Mr.Harvestspell led the junior investigators into the large empty house. It was so dimly lit that for a moment they stumbled a bit trying to find their host in the dim light of the foyer and hallway. But soon light came into view as they entered the living room with the windows wide opened. This house so far was rather finely furnished and had expensive looking furniture. But all of the furniture looked dusty and old, and parts of the wallpaper had peeled off from the walls in some corners. Cobwebs draped the candles and other knickknacks in the room.

Above the fireplace sat a portrait of a younger Mr.Harvestspell and a woman at his side. At first they thought it must've been another man, but upon seeing the facial features, they were shocked to see it was the same man. The man they now saw must've aged a lot faster than the portrait. The woman in the painting was the same woman who was reading on the couch in the living room.

Mrs.Harvestspell was thin and gaunt, and she had on a dress of black mourning on. Her pinched bony face stared at Casey and Matias with such a disapproving stare that made Casey's heart sink a little.

"Dear. Who are these gentlemen?" She asked coldly, looking back to her book, never once putting it down.

"These men, dear, have come all the way from London to help with our...problem" he said after a moments hesitation, as if the mere thought of saying what the actual problem was in front of her would cause a fit of temper.

Either way, it did do something to that affect. She quickly shot a glance back at the three men and stood up.

"Nonsense! Bradford, how many times must I tell you! There is nothing going on in this house! And I find you utterly mad to believe in such superstitious babble!" And after shooting another glare at Casey and Matias, she excused herself on the matters of tending to her sewing.

Once she had gone, the thick, awkward atmosphere lifted from the room and Casey sighed a little.

"I see she must have quite the temper."

And their host nodded. "Unfortunately so. She's been this way ever since twenty years ago, only a year after our marriage. I beg your pardon, gentlemen. But it has been rather a hard couple of years here for us. And I'm afraid it has soured her disposition."

And here they took seats in some chairs near the fireplace. Matias, reaching into his small pouch he had on him, took out a small recording machine.

"Now Mr.Harvestspell, we would like to ask you a couple questions before we search the house, that way we have some record of the case for our office. If that's alright with you, i hope," he said, setting the machine onto the small table between his and Casey's chair.

Mr.Harvestspell nodded his consent, and with that, Matias turned it on and spoke aloud, "September 25th, 1880. Matias Barrington speaking, with my partner Casey O'Daly. Here we are interviewing Mr. Bradford Harvestspell in regards to his problem about his house. Mr.Harvestspell, what can you tell us about the history of this house?"

"Well", their host began, "this house was built by my great grandfather back in the late 1700s and was bequeathed to me in a will by my father. I had taken residence here about some thirty years ago, but twenty one years ago, I had met and fallen in love with my now wife Mary. Mary and I were soon married and she had moved into this house with me. Before the first year of our marriage was over, there had nothing been ever documented or seen that would be deemed strange or unusual in this house."

"And what is it that you see now, Mr.Harvestspell?" Casey asked.

"It is..it is hard to talk about it but I'll try..." their host replied rather hesitantly. "In the third story of the house, there is a large hallway of bedrooms that was used for guests in the house whenever we had family visit. But since twenty years ago one Autumn night, every night around the same time, about half past midnight, I can hear strange noises."

"What kind of noises?"

"Very..very frightening noises..first, I always hear two thuds, as if something heavy, or two heavy somethings, fall to the floor. Then I hear footsteps stomp down the passage away to the stairs, and while I hear the footsteps, something is always dragging heavy chains. And..I've-I've read enough stories of the occult to know that gh-" and here, he hesitated to say the word.

"Ghosts?" Matias asked, finishing the word.

"Y-yes..I-I know that g..ghosts are known to drag heavy chains through haunted houses late at night. The first time it happened, I thought it was just my fancy. But after a week of these noises repeating, I knew I couldn't doubt my senses any further. The footsteps and heavy dragging always going to the stairs, to the second floor, where our room is located. And down the stairs again to the west wing of the building and towards the basement. And that's when it stops."

"And, have you ever seen what has been causing these noises?" Casey asked.

"No..I've always heard it. But after a year of these nocturnal noises, I asked my wife if she had noticed these noises. But she's always told me no. And called me mad for believing in tales of ghosts. And for a while I thought she was right. I figured it was just the old house itself causing the noises. But then...after three years of these continual thudding, footsteps and dragging..something else started to happen..I heard...moans."

"Moans, Mr.Harvestspell?" Matias inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-yes. Moans. Moans from some poor soul in agony. But what made me more fearful of this unseen specter was that I heard two voices moaning in agony and in unison. Every night, while the footsteps stomped and the chains dragged; ghastly moans and groans of agony and pain rang through the hall upstairs and then to my hall and then all the way down to the basement."

"Have there been any other residents that have died here in this house before you took ownership?" Casey asked.

"No. In fact I don't think anyone in my family has died in this house. They've either died in other places or hospitals. But yet I still hear them, you see.. those terrible groans of pain and misery every night. I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in over twenty years. And my own wife does not believe me and calls me insane."

And here the words of their host bean to tremble as he softly broke down a little. They let him compose himself when he was ready to speak again.

"Would you say that the third story hallway is where it always starts?" Matias asked, writing all this down on a little notepad.

"Yes..that I am certain. I've even pinpointed which room it comes from before entering the hall. But these noises have been racking my brain for twenty years. And it got so bad that no servant or gardener would ever stay in the servants quarters. They're too afraid. I am sure at least one of them have seen something I didn't, but I could not tell you where they are now. And that is why I'm afraid the house and yard looks the way it is today, for it has taken shape of my own depression."

With that, Matias turned off the machine and cleared his throat. "Thank you Mr.Harvestspell. Your story intrigues us and I can say for certain that you are not mad and what you are experiencing is very real. My partner and I have also experienced paranormal activity before in our past, and we will make certain to find out what entity dwells here, and rid the house of the evil."

And Casey nodded in agreement. Their host sighed deeply and wiped a tear away from his eyes. "Bless you both..you are more than welcome to stay as long as you need to do your research. Might I give you a room?"

"Yes actually," Matias said, putting the machine away. "We would like to occupy the room on the third floor where you hear the sounds."

Casey and Mr.Harvestspell both blinked in surprise.

"We will?" Casey asked, rather unnerved at the thought of spending the night in a haunted room.

"Of course! It'll be where we set up camp and can track whatever is haunting the house. I have reason to believe that those noises are a sign of some form of communication with the living. And we will figure what this ghost is trying to say." Matias said with a courageous smile.

"Well, if you insist, I will show you the room. And then I'll get your bags from your coach," their host said, rising to his feet. With a swift motion, he lead them to the foyer again and to the main stairs up the haunted third floor hallway.