeful expression ended that idea. It was too late. He'd told Slate he'd help and he couldn't disappoint him. No, make that he didn't want to be the reason Slate lost his smile.
"I can come by after work tonight." A shiver ran down his spine, as he realized he'd committed to being inside the house after dark.
As if in response, the lights in the control room surged brightly for a moment before plunging them all into darkness, leaving only the faint, ghostly glow of the computer screens. In that moment, surrounded by the enigmatic Slate, the enthusiastic Liv, and the palpable sense of otherworldly presence, Dash realized that his life in Oriskany Falls was going to be far from the quiet, logical existence he had planned.
Oddly, while that should have upset him, he decided it might not be a bad thing.