La Porte Qui Grince

"Charlotte! Assurez-vous de lâcher les chiens après mon départ et de faire patrouiller toutes les heures." The last thing Gabrielle needed was intruders deciding to take a tour of the mansion where she and her beloved guest Bella were staying during their travel in Brittany. The head of the Toreador clan in Paris journey both across her bith country and Europe on several occasions per year, but she always ensured that security was taken care of, both for her own sake and for her people. Protective and dangerous by nature, the vampire had trained and sired a fair number of deadly assassins over the centuries, spread between her headquarters in Versailles and her other French houses.

"Bella! Ma chérie! Nous pouvons partir!" She sing-sang in direction of the other brunette who was accompanying her for this investigation. There was no other way to call what they were about to do. The past months had procured several reports of an old manor near La Gacilly, at the edge of the Brocéliande forrest, that had everything of the haunted house. Gabrielle would have probably laughed it off, if it hadn't been persistent and one of her spies hadn't witnessed uncanny events on his own. Not one to shy away from getting her hands dirty, Gabrielle had decided to give it a look. She didn't like the sound of supernatural beings running loose an hour away from one of her places of residency. And if she was honest, she was plain curious and could enjoy a good hunt if there was an opportunity!

The brunette smiled to Charlotte, who would be in charge of the house while she was away, as the blonde handed her a glass of her favorite blood. She had had no time to bring live supplies but Charlotte always ensured stocks were ready to be warmed up. That would do for now and left Gabrielle with replenished strength for the night. "Merci." She said before licking the blood smearing her lips.

Then, she headed out to the garage as the sun was no more, and took place in the driver's seat of her car. As soon as Bella joined her, they would be on their way.

There was no nicely warmed goblet of anything for her. Arabella had enjoyed a nice dinner before arriving at her friends residence. She would need it for the night ahead, if only half of what she had heard regarding the chateau was true. Her information was very reliable. This particular piece of information had been validated by her most trusted source. Just about every haunted house scenario that could be claimed had been included. Reports of figures in windows when no one should be there. Things moving on their own and more.. things violently thrown. Bella was very glad to have her Toreador relation with her, and told her so for at least the third time as she got into her car.

What was it with Toreador's and their cars?

Arabella not only buckled herself in, but tightened the strap considerably. She knew how this was going to go already. "You will remember that, for now at least, my heart still beats? I'm trying to keep it that way a while longer, ma joie."

The night was still young and since they had an hour long drive, Gabrielle had made sure they would have plenty of time to go through that manor. Oh, she didn't like the sound of all the reports she had received, especially the ones through Arebella. It sounded like a good dungeon to keep prisoners and play game with them, but at the same time, the brunette was old fashioned and enjoyed getting extremely hands-on when she had a prey. All French chic would never tame her wild nature. And if anyone was insane enough to harm any of her people and loved ones, she became a monster that would make a vicious werewolf look like a Christmas puppy.

"You will keep your heart beating, ma chérie. Be certain of that. As for whatever we find there? I make no promise."

Vampires, lycanthropes, ghouls... They made for a prominent part of the supernatural circles, but she knew witches existed and frankly, ghosts and spirits could lurk around. And she wouldn't be surprised by other creatures, even rare unique specimen defying rules, lived on this Earth as well.

"Does any of your informants linger around? I told Vincent to keep watch." She spared a glance at Bella and grinned. "I told him a fine bouquet de lys would make no sense as it is exploration night." Vincent, one of her lieutenants, had great fondness for Arabella and had been waiting for the right time to express further interest.

Grinning at her friend, 'Bella tried just enjoy the ride. She had made this trip in the day time before, so she new what she was looking at as the town fell away into more rural roads. The deep blue veil of twilight still gripped the land, which was not yet black with night. It was lovely..

"Vincent should turn his attention to someone nicer. I'll just wind up breaking his heart in the end." Of course she'd had plenty of lovers. She was over two hundred years old. For a ghoul it was common sense to alternate partners, lest she become dangerously obsessed with just one. Anyone who knew Arabella knew who that would be. Other lovers were pleasant distractions, but she belonged to Byron..

"Actually, I have someone meeting us there. A paranormal investigator. He comes highly recommended, but mostly it's his... equipment that I'm interested in." Glancing over at Gabby, she wondered if the Toreador appreciated her double entendre as much as she did when she said it.

Gabrielle knew that Bella's heart was truly meant for one person, but in the meantime, she was all for her friend to enjoy other casual lovers. As for herself, she indulged in carnal pleasures every once in a while, but frankly, it had been a while since someone truly caught her attention and one night stands bore her more than anything. She'd rather flirt her night away and then go home to read a book or get a good - alive - meal than be disappointed by someone who thought that no-string attached could allow them to be mammoths in rut and not take their time to enjoy things.

"Vincent doesn't expect a till death does us part kind of romance. But he still has a thing for you." The brunette simply answered with a grin, before speeding up as there was nobody around and she loved the good roar of the engines.

