Lady of the Manor; a Ghost Story

Everyone in this story is over 18, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

So without further ado please enjoy my little ghost story story.

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I was sick of it, just sick of it. I mean I loved my job, I got paid to write about sex for my local newspaper. Seems strange yes but sex sells and not many people wanted to buy the newspaper, so naturally they came up with new tactics to sell it and a sex column seemed to do the trick.

However, my pretentious boss likes to edit my column to make sure that men get maximum pleasure, instead of equal pleasure. Like eating pussy is bad for men or something.

I had a wonderful and I mean wonderful piece on how to perform cunnilingus properly, I even had a little diagram to show where to find the clit (it was tasteful and not a real picture of a pussy) but it still did the job. Even before I added the diagram in, I had multiple men read the column and then point to the location of the elusive clit. I was given good props by the individuals that read the column, some even stating that the spark is back in the bedroom after reading the column.

But of course, he decided he was going to change it to how to suck dick. Even though I have already written multiple pieces on that. I don't know what his deal is, but I'm done having my hard work flushed down the toilet. At the beginning I would write about what he wanted but then it became tedious, it was the same shit, suck dick this way play with his balls that way, how to make him cum.

Heaven, forbid I pitch a story about nipple play for her or him. He called it an abomination that a man would want his nipples played with, who is he to judge or even assume that a man wouldn't want that. God! He was so fucking old school. After seeing my column not show casing my amazing informative piece, I marched my ass right up to him and told him I quit! He just laughed at me and told me I would be back.

"Bitch, please like I need this job," I told him rolling my eyes and I marched out.

Truth was I didn't need the job. My parents left me with plenty of money and investment properties that if I played my cards right, I would never have to work a day in my life. But I enjoyed writing that column. I genuinely felt like I was helping all the poor uninformed people out there that just wanted better sex.

Also, the research was fun, if you know what I mean. I'm not committed to anyone, mainly because I haven't found my person yet, but it doesn't mean I'm celibate either. I'm not ashamed to say that I casually have one-night stands, even though this town has slim picking, I'm still a woman who has needs and over my dead body will I allow anyone to shame me for it.

I felt like I need a new perspective, maybe I will start writing again. Now I just need to get the hell out of this shit town. Colesville wasn't a small town or an unpleasant one, I just didn't want to see or deal with Colesville local newspaper right now I needed to distance myself. Mainly so I wouldn't buy all the newspapers and burn them. Currently I lived in an apartment my parents owned, that I guess I own now, just above a local dress shop. Which was in the center of the hustle and bustle of the town. I just felt like I needed to hibernate away from society like a bear.

I pulled out my laptop and began to search through the list of investment properties. Many of them were rented out except for a few. Clicking on the first one that was uninhabited was a small bungalow that was right on the edge of town. It was cute but the aesthetics were that of an old lady home. If I moved in there I might as well buy ten cats too.

I sighed and continued to browse through the options. I spotted a mini mansion that was about a 40-minute drive from town, it did have a tenant, but that tenant didn't live there, they were more like staff that kept the place spic and span but didn't live on the property. Looks like my parents could never get anyone to rent it out for longer than a month or two. It had an old Victorian spoopy vibe to it that I adored, it was perfect in my opinion. I picked up the phone and called the tenant.

*Ring Ring, Ring Ring*

"To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?" The voice on the other end of the line questioned. From his voice I could tell he was older

"Hello, my name is Rosemary. My parents were Nicholas and Amber Donovan. I am the current owner of this house and was wondering what the state of the house was in?" I asked.

"Greetings Rosemary, I was wondering when I would hear from you, the house is always immaculate for guests. However, I do not recommend permanency as the house is," he paused briefly and then stated, "peculiar."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"It has certain quirks to it, that some may find concerning."

"Like weird noises?" I asked.

"Something like that," he said cryptically.

"Well, if it's just weird noises than I'm sure I will be fine moving into my own property."

"You are the descendant of your parents, I'm sure the house will play nice, when will you be moving in?"

