Chapter 3 ~Vivaldi~

SO HERE I AM, FEELING like the cat that got the cream as I lap up the rich, honey-like blood. My serpentine tongue savors every sweet drop, like it's the nectar of the gods. I can't get enough, but eventually, the poor guy's body goes limp in my grasp, so I let him drop. His glassy eyes stare up at me, so I gently close them. I'm not a complete monster, you know?

I let out a long, satisfied breath, then hop up onto the bar counter, my gaze sweeping over the rows of glittering bottles. So many choices! I can't decide which one to go for, so I do a little “eeny meeny miny moe” until my fingers land on a fancy-looking bottle of Johnnie Walker. “Aha!” I exclaim. The thick, curvaceous glass and the swirly pattern on the label catch my eye, so I figure, Why the heck not?

I grab the bottle, jump back down to the ground, and crack it open. As I take a long, deep swig, the sweet, bubbly liquid dances on my tongue. I can't help but let out a contented sigh. “Next time, you won't argue with me when I come here for a drink,” I say to the lifeless body on the ground, shaking my head.

As I saunter out of the bar, the taste of blood and Johnnie Walker lingers on my palate.

~~Casper~~

FOR WHAT FEELS LIKE AGES NOW, I've been stuck in this crazy-ass mansion that never seems to age. Seriously, it's like it's frozen in time or something. The furniture, the decor, even the food—it all stays the same, no matter how much time passes.

One day, I took a bite out of an apple and put it back on the table. The next day, I came back, and boom! The apple was whole again, like nothing had ever happened. And don't even get me started on the piano—I smashed the heck out of that thing, but the next day, it's all fixed up and good as new. Even my hair grows back overnight, like some kind of magic shampoo has been applied to it.

The place is like a labyrinth, man. No matter how many doors or windows I go through, I always end up right back where I started. It's like being trapped in an endless loop of fancy wallpaper and antique furniture.

Apparently, some big-shot witch from Shadowvale had put a spell on me and bound me to this mansion. Now I'm stuck here, wandering the halls like a ghost, trying to find a way out. But so far, it's been nothing but dead ends.

So, here I am, day in and day out, just staring out this big, fancy window. I can see people walking by, going about their lives, totally unaware that I'm even here. And who can blame them? This mansion is like some kind of invisible fortress—no one can see it, no one can find it.

I've been watching the world go by for so long; it's like a never-ending history lesson. I've seen civilizations rise and fall, wars waged, and even nuclear bombs go off. But no matter what happens out there, it's like I'm stuck in my own little bubble, completely untouched by it all.

One day, I got so fed up with being trapped here that I tried to end it all—drive a stake right through my heart, vampire-style. But wouldn't you know it? The house's enchantment brought me back to life. Talk about a buzzkill, right?

Still, every day, I find myself standing in front of this damn window, hoping against hope that some kind of miracle will happen. Maybe someone will finally see me, notice the mansion, and come to my rescue. I know it's a long shot, but hey, a guy can dream, right?

~~Winter~~

So, here we are, Scarlett and I, just cruising along on our bikes under the hot sun, the wind whipping through our hair. Everything is just peachy—until it happens. Out of nowhere, my eyes catch sight of this drop-dead gorgeous guy peering out of a massive, fancy-schmancy window in some ancient-looking mansion. It's like time slows down, and I just have to get a better look. I slam on the brakes, and my bike lets out a screech that echoes through the air.

Scarlett, bless her heart, keeps on pedaling away, totally oblivious to my sudden stop. But then she notices I'm not by her side, and she turns around, cycling back to me with this puzzled look on her face. “Why did you stop?” she asks, and I can feel my cheeks heating up.

“What?” she presses, and I bashfully glance back at the window, where Mr. Dreamy is still staring out. But this time, his gaze is fixed on Scarlett, taking in her gorgeous face with this far-off, dreamy expression. I mean, who can blame him?

“It's because of that boy over there,” I say, trying not to giggle. “He's staring at you all dreamy-like, and he's, like, super handsome.”

So Scarlett squints up at the mansion, all confused-like, and says, “Huh?” She has her hand up, trying to block out the sun, but she still can't seem to spot the hottie I'm talking about. Then she gives me this worried look and goes, “Are you alright?”

I'm like, “Yeah, why?” Because, honestly, I'm starting to wonder if she's the one losing it.

Scarlett sighs, clearly not buying it. “Because there's no one there, and there's no mansion!” she exclaims, looking at me like I've grown a second head or something.

