Library of Forgotten Souls

It didn't seem like such a spooky place, she thought. She had heard so many tales of ghosts, rising mists, odd shadow figures, mysterious sounds, but as she stood there beside her car at the edge of the lake looking up the hill towards the fog surrounded mansion, it seemed more like a picturesque monument on a postcard than anything she had heard tell of it. She had loved the city, but her new partner wanted her to go take some photos for her portfolio of real estate photography, as well as decide if this place could warm her heart and soul for their planned getaway vacation home together. He had showed her so many houses, but none of them had felt right to her. None felt like a home away from home, or like the perfect little place to replenish and renew inspiration after a busy year of work. She wanted somewhere she could keep her library of books, and he had told her that this place had a beautiful old style library within it, as well as a tea sitting room, and other perfect features including the lake. Her eyes turned to the lake, where the fog had just seemed to begin to roll over as if it was flowing down the hill and skating on the water. She snapped a picture of the beautiful mist and then of the mansion before her. She got back into her car and continued up the drive to the front door.

There he was waiting for her posed at the door with his arms folded and legs crossed leaning against it. He was surprised to see her driving; she could tell by his expression, and the way he slowly smiled. Usually, she had her purple motorcycle trike, or her antique 1966 Honda motorcycle. She had almost ridden her green 1970 Harley, but decided the car was a better way to travel today. In part, her decision was due to the mist and fog that now seemed to be mysteriously concentrated on solely the lake below. At the door she could see a hawthorn tree, lilac tree, and rose bush that the fog had been obscuring from view. "Right on time," his cheerful, sweet voice called out to her. "I think I will take a minute to photograph the trees before I come inside," she said to him. "I will wait with anticipation," he told her as he took a key out and unlocked the door, stepping inside out of the view of the camera. She didn't know it now, but her pictures would show something different from what she was perceiving with her own eyes.

The fog had started to roll back up the hill, and she stopped a moment to ponder the seeming ebb and flow of the rising and falling fog and mist. It brought with it a chill, so she was happy to follow after her lover into the building. The parlour reminded her of the one she knew as a child from the place where she had grown up. She was happy that this discovery did not bring down her mood, she still felt cheerful. Perhaps, since the entrance had been different the feel and appearance were just different enough. She shrugged all that nonsense and past hurt off and called out for her beloved, "Where did you go?" A voice echoed to her from her left, and she turned to find him wrapping his arms about her, and pulling her close. "Are you chilled?," he asked her. "No, I am all right," she assured him. He led her into what must have been a dining area in years gone by. The room was accented with a mirror on the far wall and a picture sized bay window, that seemed to require some repair. The wallpaper was a faded burgundy. He pointed to the double doors and said, "the kitchen is through there, and to the right of that is the tea room." He led her on through a different door on the same side as the one they had entered down a hall that was marked by about six doors and ended looping to a seventh door. "This is the library," he said to her as he opened the door and held it for her to enter.

Although the books had long been removed from the shelves, there were visible traces of their former presence. The room seemed dusty, but it had obviously been thoroughly cleaned. The library table still sat in the room, pushed up against a wall. She walked over to it, and examined it carefully. It hadn't seen a good polish in a very long time, but appeared to be formally well cared for. She looked around at the large room and then looked up to see that it was her fantasy double story library, and there was a small room off from it that would make the perfect study. Her smile must have been showing, because her thoughts were interrupted by her love saying, "I knew you would love it." Just then a chill caused her to shiver, and she felt like her spine was made of ice. She shrugged it off, and turned to her smiling love to answer him, "I do truly love this place so far, although it seems to need some attention and care." She took out her camera to take a few photos of the beautifully designed architecture of the room, so that she could remember it for future reference. He watched her as she worked and waited patiently for her. She snapped a few shots of the table, and felt his hand on her shoulder, "all done?," he asked her. "Yes," she responded, "Is there anything else you'd like to show me?" He beamed his smile at her and it turned to a devilish grin as his blue eyes sparkled, "I would like to show you the master bedroom. It features its own bath, and a walk in dressing room closet. Would you like to go upstairs?" She smiled back as she thought, this place is too good to be real, a tea room, a library, her fantasy closet, her favorite trees, and just then, she caught her thoughts wandering on without answering her love. "Of course, lead on," she told him.