The house will play nice I thought to myself, why would he say something like that?

"I would like to move in immediately, is it furnished?"

"Of course, all original furnishings"

"Great, I will be on my way once I get my clothes packed and a few different things. You don't actually live there correct?" I asked critically.

"Correct, however, I do live about 20 minutes away, in case you need me. Call me before you leave, I will meet you at the house to give you the keys."

"That would be great, thank you, I will call you shortly," I said and hung up.

What a strange encounter. He sounded like an old timey butler; I wonder how long he's maintained the home. I shook my head and stretched my arms above my head in hopes of relieving some stress in my back. With that I scooted out of my chair and went to the bedroom to pack.

An hour and a half later and I had my car loaded up with all my must haves. Starting the car, I began the 40-minute drive to my new home. I will need to call a cleaner to come clean up the apartment before I can put it on the market to rent but that can wait. I turned the stereo on and began to zone out as the drive out of town was a straight shot.

I was starting to think that maybe this place was a bit too far and that it might not be worth the hassle when the radio became staticky, and my GPS tuned on to tell me to take the next left turn. Turning down the dirt road I noticed trees became denser and I could barely see the town through the trees. Ten minutes paced and I pulled up to a large black house with pointed roof peaks with many windows. It looked like it was just built but the style would suggest otherwise.

The records stated that it was over 150 years old and that it had always been in my family, even before my parents built their investment empire. I wonder why we never lived in it. It had to be passed down from generations. Waiting on the porch was an older man with silvery hair and a long beard. He was tall and slender with this wise look in his eyes. He held out a set of keys and jingled them. I ran up to him happily to grab them but before I could he pulled them away.

"Hey!" I whined in protest. A smirk played across his face briefly and then it was gone, and his face became very serious.

"Now I can't in good conscious let you move in without warning you first, this house is different, it's almost like it has a life of its own. Because you are of blood to the original owners it should behave itself but if you are not comfortable you need to move out immediately," he said concern in his eyes.

"I can handle myself thank you very much, the house has character I'm sure considering how old it is, I will be fine" I said as I snatched the keys from the man's hands.

He sighed loudly "Do you want a tour?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, I'm okay, I want to explore it on my own."

"Can I at least assist you in carrying your stuff into the house for you?" he asked tiredly.

"umm....,I suppose it wouldn't hurt," I said as I reached for the door knob.

I felt a shock and prick on my hand. I jerked my hand away and saw it had a small circular pin prick that leaked a small amount of crimson blood. Frustrated I examined the door and was unable to find any protrusions coming from it. Holding my breath, I gripped the knob with a firm grip and twisted with way more force than necessary. I heard a click and the door opened.

I turned to look at the man and he had a strange expression, like relief and weariness combined. Stepping forward I crossed the threshold of the home, as I did the house seemed to shake and this strong sense of comfort washed over me, like I was truly home. Goosebumps prickled down my arm and I could feel the smile broaden on my face. It was perfect, just what my soul needed.

I turned back to the car and realized I didn't even know this man's name that was generously helping me, how rude of me.

I walked up to him and put my hand out "I am rosemary, sorry about the shitty introduction," I said.

He took my hand and shook it "I am Richard. Richard Marscov. I have been caring for this home for many years. I know it inside and out. Please don't hesitate to call if you need anything" he began to walk with me back to my car.

"Thank you, I appreciate the help and how well you have taken care of this home. It looks like it was just built." Reaching the car, I ducked in grabbed some bags and handed them to him.

"You can just set everything in the entryway, and I will sort it out a little later. Thank you again."

"don't thank me just yet miss," he said wearily.

"You really don't like the idea of me living here do you," I said while putting a hand on my hip and glaring at him, "I don't see the problem."

Exasperated he sighed "it's not that I have a problem with you moving in, I have a problem with you enjoying living here. Like I said it's a peculiar house. It will provide what you need, it's just in strange ways."