What her friend said next piqued her interest. "Private investigator, with promising equipment? Oh ma chérie, tu as toute mon attention! Dis-m'en plus!"

Hunter Durand, age thirty-seven, sat behind the wheel of a rented Peugeot 4008 in the unpaved, unlit drive just outside of the supposedly haunted chateau. His hands rested on his thighs, his head tilted down and his crystalline gaze turned up to assess the overgrown exterior of the place through the bug dotted windshield. This was one of the last locations Sarah Durand, his sister, had been rumored to visit before she had been discovered dead; drained of blood and savaged in her hotel room in Paris. Hunter removed his cellphone from his pocket and pulled up the video message she had sent him, scowling contemplatively at the recording as his sister went on to describe the property. She said it felt strange and she'd seen shapes moving beyond the dusty window panes. Paranormal investigation had been her passion and travelling across Europe to visit 'active sites' had been her dream. He'd paid for the trip, encouraged her to go, and now she was gone. But, that was seven years ago and he was still no closer to finding her killer than he had been the day he'd identified her body.

He stopped the recording and returned his phone to his back pocket, wiggling in the plush leather seat of his rental to do so. Removing the keys from the ignition, the doors automatically unlocked and he stepped out onto the dirt path. The earthen scent and docile breeze could not disguise the very unnerving atmosphere of the place. He shut the driver side door and then, with an annoyed quirk of his brow, looked down to discover a giant coffee stain on the front of his white t-shirt. "Shit." He growled, prowling around to the rear of the vehicle and popping the trunk open with a merciless click of the release button on the fob. The internal lights turned on and he shoved the keys into his front pocket, wrenching open the dufle bag reserved for his clothing. His soiled shirt was removed and he rifled through the contents of his suitcase for an adequate replacement, extracting a black shirt in tandem with the sound of an approaching car.

Headlights illuminated his bared, chiseled abdomen as he turned to face the new arrivals. He squinted and wrenched the opening of the shirt over his head, pulling it down across his torso. Then, he brought his hand up to shield his eyes.

Vincent was sweet. That would be delightful, if sweetness was her cup of tea. Glancing into her own reflection in the window, Arabella smiled. Apparently her cup of tea was a spectrum of sexy sullenness, feral rage, enduring patience?

"I'll schedule him an entire evening, on the house, at my club.", she said of poor sweet Vincent.

"Alright! So, this man is rather like one of those ghost hunting shows, I gather. He'll be bound to have all kinds of gadgets, wouldn't you think? Spectral resonance detectors or whatever. I've no idea. I don't watch that drivel! The point is, they have these things!"

Was there a point in there somewhere?

"Secondly, I found him because he claims to know some of the house's most recent activity and he is known in the general paranormal community to be a adamant skeptic."

They were nearing the chateau. Just pulling up in fact, when Arabella concluded. "Last but not least, I saw his picture online and...well.. look." She gestured to what was almost theatrically waiting for them in the stage lights provided by Gabby's vehicle's headlights.

"That sounds like a plan." Gabrielle replied with a soft chuckle. Poor Vincent had a knack to go for women who liked more dangerous kinds of men, but she was done trying to drill some sense into his besotted mind. Learning by doing and trial by fire worked best, and he'd have to go through it like everyone else on this earth.

"I don't watch these shows either. I heard there were some humans into paranormal investigation but I thought it was mostly a fictional character type." She smirked because she had always found humans' fascination with what was beyond them amusing and sometimes annoying. Some had been pests and met their demise over the centuries.

"Skeptic? I already like him." Blind faith wasn't one of Gabrielle's traits and she liked when people shared such approaches.

She took the last turn to get to their destination and it took all her vampire reflexes not to stop the car abruptly as she saw the man in her headlights. "Oh putain!" She muttered as she managed to park casually and precisely. "Je vois ce que tu veux dire. On en mangerait!" He was one of the best looking men she had seen in a while. In the darkness of the car, she licked her lips.

Then, she left the car, all poised again and waited for Bella to do the same, so she could lock the vehicle. She gestured for her friend to go first, since she had been the point of contact with this investigator.

The curious mind might wonder why, exactly, Hunter was willing to entertain a female guest while he went about his investigation. There was nothing truly riveting about the answer, or answers as it was. The property owners did not allow just one person around the residence, requiring some form of accountability from a number of individuals rather than just one. Secondly, activity was said to be more prominent in the presence of female visitors, like his sister. Hunter was, while skeptical, willing to replicate the scenario his sibling had been in as an excuse. Truthfully, he only wanted to look around inside and he'd finally managed to pry the keys from the property manager's previously unyielding clutches. He felt the presence of the ornate brass keys in his pocket, the familiar weight of his FN Five-Seven was holster opposite of that. Besides his clothes dufle, his trunk was brimming with the latest 'ghost hunting' technology the market had to offer. If he was going to use such a ruse to earn his way onto these properties, he had to be legit. He had little else to squander his funds on, anyway.