They walked back to the main entrance and started up the stairs. Soon they found themselves exploring the bedroom, which still had a beautiful double four post bed with canopy. They sat on the bed and started to talk about the practicalities of possibly making this their little getaway to call their own. She loved how detailed the architecture was, and how it seemed to feature everything she could imagine and more, she also loved that it wasn't just a modern sprawling, empty spacious, massive void, but a practically sized home. He seemed to be thrilled that she was liking this place. At one point they both said at the same time, "It is perfect." Then they laughed about that for awhile. He then looked out the window, and exclaimed to her, "We may have to stay awhile, the fog has just gotten very very thick out there." She moved her eyes to the window and realized that she could not see anything outside at all. "I can take some more photos, and if we need to rest, we know this bed is here," she answered him, staying positive about the situation. "I had brought a lunch for us, and left it in the kitchen, so that sounds all right with me," he said to her.

They were pretty sure that it had gotten dark outside, although they could not tell by looking out of the windows. His watch said it was eight, and they sat finishing the food he had brought for them. It wasn't long before they were resting in the bed, hoping that in the morning the fog would be gone. They did not know then just what that fog really was, and what morning would really bring for them.

The sun light woke them, it was bright shining in through the large picture window, but somehow the room had changed. There was now a dresser on the wall, and items on top of it. She looked over at the closet full of clothing, and she actually recognized a few pieces as her own favorite things. She thought maybe she was dreaming. A voice called in to them, "do you want your morning coffee and cocoa made?" They both looked at each other surprised, as they knew they were alone in an empty house. It must be a dream she thought, but if so, I would be waking just now.

They headed downstairs to find everything full of furniture, items that they knew belonged to them, and none of the walls were faded any longer. She looked out the window and saw all three of her motorcycles lined up beside his truck and her car. This is strange, she thought. They walked through the dining room with a prepared breakfast awaiting them toward the library. When they entered the library, she saw that the room she thought would be a good study was a black room for film development. And, the empty library was full of books, she readily recognized some as being her own favorites from home. "Maybe after we eat, and decide if we are dreaming or awake, we can work at developing your photos from the other day," her love suggested. "That seems practical," she said deciding that at some point she would wake, or they would remember what was going on.

The voice that had called to them earlier belonged to a spritely looking red headed girl, who cheerfully served them their breakfast, and they were starting to realize that somehow this was not a dream. There was no fog out the window as the day progressed, and they headed to develop her photos. But, they were soon very surprised by the images. The photo he had stepped out of pictured his smiling face standing in the door way, the photos of the library showed the books, and more surprising were the people posed throughout her images upstairs. "What are you doing in there loves?," echoed the voice from that morning with a knock on the door. "We'll be out in a minute," her love answered. They both just stood there staring at each other for a moment. Then, they exited the room.

"I have tea set, including with your favorite herbal sir, in the tea room," said the spritely girl greeting them as they entered back into the library. Glancing out the window, they still did not see any fog. She then remembered her photos of the fog. "Go ahead, I have a few more photos I'd like to develop first," she said. She worked quickly to discover that the images of the fog were of people, almost as if lost in a sea side by side walking down the hill and back. Some of the blown up images of the faces showed sorrow, horror, and dismay. She took a few with her to show to her love in the tea room.

There he was staring out the window sipping his tea, and shaking his head, when he must have heard her, and turned his gaze her way, but his smile was gone. "There is no fog," he said to her, "the real estate agent said there is always fog." She handed him the photos and said, "these are the images I took of the rolling fog." He just looked at her in horror. "How can this be?," he said to her, "It makes no sense. My truck was not here, the agent had dropped me off. I figured I would ride home with you." Then he lifted the mug he was holding and said, "This is my favorite mug, but I know I did not have it with me. I also know, I am not dreaming." He shook his head and stared at the pictures, and then out the window. She sat beside him, and tried to comfort her love, as she realized they may never leave this place, that seemed to good to be real.

"The tea all right?," the spritely girl asked them popping her head in through the door. "Yes, thank you," she answered her. "I know how shaken folks are when the spirits first cross them over here. You will find everything you love is accounted for, even your cat is resting in the sitting room with your dog. Folks come, and at some point pass or escape, when they do the house ages and empties, until the fog rolls in new souls. I call them the library of forgotten souls, that strange mist that does this to folks. I am a house elf. I have lived here centuries. I always know well the people that are to stay, as if they always have been here. I am truly sorry, I have never found a way to warn anyone, that if the house likes you, and you it, you will never leave."

The End...