Horror at the Haunted House Read Online Free PDF Page A

ghost?

Chapter
4
    A s Mrs. Streater had predicted, the Historical Haunted House got plenty of publicity. Hundreds of tickets were presold. Many of Ellen’s friends planned to attend and they all promised to come to the Joan of Arc scene. Caitlin said she would try to come more than once.
    On opening night, the volunteers arrived two hours early, to allow time for a final dress rehearsal. The Historical Society had clearly been busy since the orientation meeting. The outside of the mansion was now shrouded in huge spider webs, making the building look as if the doors had been shut for a hundred years. Eerie music drifted across the grounds. The water in the courtyard fountain was green and slimy and the cherub in the center of the fountain was gone, replaced by an evil-looking sea serpent.
    “I may not have to pretend I’m scared,” Corey said, as they climbed the steps and entered the mansion. The entry hall was transformed. The carved woodwork and somber furniture whichhad seemed so impressive in the sunlight looked melancholy in the gloomy semidarkness. Strange sounds came from every direction: creaking doors, a muffled scream, the whoosh of unseen wings. Small eyes—rats? snakes?—glowed from corners and discordant music drifted down the great carved staircase.
    Corey slipped his hand into Ellen’s. She squeezed it, to reassure him, but she wished she could turn around and leave. Let somebody else stand in this creepy place every night for a week, tied to a stake.
    Just then, the lights went on and Mrs. Whittacker’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “By now, I’m sure you all can see how effective the Historical Haunted House is going to be. The lights will remain on for thirty minutes. All volunteers please take your places.”
    Ellen hurried to the parlor, put on her costume, and climbed to the platform where Joan of Arc would burn at the stake.
    Her rehearsal went smoothly. First a woman from the Historical Society gave her some stage makeup and showed her how to apply it. There was foundation, eye shadow, blush, and lipstick.
    “Without makeup,” the woman explained, “you would look far too pale under the special lights. You’re supposed to be Joan of Arc, not her ghost.”
    The casual remark annoyed Ellen. She did not want to think about ghosts.
    “You may keep the makeup,” the woman went on. “It will be more convenient for you to put it on at home each day before you come.”
    When the makeup woman left, Agnes tied the ropes around Ellen’s ankles, waist and shoulders, turned on the various switches, and watched for a few minutes from the viewing area. Then she turned everything off, untied Ellen, and told her shewas free to do whatever she wanted until she heard the announcement that it was time for all actors to take their places.
    Ellen peeked into Corey’s room. Mighty Mike, wearing a long black robe and a black hood, stood beside the guillotine. Corey lay with his head on a wooden block, grinning gleefully.
    “Should I scream now?” Corey asked.
    “Let’s save the screaming for when we have an audience,” Mighty Mike replied. “We wouldn’t want you to overdo it and lose your voice.”
    Maybe
you
wouldn’t, Ellen thought, but it would be a whole lot more peaceful at home.
    While she waited, Ellen decided to see how she looked with the makeup on. She remembered seeing an ornately framed mirror in the room where the Wedgwood was. She entered the dining room and looked in the large oval mirror which hung just inside the door. She had never worn makeup before and she thought the eye shadow made her eyes seem enormous. She wondered how Corey felt about wearing makeup.
    She left the mirror and wandered over to the Wedgwood display. Some of the older pieces, such as the black basalt, got only quick glances. Mrs. Whittacker said it was old, expensive and highly collectible, but Ellen didn’t think it was particularly pretty. Other pieces, like the creamware, were much more attractive but