All starched professionalism, Hunter waited for this evening's companion to exit her vehicle; Arabella Balfour, a woman he had not spoken to directly but one who'd expressed an interest in the area through a third party named Rose; these conversations had transpired via email while he was still in Boston. One brow lofted, the rest of his face composed into a seemingly permanent scowl, when he noticed that there was not one but two women approaching him. Once they were within arm's reach, Hunter extended a hand. "Which of you is Arabella Balfour... and which one of you is the spontaneous tag-along?"

All of the physical composure that bespoke a well-mannered American crumbled beneath his annoyed baritone. Clearly, he wasn't looking forward to entertaining two silly girls looking to be scared witless by whatever entity they hoped to see inside; regardless of how beautiful they both were.

"Oh, please! Do not eat anyone while I'm around.." Bella half-joked before getting out of the car. "I like my plausible deniability when asked what happened."

Mr. Durand's exceptional good looks withered for Arabella a moment later when he opened his mouth. American, of course.

"Peut-être que vous devriez le manger après tout.", she muttered quietly to Gabrielle. Moving forward to place her hand in his, Arabella ignored his blunt manners.

"Mr. Durand. I am Arabella Balfour. This fetching creature with me is my...sister Gabrielle de Montespan." Obviously Arabella was no more French than Mr. Durand. When she spoke, her voice was warm, comforting, and very British - like a lovely cup of Earl Grey.

"She is here because our family has lived in this area for a very long time and she knows much of the local history. I was led to believe you were a man who relied on the facts? Gabrielle will be able to separate the truth from silly superstition.", she informed him crisply.

"I'll do my best to behave and keep my impeccable manners, ma chérie." Gabrielle replied with a coy smile.

Her mood turned sour the moment that bloody American opened his mouth. That was so typical of them thinking they owned the place when they would mix up Charlemagne and Louis the XIV in a damn heartbeat. "Si je ne le cogne pas, ce sera un miracle." She muttered back to Bella, keeping her composure stoic as her friend went to give a handshake to that Durand investigator.

She followed suite, listening to Bella's stern explaination. Then she offered a handshake as well, for it wouldn't be said that she lacked decorum. "Local folkore in Brittany is a way of life and many historians are slitghly too enthused about myths and legends. Arebella mentioned you preferred facts over fiction, much as I do; but maybe we misunderstood." She said curtly.

The extent of Hunter's French consisted of bonjour and a very slowly spoken où sont les toilettes; so, when the two women before him quietly exchanged something in that unfamiliar language, all he could do was loft a petulant brow. His handshake was firm, his crystal blue eyes locking with Arabella's as the exchange of introductions was initiated. His gaze flicked to the fetching creature as she was brought into context, his gaze lingering upon her a bit longer than necessary. Then, he released Arabella's hand while she explained why, exactly, she had brought her sister along. The reasoning she gave was sound. His hand rose again, this time to intercept Gabrielle's, and his grip was no less firm the second time; perhaps lingering longer, though, just as his piercing stare had.

"At least you'll be useful, then." He replied curtly, releasing her hand and cocking a faint, fake smirk in their direction. He about-faced and began rifling through the contents of his rental's trunk once more, extracting a modified go-pro and a voice recorder that he kept on his person. Three flashlights were also removed, along with hand-held radios, and the latest in EMF detectors. "We'll need to get some base readings once inside to establish a norm. The second floor is supposedly a hot spot for activity but the property manager warned me that some of the floorboards in the western wing are moldering. So, we'll need to avoid that area." He gestured to the devices he had laid out, allowing them to take their pick. "Radios are already switched to a shared frequency, in case we get separated; but, I'd recommend against that. Flashlights. If you take an EMF detector, these track energy sources by the way, make sure not to wave it around; the readings won't be accurate." Once they had picked up their devices, Hunter shut the trunk, locked the vehicle, and then took the brass keys from his pocket.

"All right." He flicked on his flashlight once all of his personal devices were activated, the outside area still partially illuminated by the headlights he'd kept on. He'd turn them off with the fob once they got inside. "Ready?"

Before Gabrielle decided eating him right here on the driveway was a good idea, Arabella reached up to lay a hand against her shoulder. Not so much restraining her, as pleading for patience. It was going to be a long night, and they at least needed him to explain how to work the equipment before he wound up becoming her midnight snack.

"Later..", she promised.

Mr. Durand was in over his head, and she would be there when he figured it out. The thought gave her a slow patient smile.

From the back seat of Gabrielle's car, Arabella retrieved her sweater. Firstly because she was almost always cold, but more to the point she wanted the deep pockets it had. After sending a last text, one would hold her silenced phone and the other, one of the EMF detectors, along with a flashlight. Tucking the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, she was ready.

Now that they were about to enter the place, she turned her face up to take in the sight of the old, supposedly haunted, manor. The door was illuminated in the shine of Durand's vehicle's lights. It might have been beautiful, were in not for the prolific tangle of green covering most of the windows. Was it keeping something in, or out? Smirking at her fanciful thoughts, Arabella joined Gabrielle and Mr. Durand at the door, flashlight in hand.

"Oui, ready."