"Well, all I need is a roof over my head to protect me from that storm that's rolling in" I said as I pointed to the storm clouds rapidly making their way to us.

"Don't complain to me when you learn it's quirks," he said with a frustration.

With that he grabbed a few more bags of my clothes and started for the front door. Such a strange person, he's acting like the house is alive and is going to eat me or something. Rolling my eyes in his direction I too grabbed some stuff and made my way inside. Within minutes we had all my stuff piled up in the entryway of the manor.

"Thanks again Richard for helping me bring things in, I hope you have a good night," I said smiling at the old man.

"You have a good night as well miss Rosemary," the man said with a wink, and he turned to run to his truck as it was now pouring outside.

What the hell was that wink for, that was fucking creepy I thought. Now I need to change these locks because I don't know if I can trust him. I don't give a fuck if he worked for my parents or not. It was only 5 PM and I had so much extra energy, it feels like the right time to hyperfocus on something. I will put my stuff away later.

On my drive up all, I could think about starting my own blog, but truth be told I always wanted to be a writer and I had a few "books" that I have written in the past. Maybe it was the time to edit them and try to see if I could get them published. But before I can start any writing, I need to find my base of operations first.

I wondered about the house and found that it was filled with rooms on rooms. The manor was 3 stories tall, and all the floors had 12' plus ceilings which made the house super big compared to my tiny 5-foot something frame. Eventually I found my favorite bedroom after a good 5-minutes of deliberation between two rooms. They were similar layouts but the one I loved had a huge bay window and a beautiful fireplace. I needed that in my life.

As I walked around my new room touching the furniture I felt like my body buzzed with excitement. I plopped down on the huge four poster bed and found it to be the most comfortable bed I have ever felt in my life. I should have done this sooner I thought. I guess I was too consumed by my old "job" that I was blind to what I had.

I laid down and rested my eyes for a bit. Body melting into the bed, my mind drifted into oblivion. Suddenly I felt a dip in the bed, as if someone was getting on the bed, my eyes shot open to find nothing. What the fuck I know I felt something. I moved my hand across the bed but only felt the silken fabric of the bedspread.

Maybe I'm just hungry or stressed about quitting my job I said aloud as I got up from the bed and headed to the main floor. As I made my way down the large staircase that leads to the front door, I swore I could feel eyes on me. I have been in every room of this house and found nothing.

The only thing that I found was that the house is completely up to date with new technology. It was fully equipped with a security system, central air and electricity. It felt strange because no one lived in here for longer than a month or two, but my parents found it necessary to update the house. They could have just sold the land and probably made a pretty penny. All the surrounding land that was dense with trees was also mine. It seemed like they planted more trees to make it that way.

Stepping on the final step of the stairs I noticed that all my stuff was gone. Frantically I opened the front door and saw nothing out on the deck. I ran to the study to check the cameras that were in the house. I playing back the video I could see all my stuff was there as I walked down the stairs and as soon as my foot touched the bottom step everything disappeared in a blink. From the corner of my eye, I noticed movement on the camera feed from another room. I turned to the small monitor among many and saw my chosen bedroom. In the center, all my belongings were spread out. Immediately I bolted for my room but when I opened the door, my stuff was gone again.

"The fuck is going on!" I yelled throwing my hands up in annoyance.

Instantly I felt a hand softly pull my hand towards the closet. I ripped my hand away from whatever was pulling me and spun around on my heels to get a good view of the whole room looking for whatever that was.

After my heart regulated and my breathing slowed, I checked the closet to see if "IT" went in there. I gasped when I saw all of my clothes were hung up and put away. They were even organized the way I would have done it, by color. I must be tripping. Either that or this is the most amazing house ever.

"Are you fucking with me?" I asked out loud, no answers came but the overwhelming sense of comfort again.

"I'm going to take that as a yes and thank you for that," I said sincerely.

