(Hey guys, this is just a little teaser for the other story I mentioned — hope you enjoy! Also, I apologize for the pics being dark — they looked fine on my computer at home, but much darker where I am now, so they might be hard to see for some of you. If it’s really bad, let me know and I will lighten them up.)
Good morning, dear readers! You may not remember me, as I haven’t been allowed to divulge my tragic tales to you in quite some time, but my name is Maude Berthiaume, and I’m Mt. Geneva’s ghostly historian. You might also be inclined to call me a “spy” or a “gossip”, and, unsavory as those terms may be, they’re not far off the mark. When one is incorporeal as well as incurably curious, one has precious little else to do with one’s time. Sad, but true! Observing the inhabitants of Mt. Geneva is one of the few pleasures my spectral existence affords.
One of the other pleasures is telling you my stories, but I must take issue with my typist making light of my current situation by calling it a “teaser”. Teaser, indeed! My world was quite shaken up the other night, and it is with utmost seriousness that I now impart this tale to you.
With all of my drifting and floating around Mt. Geneva, it can sometimes be days, perhaps weeks, before I make my way back to Berthiaume Manor to check on the place and make sure no one has disturbed my “resting grounds”. I used to revisit it more often, but I’ve scared away intruders so many times that it has gained quite the reputation for being haunted by a most terrifying ghost, and so it has lain dusty and dormant for many years. That is, until now.
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