As handsome as annoying, Gabrielle noted about Durand. Damn American always so arrogant but their male specimen could be her weakness. Thank God, Bella hadn't made a joke about that yet. She took in the fine features of that professional, who'd better deliver if he didn't want to add to the unexplainable activity happening in this estate. She returned his firm handshake and the stare. He wasn't the only one looking a tad too long and she hated how she liked it, even when she wanted to strangle him on the spot.

"Hopefully you'll be as well," she retorted with a dark smirk, before making sure to take the right equipment. Her jacket was meant for such things, and her gestures were precise and quick as she got ready. "Always," she replied with a curt nod, indicated to Durand to take the lead, which she hated. Yet, he had the keys, so he could as well use them, even when she would have had no problem to find a way inside on her own, which had been her original plan.

There was an odd tug of her intuition as they closed in on the manor. She had established with disdain how Breton's deep affection for legends annoyed her, but at the same time she knew that there was more to reality than what humans believed it to be.

Once both women had given him the go-ahead, Hunter slipped the brass key designated for the front door into the rusted keyhole and gave it a sharp turn. The lock snicked loudly and stubbornly. Without even trying to tamely open the door, somehow knowing that would only make him look foolish, the detective instead threw his shoulder into it. The wood gave a resounding snap, nothing damaging but the moisture thickened fibers giving way to momentum. From there, the solid oak groaned as it swayed inward and allowed them to step inside the pitch blackness of the chateau. His flashlight was aimed forward, tracing a path down the rug lined foyer and then up an ornate staircase. In the dark, two eyes blinked at him from the second floor before skittering off; undoubtedly belong to a rat who they disturbed with their pronounced arrival. His combat-style boots echoed loudly against the floorboards as he ventured deeper into the entryway, stepping up to a cherry wood hall tree engraved with somber looking angels. He set the EMF reader he carried on the seat of it and left it there to establish a norm for the area.

"So.." He said, his deep voice clambering toward the high ceilings of the foyer. "Where would you ladies like to start first? Basement? Above stairs?" All the while, his eyes never left the minimally fluctuating needle of the EMF reader. Everything was going as expected, so far.

The sound of that aged door groaning open penetrated Arabella's flesh, disturbing her bones with a certain 'nails on a chalkboard' feeling. She was relieved when they entered and the door was once more sealed. Listening to Mr. Durand as he explained the need for base readings and keeping the EMF detector in a fixed position, she moved ahead to place one hand on the carved wooden hand rail leading up the steps to the, half moldering, second floor.

Just as Durand was extolling on the virtues of absolute quiet during EVP sessions, Arabella's now silenced phone chose that moment to light up her pocket, and the foyer. "Merde!" She fumbled with the device, stopping the alarm that had been set to go off just then, a reminder to take the medication that had been prescribed to her during her stay in Chicago.

From the handbag on her shoulder she recovered a pill from a bottle, as well as a small bottled water which she used to take the tablet. "My apologies, Mr. Durand. I had forgotten about that being set. It will not happen again tonight."

Considering the choices, with the slightly carnal look only a proper courtesan could manage, 'Bella tipped her head to the side and smiled. "Oh, we should definitely start at the top and work our way down slowly, oui?

The sound the door made would make a fine instrument of torture, though Gabrielle noted how Durand didn't try to play it smart when that aged piece would have squeaked anyone's tympans to death at some point anyway. Once inside, she kept some attention on the EMF detector she held, but she relied more on her acute senses than it. Of course, she had to keep the charade up that she wasn't vampire but she wasn't going to lower her vampiric guard just to look less intelligent.

She was no witch but she had lived long enough to know that something was amiss in this place. The moment Bella's alarm went off, she cursed too, but in a more colorful and quieter fashion. She briefly freed one of the hand and rested it on her friend's back. She knew what the alarm and the pill were for, but she wasn't going to speak of it in the present company. It was just a tacit way to show her friend she wasn't going to rip her a new one for this alarm incident.

"Bonne idée," she confirmed to the other brunette's suggestion. "If the house crumbles down, we'll have had a chance to explore higher floors." She said that in a very matter-of-fact tone, as if she was used to such things. What could she say? It had happened to her before.

She moved carefully on the staircases, hearing some rattling on the side, probably the same bunch of rats whose eyes they had briefly seen. "Saletés de rongeurs," she muttered.

Hunter Durand was not a jumpy man. So, when the resounding chime of the woman's alarm began to echo throughout the unlit foyer, all he managed was a withering stare in her direction. With a long suffering sigh, the American snatched up the EMF reader and dialed it to a resting status.

"See that it doesn't." He stated gruffly, his gaze falling away from her in disinterest at that carnal look and flicking toward Gabrielle. This time, his inspection of the other woman was brief. Then, he moved toward the staircase the women seemed eager to climb. He was itching to go above stairs, as well; the nursery was a famed hot spot and his sister had scribbled down a great many notes and recorded many voice sessions in the room.