Now I'm not one to automatically think there is magic, but I definitely can't explain what just happened. But what the hell do I do? Call Richard and say hey my clothes disappeared and then magically ended up in my closet colored coordinated? They would ship me off to the closest asylum. Plus, it's not like I feel in danger. I feel like I have known this house my whole life and I don't really think that my clothes being nicely put away was a threat, whatever it was clearly wants me to stay awhile.

There was no point in pondering any longer. With a shrug I decided to get my butt in gear and go edit my story. I need to get out of my sweaty clothes, running up those stairs made me all sticky with sweat, and plus I wanted to be in something more comfortable. I reached in the closet for one of my go to lazy dresses.

I loved the feel of this dress, and it made my boobs look good without a bra and to make it even better, it has pockets. I shed my clothes off and threw my dress over my head. While I pulled my head through, I swore I saw a shadow in the doorway. I gasped and quickly yanked down the dress to cover my body. When I looked back at the doorway there was nothing there.

"You better not be perving on me" I said out loud. I needed to figure out how to draw some boundaries with whom or whatever was lurking about.

Again, there was no response. Maybe there is asbestos or mold in this house and that's why I'm seeing shit I pondered on that for a bit before deciding to call someone in the morning about it, I took that mental note as I made my way back down to the study where I decided I would have my base of operations for writing. Earlier I had set my laptop on the nice wooden desk.

Walking up to the desk I noticed it was on and a word document was on the screen. It was one of my "books" I wrote a few years back. Just above the title of the story I could see the words Edited with a green checkmark next to it. There is no way that story was already edited. I haven't touched that story since a wrote it and I definitely don't remember editing it. I sat in the large wing back chair, scooted in and got comfortable.

Going through it I noticed that all my grammatical errors had been fixed and my side notes that had the suggested fixes were already done. What the hell, am I doing this shit in my sleep? I sat back in the chair staring at the screen in astonishment. I couldn't believe I had already done this.

I checked the time and it showed 7 pm on my watch. There is no way this could have been done. As I sat starring at the completely edited story a pink sticky note drew my attention. It was next to the landline phone that I'm sure was disconnected. Scribbled in the most elegant cursive it read.

Book pitch meeting at 7:10 PM on zoom. Check

email for zoom link.

- Your M's

Okay I know this sounds weird, but I just feel like I need to go with the flow and follow my instincts. They have never steered me wrong, and they are telling me that I need to follow through. I opened my email, searching through that was an email two emails from the top I read "zoom link" in the subject.

Clicking on it I found it was an email from an up-and-coming publisher who liked the first few chapters of my book and wanted more. Again, I felt that unyielding comforting feeling rest over my whole body and then shortly it dissipated and the anxiety crept in. what if they don't like it after they have read more, or what if it doesn't sell. I never thought this far into how this would go.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I shouted.

I need to calm down, blow off some steam or something. I got up from my chair and started pacing the study room. Next to the couches by the fireplace there was a spherical thing set into a stand. Almost looked like one of those world globes but it was all black. Curiously I reached out to feel the smooth surface of the globe. It felt like stone, or maybe glass, I wasn't too sure. As I rubbed it a smokey fog began to show inside the globe. My eyes getting bigger I moved closer to see what was happening inside when words began to write inside the globe.

Do you wish to stay?

"What? The hell does that mean," I asked aloud. The smoke swirled and new writing began again.

It means what it says, do you wish to stay?

With a huff I said, "This is my house, so yes!"

Are you sure?

"For petes sake, you sound like Richard," I said irritably.

Richard knows us, maybe you should listen to him.

Rolling my eyes I asked if they meant me any harm.

We would never hurt you, maybe trick or treat you,

but never permanently damage.

"That is not comforting at all" I huffed "are you a ghost? Or what?"

Some are some are not.

Astonished, I asked, "There are multiple of you?"

Yes, we are a collective of misfits.

"What does that mean? Misfits?" I demanded.

It means what it says, misfits. a person whose

behavior or attitude sets them apart from others

in an uncomfortably conspicuous way.

"So..... you didn't fit in with the same whatever's?"