“You must be insane to even think so,” she adds, shaking her head. “Come on, let's go before passers-by think we've gone nuts.”

But I grab her hand, 'cause I'm not done yet. “Wait, are you telling me you can't see the mansion?” I ask, totally bewildered as I glance back and forth between her and the mysterious mansion.

“Of course not!” Scarlett shrugs, like it's no big deal. She pulls out her phone and snaps a picture, then shoves it in my face. “Look,” she says.

I take a peek at the screen, and my jaw drops. There's nothing there—just empty space where the mansion should be. It's like it's vanished into thin air or something.

Let me tell you, we're both freaked out at this point, but I can't help but wonder—what's going on with that mysterious mansion, and who's that dreamy guy peering out the window?

“Oh my gosh!” I gasp, feeling a shiver run down my spine. I mean, I'm staring right at this big ol' mansion with buildings on either side, but apparently, it's invisible to everyone else? What the heck is going on?

I cautiously peek back up at the window, and there he is—Mr. Dreamy, still peering down at us. Our eyes lock, and I can't help but feel a mixture of fear and curiosity. I mean, am I losing my marbles? Is this mansion and the hottie upstairs just figments of my imagination?

Just then, the boy slowly raises his hand, like he's underwater or something, and waves at me. It's like he's expecting me to wave back, but I'm totally frozen. My heart is pounding like a drum in my chest.

I can just imagine what people passing by would think if I started waving at thin air. They'd probably assume I've lost my mind, right? So, I'm standing there, debating whether to wave or not, but before I can make up my mind, the boy's face falls. He looks genuinely hurt, like my snubbing really bums him out.

Now, I'm feeling all kinds of guilty, even though I know I shouldn't. I mean, this whole situation is downright bizarre! But still, there's something about that boy—something that makes me want to know more.

So, I'm standing there, watching this gorgeous ghost boy turn away, all dejected-like, and I can't help but feel a twinge of guilt. I mean, who cares what people think, right? If it means having a super cute spirit friend, then so be it!

“Hey!” I yell, waving at him like a lunatic. His face lights up like a Christmas tree, and he lets out this joyful leap, like he's just won the lottery or something. “Hello!” he yells back, his voice as sweet as a summer breeze. “Do you see me?” he asks, gesturing to himself.

Now, I'm a bit hesitant, especially with Scarlett giving me the old “you've lost your marbles” look. But I figure, what the heck, and reply, “Yes, I see you!”

The boy's voice turns urgent and frantic. “Please,” he pleads, “the doorknob of the front door is broken, and it can only be opened from the outside. Could you please help me open it?”

I glance at Scarlett, who is now looking mighty curious. “What did he say?” she asks, and I explain that he's trapped and needs me to open the front door to the building.

“Don't even think about it,” she warns. “You don't want to become a ghost chow, do you?”

“Let's just go, please,” she says, and I can tell she's getting antsy.

But I hesitate, chewing on my lip. I mean, she has a point—I'm the only one who can see this mysterious boy and his mansion. What if it's a trap? If I get caught, nobody will even know where to find me.

So, I take a deep breath and say, “Let's go.” Scarlett gives me this relieved smile, and we get ready to pedal off. But then the boy's voice rings in my head again, all desperate and pleading. “Please, you've got to help me! I'm trapped, and I could starve if I don't find a way out. Everyone just ignores me, but I know you're different. You've got a good heart; don't let your friend stop you from doing what's right.”

I groan, shaking my head and trying to block out his voice. But it just keeps echoing inside my skull, like a broken record: “Please, please…”

Finally, I can't take it anymore. I drop my bicycle and bolt for the door, Scarlett hot on my heels, shouting at me to stop. But I'm a girl on a mission, and before she can grab me, I've got the doorknob in my hand, twisting it open.

The door swings inward with a creak, revealing the interior. I can feel the temperature drop, like I've just stepped into a walk-in freezer, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Scarlett grabs my arm, her eyes wide with fear. “What are you doing?” she hisses. “This is crazy!”

But I'm not listening. All I can think about is that boy, trapped somewhere in this eerie mansion, and how I might be his only chance at freedom. So, with a deep breath, I step over the threshold, and Scarlett, bless her heart, follows me in.

The door slams shut behind us, and we both jump, clutching each other like a couple of scaredy-cats. But there's no turning back now—we're in this together, for better or for worse.