"Very well." He acquiesced smoothly, following behind them with his flashlight trained on the steps they were slowly taking. The old set creaked beneath them and a layer of dust gathered on his fingers that stretched out to find purchase on the wooden handrail. "Reports written on the manor detail three reoccurring apparitions. Two human and one that is said to be demonic in origin. There is supposedly a small child, female, that has been spotted in the gardens and in the nursery that will be up here on the right; there is some audio evidence, it sounds like little girl's laugh, but the source of these files is hardly reliable." He went on the explain as they continued to carefully place their steps.

"Some of the other investigators who have earned access to the estate have brought in small toys and placed them around, only to find them moved at some point during the session. Again, these sources lack credibility."

The look Arabella shot Gabrielle at the imagery of the manor crumbling down around them could only be described as incredulous. It might be all well and fine for Gabby, but her mortal ghost hunting companions would not fair quite so well!

Out of sight of Mr. Durand, Bella stuck her tongue out at her immortal relation impertinently, to match her bad humor. Stepping forward, she began the hike upward through the once beautiful old house, while listening to the information being given to them by Mr. Durand.

On the steps, she paused to turn around, one hand before her to keep the light out of her eyes. "Demonic?"

For a girl who had spend the last centuries in the company of vampires, a little thing like demons probably should not concern Arabella overmuch, yet it clearly did.

Frowning, she kept moving toward the room on the right he had indicated was the nursery. As he had described, other investigators had left behind toys for the purported ghost child. It was more than a little creepy. Rag dolls with tea cups. Stuffed animals in small toy chairs, but no other furniture. Still, she could almost imagine it there. A bassinet before the window. A rocking chair nearby..

Chills ran up her arms.

Gabrielle was well aware that Bella was mortal. While she had great faith in her friend's survival abilities, she would also never hesitate to reveal her immortality if that meant saving her heart-sister's life. She wouldn't let anything happen to Bella when she was around. Fiercely protective barely began to cover the French vampire. She took such things very seriously.

She also grinned mischievously and made a face when her fellow brunette stuck her tongue out at her. Oh, the trouble they were good at getting into together! Bella was also one of the persons who found the inner child in Gabby every now and then;

The brief but enticing look that annoying American gave her wasn't lost on her. Damn, he was already getting on her nerves but the sight of him shirtless had left an interesting first impression on her regardless.

Climbing up the stairs, she felt the dust beneath her fingertips as she moved like a cat to the next floor. Bella's reaction to the mention of demonic presence echoed in her soul. She hated demons. It wasn't that she had never encountered one, but the thought of a demonic child chilled her to the bones. Good thing her heart didn't beat anymore for it would have skipped a beat.

She had complicated relations with children of any kind and the thought of a demonic one wasn't fine at all. The same way, she had always battled against vampires turning children. As much as she understood the need to have offspring, biologically denied to vampires, she found the whole concept of child vampires horrendous.

She kept pressing forward, remaining silent for now, but her mood was sour at this point, with the whole topic of children brought up.

His loosely tied boots alighted upon the rickety floorboards of the second story and he swiveled his flashlight in the direction of the nursery; scanning it across an asymmetrical row of dolls that had been left for the child ghost. His light lingered on one, an Anne doll his sister had purchased at one of the local toy stores to bring with her for the purpose it now served. Without realizing it, Hunter had drawn in a steadying breath and then released it with deliberate slowness as he set off down the window lined corridor.

Hunter continued forward until he was situated in the child's room, placing his EMF reader on a low table just beneath the window which served as the small room's only furnishing. There was a closet, its door slightly ajar, and a great number of shadows on the floor where additional dressers had once rested. "It is said that the child interacts best with females. Perhaps one of you would like to try and make contact?" He asked a bit dubiously, touching a few buttons on the EMF which had completed its initial scan of the room and now awaited any fluctuations.

It did not escape her notice when the light lingered on one doll in particular. It could have been that it was just a familiar object. It was familiar to Arabella as well. Easily purchased online or from any number of stores worldwide. Yet, it seemed the slanted furrows between Mr. Durand's eyebrows deepened at the sight. She said nothing about it, but exchanged a look with Gabrielle.

Children were one of those bittersweet subjects for Arabella. She adored them. Had always wanted, and would never have them. They represented what she had given up for the life she had now. She did not want to do this thing, but would if pressed.

"Gabrielle?" She looked to the other woman to see if she might want the job of first encounter of the evening..

Gabrielle knew that children wasn't the best topic for either Arabella or herself. Her friend was one of the few to know that her one shot at motherhood, with an accidental teenage pregnancy back in the 17th century, had resulted in a miscarriage as well. She had had nightmares about it, doubled with her few encounters with children vampires, who proved to be some of the most dangerous of their kind and being more akin to demonic beings as humans like to portray the supernatural. She shuddered imperceptibly, somewhat annoyed and ironically amused that she could still have placebos to certain very human reactions after a few centuries as a vampire.

"Children reacting better to women. I guess that misogyny never dies," she added dryly. She cared not whether that hot investigator took it the wrong way. As much as she'd get him back to his shirtless state, it would take more than that for her mood to soar again. She'd stay on track though and get this creepy thing over and done with.

