Friday, September 25, 2020

VtM: The Ghost In The Basement

"Mister Lewis! Mister Lewis!" 

Alexander Lewis turned as one of the maids came rushing up to him. "I saw him! I saw him again!"

He took a deep breath and sighed, keeping his expression firm and calm. "There is nothing down there, Yasmin. We have looked and looked." 

Yasmin looked stubborn. "It's a ghost! I told you it was a ghost. That's why you didn't find anything. It has to be a ghost, no child that age would be prowling around in someone else's cellars." 

Alexander looked away. There were no such things as ghosts, but Yasmin had come to them from the theater and appeared impervious to reason. "Very well, Yasmin," he said heavily. "I shall come down with you, and we will look again." 

Yasmin shook her head. "I'm not going back down there. Herself doesn't pay me enough to deal with ghosts." 

Fine, he thought. "Then get on with whatever else you're supposed to be doing," he said, and paused. "What were you doing down there anyway?" 

"Oh, Joel asked me to see if we had any more of the lemon-butter sauce left. It seems he's trying to learn to cook." 

Well, that was something else Alexander would have to deal with. He certainly didn't mind the staff trying to expand their skills, but he should have been consulted about anything that might throw off the stores. Or informed that Joel seemed to be angling for a new position in the household, for that matter.

Frowning, he left Yasmin behind and went into the kitchen. 

The kitchen had been a marvel of modern service space, at least until the night of the Mistress' concert two weeks ago. The refrigerator was still missing, of course; the Master and Mistress had yet to schedule a replacement for it. Without it, they were forced to keep the perishables in the larger walk-in downstairs, in the basement, which was haunted. Or at least Yasmin swore it was, and several of the others were at least half-convinced that she was right. Ever since Mister Grant had fainted down there, and had to be carried back upstairs to recover...

Joel was standing beside one gleaming steel counter, with a cutting board beside him. He appeared to be trying to bread a pair of chicken breasts with panko crumbs, and having some moderate success at it. 

"Mister Jackson," said Alexander. "Practicing your cooking?" 

Joel shrugged, self-deprecating. "Trying, anyway. I wouldn't mind moving over to a position as cook or chef or something, if I can get the hang of this." 

Alexander nodded, satisfied; this was the acknowledgement he'd wanted. Evidently Mister Jackson hadn't felt he was far enough along to broach the topic. "Yasmin claims that she saw the ghost again." 

"Yes, I figured when she came rushing through here. I looked downstairs, but... nothing." 

"Naturally," answered Alexander, though he was actually fairly impressed with Mister Jackson's initiative. "Still, I promised that I would look again." 

Joel abandoned his project and came to stand beside him. "I'll come down with you," he said.

"Very well." Alexander started down the stairs, and Joel followed. 

The room at the bottom was large, and despite its clutter it was clearly empty. Alexander crossed the room, navigating between shelves, and opened the door to the refrigerator; then he closed it again and moved to the freezer. Both were empty of ghosts or other intruders, and nothing seemed out of place. He returned to where Mister Jackson stood waiting at the bottom of the stair. "I fear," he said, "that our Yasmin is perhaps too excitable for her position in our household." He flipped off the lights. "I'll have to bring it up to the Mistress when she awakens this evening." 

He turned to march back up the stairs, but Joel stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulders. Slowly, he turned and looked back. 

There, on the far side of the room, he saw a pair of gleaming red eyes. The room was absolutely dark; he could make out nothing of the face or body that must have been there as well. Hesitantly, he reached out for the lightswitch again; but before his hand could reach it, the eyes blinked out and were gone. 

The room was empty again when the lights came on. 

"I see," said Alexander Lewis, very slowly. "I shall have to speak the Mistress about this, and perhaps the Master as well."

Then he turned and fled, and Joel followed close on his heels.

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