Shadows of Blackwood: The Haunted Heirloom

Ethan Blackwood lay sprawled on the floor of Blackwood Mansion, a massive 'X' marking his position as he gasped for air. His sudden collapse caught me off guard, and for a moment, fear seized my heart. I rushed over, kneeling beside him and shaking him frantically.

"Nathan, no! You can't die on me! We've barely just begun this venture. How could you leave me to handle all of this on my own?"

Ethan's voice, albeit strained, was very much alive as he murmured, "Quit… acting like I'm dead. Just need to… catch my breath." He didn't move but was breathing heavily. Relief washed over me, and my panic ebbed away. As it did, I realized how utterly drained I was—every muscle in my body screamed with exhaustion. I fumbled in my pocket for a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag, letting the smoke calm my nerves.

Tonight had been a wild ride, the kind of ordeal you only read about in ghost stories or watch in thrillers. But this was real—too real—and I had been part of it. The fear still clung to my mind like cobwebs, even though we had made it through the other side. I leaned back against the wall, allowing the cool night breeze to blow in through the shattered window, refreshing me after the chaos.

Three to five minutes passed. I finally regained some composure and glanced at Ethan, who still lay on the ground, unmoving.

"Hey, man, you might want to get up now. You're looking way too comfortable down there. Kinda reminds me of a guy with really bad hemorrhoids. Not a good look, trust me."

Ethan groaned, "Shut up. I can't move. Help me up!"

I heaved him to his feet, and we staggered towards the exit of Blackwood Mansion like soldiers who had just survived a war. As we reached the mansion's courtyard, the oppressive, eerie atmosphere that had lingered over the place for so long finally lifted. The air seemed lighter, and the estate was no longer cloaked in that strange, gray mist of despair.

I took a deep breath, feeling triumphant. "We did it, man. The ghosts are gone, the mansion's free. No more hauntings. No more wraiths terrorizing anyone."

It was a strange but welcome sense of peace—like I had just completed a great mission. I had faced the paranormal and helped someone. Oddly enough, doing good really did bring an inner sense of joy. I couldn't help but smile.

Ethan, however, had other thoughts. "Why are you standing there grinning like an idiot?" he said, his body still leaning heavily on me for support.

"Take a look at yourself, man," I shot back, laughing. "You're all pale and shaky, like you just crawled out of a horror film. And, trust me, I'm not much better. We're like a couple of ghosts ourselves."

Ethan glanced at me, managing a weak chuckle. "Yeah, you look like crap too. Let's get out of here before anyone sees us."

We finally made it to the massive front gates of Blackwood Mansion. There, parked in the distance, was Nathan Graves' hearse. The car stood as still as a monument under the pale glow of the streetlights. Exhaustion had gotten the best of Ethan though, and he was in no shape to drive. The whole night had taken its toll on both of us, and as much as we wanted to leave, we had no energy left.

"Guess we're walking," I sighed, hoisting Ethan up again.

We limped our way toward the main road, the mansion shrinking behind us like a distant nightmare. After what felt like forever, we finally spotted a taxi idling at the intersection, its yellow and green sign glowing faintly in the night.

"Thank God!" I muttered. I waved frantically at the driver, calling out, "Hey! We need some help over here!"

The driver, smoking a cigarette and listening to a late-night talk show on the radio, turned and looked at us. For a moment, he seemed frozen, his eyes widening as if he had just seen the devil himself. The cigarette fell from his fingers, and without warning, he slammed his foot on the gas, tearing off into the night as if his life depended on it.

I stood there, dumbfounded. "What the hell just happened?"

Ethan smirked weakly. "Probably took one look at us and figured we were zombies. We did just come out of Blackwood Mansion, after all. I'm sure any cabbie would run if they saw two guys like us stumbling out of that cursed place."

I glanced down at myself. The state of us hadn't really registered until now. I was covered in grime and still wearing the dusty blue jacket from the ordeal. Add the fact that we had just crawled out of one of the most notorious haunted houses in the city, and yeah, I'd run too if I were him.

"Alright," I said, resigned to our fate, "I guess we're walking back."

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, we returned to Nathan's hearse. Ethan had regained enough strength to drive, but I was too worn out to even crawl into the passenger seat. We sat down on the curb, sharing a couple of cigarettes, waiting for our energy to return. Once we could move again, we got into the car and headed home.

Neither of us spoke on the drive. The adrenaline had long worn off, leaving only the heavy blanket of exhaustion. When we reached my place, Ethan barely waited for me to get out before speeding off, not even bothering to say goodbye. I watched his tail lights fade into the distance, then dragged myself inside.

Warm light greeted me as I flipped the switch in my living room. I should've felt tired—my body was screaming for rest—but strangely, my mind was wide awake. Something was nagging at me, something I had forgotten. I made myself a cup of instant coffee and stared out the window at the bright full moon. Then it hit me.

Tonight was the night I had agreed to contact Liam Blackwood.

I rushed to the kitchen and filled a basin with water. There were only ten minutes left before the appointed time. Grabbing three sticks of incense, a bowl of rice, and the strange medallion Liam had left me, I set everything up quickly.

Lighting the incense, I focused my thoughts and chanted the incantation Liam had taught me: "Through the Heirloom of Shadows, I summon thee, Liam Blackwood. Come forth and speak."

The water in the basin began to ripple, forming small concentric circles. A swirling vortex appeared in the middle, and soon, the surface of the water became as still as glass. There, staring back at me, was Liam's familiar, smug face.

"Hey, there! Long time no see!" Liam greeted with a wide grin, waving at me through the water's reflection.

"Don't 'Hey there' me!" I snapped, though I struggled to hide a smile. "I solved the case of your haunted mansion. Blackwood Mansion is clear. No more ghosts. I saved a lot of people tonight. That's gotta count for something, right?"

Liam's expression changed, a touch of seriousness creeping in. "You did well. The Wraiths have been taken care of. Rose and her spirit were dragged back to the Underworld for judgment. As for that simpleton who lingered, well, he was given the drink of forgetfulness and sent off to his next life."

I blinked in surprise. "Wait… Rose was actually that bad?"

Liam nodded, his gaze intense. "She had deceived many in life, used her beauty to con families and leave them ruined. But Blackwood Mansion was her biggest score. She manipulated everyone, including my father. She played the long game and planned to kill both him and my half-brother to take the entire estate for herself."

As Liam explained, I began to understand the full depth of her crimes. Rose, the seemingly innocent bride, had orchestrated the tragedy that led to Blackwood Mansion's haunting. She had planned everything, but in the end, her greed had condemned her to a much darker fate.

"Some people are just monsters, even in life," I muttered.