"I'll do it," she answered Bella's query. Slightly lifting her chin, she moved further into the room. She walked up to the doll, raising her hand, and her pale fingers briefly brushing against the uneven row of dolls. She hid her anxiety behind her stoic face and began quietly humming an old tune, words slowly escaping her lips.

"Il y a longtemps que je t’aime, jamais je ne t’oublierai..." She stopped at one of the dolls, one that looked older than the others. She carefully picked it up and holding it against her, she quietly walked around the room, finding a spot near a crib. With ethereal grace, she sat on the dusty floor, placing the doll by her side, as her eyes looked around, while she continued singing.

"Chante, rossignol, chante, toi qui as le cœur gai. Tu as le cœur à rire… Moi je l’ai à pleurer."

Hunter's right eyebrow notched and his eyes narrowed into slits of molten silver-blue, his teeth gnashing into his cheek to forestall any rebuttal; one that may have presented itself quickly in the face of her dry quip, were their circumstances more 'of the ordinary'. He turned to the window and stared into the haze-smeared panes. Then, he closed his eyes, listening as Arabella prompted her friend to take point on their little paranormal experiment. Moments later, the woman's songful voice, hushed as it was, began to reverberate through the mostly empty nursery. Certainly, it was the kind of voice that would have lured any child, ghost or no, into a sense of security. The absurdity of the thought prompted a scoff from the American.

Then, a long and spine-chilling squeak cut between her words as the door to the closet began to inch open. "Please refrain from touching anyth-" He turned to look over his shoulder at the culprit, only to find that both women were standing some distance from the closet. His comment died on his tongue and his face lapsed into a mask of pure indifference. Damned drafty houses.

For a moment, even Bella was a little mystified. Her beautiful, timeless Aunt Gabrielle had sung that very song to her as a child. It was a pleasant memory, but one that was so old it felt like another life. She was so involved in the tune that it took her a moment to hear the croak of the closet door swinging open, apparently unaided.

Arabella was not a jumpy sort. A happy outing for her could be described as taking a stroll with monsters through catacombs. Yet, even she did not want to look in the closet. Backing up a step toward the bedroom's door, there was a wince of expectation forming on her face.

The minute Mr. Durand had concluded his assessment of the homes lacking insulation, the closet door slammed fully open, banging against the wall behind it hard enough to damage the paint and plaster. A blast of air accompanied the event, coming fast out from the empty enclosed space - and circling the room before slamming into her and pushing her out into the hall, where the bedroom door likewise slammed shut, closing Gabrielle and Mr. Durand within, and leaving her alone in the hall..

When the closet door swung open, Gabrielle's voice halted at once. Her fingers curled onto the doll instead of dropping it to the floor of the haunted bedroom. Everything happened so fast and yet time stood still. As a vampire, her appreciation of time was different from a human, and certain things in her past also made her sometimes dissociate under certain circumstances. Now was such a case. She registered that Arabella got pushed outside and she heard the door lock her in the bedroom with Durand. She was aware of all of that, and yet she felt almost pulled into that spiral of energy. She felt pulled between different planes of existence, although she knew that many would consider it pure gibberish if not worth of having her consulting doctors. She knew what she experienced.

She stood back up and placed the doll back next to another one. A blonde and a brunette. Two dolls. Two little girls had shared this space a long time ago. They had been close in age, maybe twins, maybe something more complicated but nevertheless family.

She stared at the man on the other side of the room, her tone grave as she spoke, pointing to the two dolls. "One of the little girl is long gone, dead or else. The other one has obviously gone mad."

Not moving from near the dolls, as if fixated to the spot, her gaze wandered towards the locked door, as she called our for her friend. "Bella? Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

Everything happened so quickly. One moment, he was cursing whatever draft had disturbed the closet door and the next, an icy blast swept from within and hurled one of their companions out into hallway. He pivoted sharply, his hand reaching out to her and narrowly missing her wrist. The door slammed and both of his palms impacted upon its surface, fingernails curling into the cracked paint there. Oh so slowly, he dipped his shoulder to one side and cast his gaze upon the woman still in the room with him. Strange that she seemed so unaffected by the goings-on that had just transpired, his brows drew close together in an inquisitive scowl.

Rationality warred with everything that he had felt in that instance. Surely, they were playing some kind of trick on him. In all of his 'investigations', he had never truly felt anything. There was no denying the cold, fear-tinged wind that had assaulted Arabella. No denying this feeling welling up inside him. His sister had been right about this place....

His gaze, the color of which had hardened into slate gray, slid along the length of her finger and landed upon the two dolls she spoke of. Her words surmised his own sister's findings. Of course they did...

Then, he whipped his attention around and reached for the door knob, giving it a hard twist. Icy particulates attached themselves to his fingers and he jerked his hand away, shaking flecks of frost to the ground that had begun to form in the cup of his palm. In the span of a few moments, the entire door was weeping frozen residue.

