La Porte Qui Grince

[Hunter Durand]

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.

[Arabella Balfour]

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 de Montespan]

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 Durand]

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.

[Arabella Balfour]

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..

[Gabrielle de Montespan]

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?"

[Hunter Durand]

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.

[Arabella Balfour]

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.

[Gabrielle de Montespan]

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.

[Hunter Durand]

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.

[Arabella Balfour]

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 de Montespan]

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.

[Hunter Durand]

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.

[Arabella Balfour]

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..

[Gabrielle de Montespan]

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 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.

[Arabella Balfour]

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 de Montespan]

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.