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”There’s something dark here, this feeling…it’s definitely not natural. The walls seem to soak up anything negative that happens, a form of sentience...” Before Emory could say any more, the laboured breaths of Zara caught his attention. He turned to look at her and watched as her beautiful face contorted to one of panic and terror. She collapsed to the floor in anguish and agony from the thoughts she was tapped in too. Emory dropped to his knees and cradled the New Zealander girl in his arms in a vain attempt to steady her surroundings. He gripped her tightly and for moment he was transported back a year, to a graveyard in Haiti. Shaking off the memory of days gone past, the Charms master looked down at Zara as she finally came out of her trance.

”The father” She said.

Emory moved his gaze over to Nickie who stood off to the side. ”Wands at the ready” The Welshman drew his pine wand and surveyed the room for any change. A strong smell of clover began to fill the wide room as the door behind them slammed shut. ”What is that? Clover? The hell is going on in this place” Helping Zara to her feet, Emory moved off to look around the room. Over his years as a Regulator, the young man had developed a talent for deduction and finding things that should not be present. Daisy was the true detective though, the woman had a brain like a supercomputer. Her ability to process information was second to none.

Around the Regulators, the walls began to shift as if there was something slithering beneath the paper. The west facing window which was once illuminated by the California sunlight was soon blocked out by darkness. Peering outside, Emory noted that now all he could see was a wall. ”The room moved. Merlin’s beard…”He spoke in a slight state of bemusement. This case was getting more and more interesting by the minute. As if on cue, the door burst open and in ran the young girl, Vespa Barr whom immediately ducked under a table, the fear emanating from her tiny frame palpable in the dimply lit room.

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”Vespa! Baby?” Tina Barr called out into the darkness of the corridor in search of her lost child. She herself felt like she had been walking for hours in spite of it only being a few minutes. She had only ever walked these disturbing corridors once as a child herself…the only visit she ever paid to the house her family owned. She was told she was a direct descendent of Sarah Winchester, though this fact was often criticised by historians. Tina had very little care for the Winchester legacy until the house fell into her ownership. She wanted to keep it open, preserve what was here but Henry, he wanted it gone, he wanted the money for himself, she knew that. In her heart of hearts, with every step she took Tina could feel the darkness growing. ”Vespa! Where are you honey?”

Happening into a bathroom, she glanced into the mirror and her skin paled at the sight of the cloaked image staring back at her. Tina unleashed a blood stirring scream before spinning on her heels and sprinting out of the room. The featureless figure burst forth from the mirror in pursuit, it’s dark robe fluttering behind it. Moving as quickly as her body would allow, Tina hurried towards a winding staircase, darting up its old wooden steps as soon as she reached it. She came to a sudden halt at the top, grabbing the railing in fear as she looked down upon the impossible; an endless drop, that was impossible! She turned again only to be greeted by her pursuer and forced off of the platform. Her body fell for an eternity until finally it hit the kitchen floor hard. Tina’s skull broke open at the back, the blood and brain matter spreading across the floor in an almighty pool of fluid.

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“There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparell'd in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—
Turn wheresoe'er I may,
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more”

He spoke in a whisper from the book on his lap, a single tear falling from his amber eye. He closed the book of poetry and placed it upon the desk in front of him. The Caretaker spent all of his days within the ancient walls of the Mysterium Domum or at least, all the days he could remember. What came before he did not know. At times, during these quite moments of deep reflection that his mind is full but only for a second. Like leaves in the wind, memories envelop him but as just as swiftly as they arrive they depart to places yonder, places that he cannot reach. Getting to his feet, the quiet man moved onwards, taking with him his cleaning brush.

The evidence room was not his favourite room to clean but it was one that must be kept in perfect harmony lest the restless dead come a calling. The Caretaker entered with his brush and first made his way to a large mirror, wiping it down with the cloth from his pocket. Inside was not only his hideous reflection but the image of a family, a mother and two daughters, forever trapped. ”Miss Myrtle you look ravishing today as always. I brought this for the girls” Reaching into his jacket, the Caretaker pulled out a YO-YO and threw it into the mirror where it soon appeared in the child’s hand. ”Miss DeVito brought it back from a trip. I hope they like it” He offered a broken smile, his hand coming up to touch his marble face in bashfulness, which soon turned to repulsion at his own visage. He turned away quickly.