"You can feel things, as she did. I'll be requiring answers..." Another glance over his shoulder again, his mouth tilting into a bit of an arrogant, lopsided, dimpled smirk that he aimed directly at her.

Then he grabbed the doorknob again and threw his shoulder into the woodwork, slamming the door back open and alighting upon the threshold with his pistol drawn.

For a moment there was no response from Arabella, until.. "Yes. I can hear you.", she confirmed, just not to Gabrielle.

On the other side of the door, Arabella's distinctive high-heeled footsteps moved away from the bedroom door, further down the hall as she spoke to someone, not in the locked room, but in the hall.

With her.

"Wait! Please don't go! Wait!"

When they emerged in the hall, she was gone.

When one had lived as long as Gabrielle, it took more than the eerie and macabre events around them to unsettle one's mind. The vampire's only display of emotions was her need to insure Bella was alright. The interest - stronger than she would be willing to admit - she was developing way too quickly for the human was a whole other matter. The tortured spirit around them would eventually be taken care of, and fretting over it would be of no use. The lost child would have to be put at rest, maybe both children. It was hard to say what had happened, but one of them wasn't around anymore. The one that stayed behind was the maddened one. The vampire sometimes wondered whether her immortality would drive her to become as such after too many centuries had passed, after non-vampire companions would fade into oblivion, though not erased from her pristine memory.

When Durand suddenly stared at her, as she was close to the door again, not taken aback by the cold as he was, she was momentarily brought back to the moment. She mentally scolded herself for finding focus in an arrogant albeit disarming smirk. Something stirred deep within her and she leaned forward, her bright gaze sinking into his gray eyes. "Are you capable of handling those answers?" It sounded like a challenge, but she meant it. Humans loved toying with all sorts of things and ideas, but the reality of vampires and assorted supernatural beings had been overwhelming to a great number of them over history.

When he opened the door, she followed him at once, stepping before him, as soon as she couldn't see Bella. She had heard her speak to someone else moments ago. He was the human with the pistol. She was the Primogen. She didn't experience the cold as humans did, but it almost felt as a trace she could follow.

She stopped on her tracks, pondering which way Bella had gone. "Separer pour mieux regner...." She murmured to herself. "There is one or two spirits here, but we don't know whether another one might have attached to the place. We should stay grouped as much as possible." There was no fear in it. She didn't mean to pet his ego. She hadn't survived all those years without being pragmatic.

Was he capable of handling the answers she had? He had no idea. But, he would have them one way or the other.

She stepped before him and he arched a brow at her, curious as to what her clearly French murmurings could mean. He wasn't wholly convinced there was something supernatural afoot, still banking on this being some ludicrous scheme concocted by these two otherworldly women. But, he could do no more than react to each event as they unfolded. Hunter was going to throttle someone if this was being filmed for purposes of blackmail, however.

We should stay grouped as much as possible.

"Agreed." Nor did he take her sensible words as frail hysterics of a woman afraid. No, he was beginning to see that she was far too experienced and stubborn for such things. His index finger flexed and disarmed the safety on the pistol. "Seeing as how the property manager warned against the other wing, we might try downstairs for your sister, then." He offered, putting the same emphasis on the word Arabella had when first introducing them.

The deserted hallway had already been traversed once that evening by them already. Three steps of footprints lead from the house's central stair in a relatively orderly line to the bedroom, one after the other. In contrast, only one set of small footprints, obviously made by a pair of expensive high heels, lead in a convenient path back down the hall away from the children's bedroom, back toward the stairs. There was no sign of Arabella herself, but it seemed at least they had a path to follow to find where she had gone.

From somewhere on the floor just below, there was the sound of a door creaking open slowly.

And whispering..

Gabrielle's priority was to find Bella. Everything else was secondary at this point. She noted that Durand didn't attempt to argue with her, and actually offered constructive suggestions. She had no time to bicker with him, regardless of how delightful it would be under other circumstances, to which she hoped to get to at a latter point. She moved into the hallway until she saw the footprints on the floor, frowning.

She nodded at Durand. "Allons-y." She caught how he called Bella her sister, noting how attentive he had been at what had transpired in their exchange. It was a solid quality to have. He seemed to know what the heck he was doing, and she could appreciate that, even she he was a pain in the ass most of the times he opened his mouth.

She took some careful but steady steps down the stairs, knowing it might look as if she was crazy to go first, since he was the one with a pistol - whose security she had seem him disarm; but given who and what she was, she was not scared of what might threaten in the confines of the house.

She would find Bella.

Despite the sheer lunacy of their current situation, Hunter could not help but watch Gabrielle with rapt attention. She knew something. There was something about her that had him resolutely deciding that she was not like every other paranormal thrill seeker he encountered in this farce of an occupation. Having been thoroughly immersed in this world because of his sister, he considered himself something of an expert when it came to passing judgment on those truly haunted and the others who merely wanted something more profound to be there. In this instant, he had never been more sure that he was in over his head and that feeling was growing with each step he took down the stairs.

He paused briefly as a door beneath them creaked. Well, at least they knew they were heading in the right direction. Or, the complete wrong direction depending upon what they might be happening upon. He alighted at the landing and turned, his fingers tightening on the pistol grip as sweat began to dampen his palms. Whispers hovered on cold air, had it been this cold outside? He turned slowly, his eyes fastening upon an ajar door, presumably the one that had creaked open moments before. He flicked a glance toward Gabrielle and then moved to open the door wider.

Durand was right to mistrust the ease of the path laid before them. Things beyond both his comprehension and beyond fear of de Montespan's teeth and claws, had taken up residence in the bones of this chateau. As the pair reached the lower landing, above them someone or something ran down the hall. Something that giggled like the playful mischief of a little girl, but when it ran it's audible stomping implied something much much bigger, scratching across the aged wood of the hall above. It ran into the room they had vacated, the children's room, and slammed the door. The giggling transitioned from playful, to deep-toned and horrifying, as it faded away.

In the room before them, there was no light but in the gloom there was the vague shape, also of a little girl.

"Elle est avec lui..", it whispered. It sounded like a warning.

There was nothing in the room. Nothing but covered furniture, and in the center of the room a tiny dress form for sewing children's clothing. Black metal with a pincushion body, but no child..

Humans sometimes came up with the most stupid ideas and idealization of vampires; but as powerful as Gabrielle was, she could still feel powerless. Right now, she was worried she would feel as such. Nobody harmed Bella without paying the price. Quiconque menacait sa soeur perirait de la main de la Primogene. Sadly, when you fought against the undead, killing them was a whole different beast. She wouldn't admit it, but she was worried. Good thing that she had no more heartbeat, that her skin didn't feel like human flesh.

She realized that it was getting colder as she saw the investigator's breath form the most subtle of mist, drawing brief attention to his lips, which she chastised herself to stare at for one too long instant. She followed him into the room. She felt her senses go haywire, knowing that the potent presence seeped deep into the chateau posed an even greater threat than she had expected. She didn't like it at all; but she stilled herself to be present, on alert.

The dark room brought bad memories to play before her mind's eye; but she shall not be vanquished. A de Montespan never conceded defeat against their foes.

She looked up at the excruciating sound that followed the unnatural stomping. That was not a good sign. But her eyes then saw the silhouette, and she heard the voice. She looked at the child's silhouette, and heeded the warning. "Qui est-il?" she asked at once; but it felt that the ghost she had briefly seen was gone.

She moved forward but only emptiness faced her in the room. On a weird whim, she retrieved the pin cushion. As she stepped backward, the floor creaked, shattering the heavy silence. She kept her balance, but nevertheless bumped into Durand.

Hunter shoulder his way into the room behind Gabrielle, his silver-blue eyes darting this way and that way beneath his furrowed brow. The whisper, sounding both child-like and demonic all at once, set off warning klaxons in his brain. The blasted woman had moved further away from him to pick up the discarded pin cushion and he immediately took the follow up steps to bring them closer; just in time to intercept her rearward retreat with the wall of his chest. The weapon lowered just slightly and his free hand skimmed her arm to steady her.

"We need to find Arabella. I have the distinct impression that whatever lingers here is simply toying with us." He ground out, his shoulder turning so he could look back in the direction of the door. "Downstairs." He advised, his hand dropping away and his stride carrying back to the door they had entered through.

There were no more sounds stomping on the floor above. No more girlish laughter, or the disturbing deep toned rumble of a laugh that it had become. No whispers. Nothing.

For a time, all seemed still and quiet, else the energy in the house was otherwise occupied.

Outside the room, their path remained before them. The impressions in the dust of the floor indicated that Arabella's footsteps did indeed lead downward, beyond the room they found themselves in. Deeper in the core of the house. The footprints lead to the basement door, which had been previously padlocked but now hung open wide. The wooden steps seemed sturdy enough, but the smell of damp and mold lingered on the air, as well as the faint scent of a delicate perfume.. The cobwebs hanging like curtains on either side of the steps had been recently parted.

Gabrielle wanted to find Bella above all else. She was going to get her sister and make sure she'd be safe. The Primogen's protective side was in full mode. She felt infuriated, albeit not blinded, to the fact that everything got quieter in the house. The creeping energy that had came all the way to this room had vanished, recessing into other confines of the ancient mansion.

And in the midst of it, Durand briefly distracted her. His brief touch on her arm brought her still as much as it snatched her mind to places she had no want to entertain right then, when Bella's safety was at sake. And yet, she couldn't deny the stir she felt, chastising herself for inwardly reacted that much to him.

"We do. There was something here that did not toy with us. Most of it is, but there's something else," she responded with certainty. She had felt it. She might not know whether the helpful spirit could reappear, but she knew it had been there.

"Allons-y," she growled lowly, her voice menacing albeit not towards him.

As they progressed downstairs, she took everything in. She smelled the perfume as they made their way towards the bottom of the residence. She had a bad feeling about it.

"Ca sent le piege," she muttered almost imperceptibly. She couldn't shake the feeling they were being played.