He turned his attention to a small wooden box, wrapped in chains. The dybbuk box was a hell of a case, he remembered Master Barr coming home covered in cuts, bruises and severe lesions after his battle with the demon trapped inside. It was lucky that Master Twycross was there or things would’ve gone terribly wrong. He ran his cloth around the edges, avoiding the chain of silver as he did so lest he suffer a terrible burn.

Robert the Doll stared at the lonely man with his terrifying button eyes, sealed away in his glass case. He was filled to the brim with dark and terrible magic, a monster that forced children to murder for him. A truly haunting case which frayed the edges of even Master Stone.

A child’s imagination can be a terrible thing, especially when that child happens to be a wizard. Glancing at the Dungeons and Dragons board game that sat on a nearby pedestal, the Caretakers eyes were once again filled with tears. He did not remember that particular case or anything before it. The patchwork sheet that was his memory would not allow him to see prior to that day where he awoke in pain, in a pool of blood on a hill in Yorkshire. Fear and terror overwhelmed him, he gripped his brush tight as he hurried from the evidence room, slamming the door shut behind him.

In another room he sat, the only room where he would find company on this day. He looked upon the faces on the wall, moving pictures of Regulators since passed. Thirty spaces had already been taken and with every face he looked upon, his heart would break all over again.

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"We need to get out of here. We need to get out of here now. This is not a drill."

Emory looked at the Kiwi witch and then his gaze switched to Nickie and the child, Vespa a look of sheer terror across her face. His grip on his wand tightened while is free fist tightened. ”We’re not going anywhere. We’re here to do a job and we’re going to do it” The world had a way of breaking people down and Emory unfortunately was one of its victims. A single mindedness had overcome him in the days that followed Daisy’s passing. The unthinkable acts committed by the Regulators had become second nature to him. His unhealthy solution of obliviating his own memories was not helping him become as human as he had hoped. He moved his look back over to Zara and was once again reminded of Daisy of a heart and humility, things he was lacking. Joining Nickie crouched down by the table, Emory looked at young Vespa. ”Listen honey, we’re here to fight some bad guys and we might need your help. You wanna help us fight the monsters?”

Vespa looked up at the man and the woman, taking Nickie’s outstretched hand. ”I’ll help, let’s do this”

”We need to get back to the Bunny and Florian, I have a theory on what we’re dealing with. If I’m right, this thing doesn’t end well”

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Looking in every possible room he could think of, the butler could not find any of his guests. Where on Earth could they have gone? Not again, not all this again. Entering into a bathroom in a rushed panic, the elder statesmen of Winchester House slammed the door shut and sat down on the closed toilet lid. His withered face placed inside his open hands, he attempted to calm his breathing. They were probably all dead, just like the others. Why oh why do such things have to happen? Who was he to question but a loyal and humble servant?

”Mistress?”

Standing to attention, the butler looked to the mirror where a shrouded figure stood starting back. ”But why? Why must it be this way? You are close, so close, we can wait another cycle surely? Mistress?” Placing his wrinkled hand on the mirror, he frantically searched for what was once there but not anymore. ”No. No. No, nononono…NO!” He turned and tried open the door but he could not at first but when he finally did so, his ancient eyes became manic at the sight of a brick wall that sat before him. The way was shut. Dark water burst forth from the sink, bath and toilet and quickly began filling the tiny room. There were no windows, no other routes of escape. He bashed his hands violently against the wall, breaking his knuckles and forcing the blood to come forth from beneath his skin. Within minutes the water had reached his face and the butler struggled to maintain himself. Every breath he tried to take was replaced by the dreadful water filling his lungs. Finally he stopped, resigned to his fate. He allowed himself to sink deep into the black water, vision and life leaving him.

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”BOMBARDA!”

The door flew off of its hinges allowing the quartet to escape the séance room. Vespa held onto to Nickie’s hand tightly, scared but trying to be brave. The house had become dark, unusually so for the time of day it was supposed to be. It seemed like time ran differently in the house. Emory reached for the lightswitch but the power had gone. ”Lumos” with the flick, the tip of his wand would light up. ”Let’s get moving girls”

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