You see, as the universe expands, fewer people believe in haunted spirits, or haunted town.

Supposedly, these haunted spirits live in a 300-year-old mansion-well, not exactly living, but you get the idea. But the town and neighbourhood still reek of the fresh white paint from their walls. The mortgage documents remain as crisp as the day they were inked. The only spirits dwelling there now are the moods to decorate the empty walls.

Every day at school, Georgie Herschel, one of those folks who doubts spirits, religion, and his own mom, tries his darndest to charm the new girl, Victoria Pitt. And when I say "new," I mean pretty much everyone in this town is a newcomer. You could almost see the "new kid" tag hanging on their backpacks.

She's the polar opposite of Georgie's wayward compass, a devout Christian with a cross dangling from her slender neck. Georgie's courtship isn't a well-kept secret; it's about as subtle as a freight train. Everyone in the 11th grade knows about it because he makes sure of it! The only thing that remains a secret is her answer about joining him on Halloween party next week. To give him some credit and make him seem less like a stalker, everyone's new in this small Winchendon town, so folks are still trying to unravel each other's secrets.

Like a hopeless romantic, he fixates on the back of Victoria's fiery, curly head, contemplating whether the red hue is natural or from a product of some fancy hair dye. He's rooting for the dye, just because. He should be paying attention to Mr. Collins's class, who's now glaring at him with his slanted eyes, waiting for an answer to the question: "Mr. Herschel, would you mind explaining why the back of Ms. Smith's head seems to be more captivating to you than my meticulously drawn quadratic cone?"

The response "Because your hairless head just can't compete," earns him a one-way ticket to the antiseptic-scented detention class.

Fast forward to the next morning in detention, and here comes Victoria with her fiery hair, immediately stealing Georgie's attention. Her hair exudes energy, but her eyes are filled with anger as she marches toward him. In Georgie's point of view, it looks like she's passionately eager to talk to him.

"Go tell Mr. Smith I have nothing to do with you," she jabs him in the stomach, as she's about as tall as his diaphragm, requiring a bit of extra effort to reach. "Why should I be in detention?"

"Well, he got distracted thanks to you," Mr. Smith makes his grand entrance, waving a piece of paper. "And I need ten students for a special assignment." He brandishes the paper like a prized trophy.

"That's pure bullshit!" Victoria curses, and her fiery hair adds a flourish to the drama.

"And you're cursing at your teacher," he remarks, pulling his chair to the front of the class. "Bureaucracy won't help you now. Sit down like good students, folks."

Victoria marches to the back of the class, and Georgie follows as if he's on a springboard. Detention has been a recurring theme on his report cards since 8th grade, but none have been quite as eventful.

"Let's get this straight, rule breakers," Mr. Smith waves his piece of paper again. "You broke some rules, so you get another set of rules to make up for them."

So, there they all are, the rule-breakers, getting another set of rules as part of their punishment. Mr. Smith unveils the grand plan: a Halloween dance party in a week. It's going to be the school's first event since they kicked off operations in September. You see, this is a new school, and not a lot of students are in the mix just yet.

"A dance party? Like prom? On Halloween?" Georgie inquires, finding the concept bizarre but not entirely objectionable.

Mr. Smith nods but doesn't elaborate; he appears to be the most reluctant person in the detention class.

The football team's star player raises a valid question, "Won't the school smell too much like floor cleaner for Halloween? I've changed schools ten times, and I've never seen locker rooms that pristine." Derek shakes his head as if a clean locker room is a bad idea. And he seems to have a knack for relocating throughout his high school life.

"The headmaster plans to keep the school as clean as long as possible. You guys have all seen the mansion behind the school grounds every morning. I hope there are no OCD folks in this room. Or scaredy-cats."

"Are we even allowed to enter that house?" Georgie, the scaredy-cat, asks. "I swear I saw shadows in there the last few midnights."

Mr. Smith seems to take it lightly, "Probably just some hooligans looking for the ghost of Halloween past. What were you doing outside at midnight, anyway?"

Georgie shrugs. "I'm a teenager bursting with curiosity."

"Good, so you're familiar with the compound."

Actually, Georgie is fibbing; he's never been there before. He thinks he can change the teacher's mind. Not happening!

Mr. Smith goes on, "We've contacted your parents and got permission to take you to the mansion for a little field trip. It seems like all your parents think it's a good form of punishment."

Victoria chimes in with a question, looking a bit concerned, "So, what exactly are we supposed to do there?"

The question is answered the next afternoon after school.

Instead of noticing the grandeur of the 10,000-square-foot mansion, Georgie's attention is drawn to the crows surrounding it. It's like a never-ending Halloween party over here. There's this colossal elm tree, probably around 200 years old, standing beside the mansion, and it's got more crows perched on its branches than leaves in mid-autumn. Despite the broken windows and tattered windowsills, the mansion still oozes grandeur. Georgie's mother is a fan of British soap operas, and this mansion is right out of one. Georgie follows the teacher as they cross the threshold into the decrepit mansion. The school bus driver waits outside to drive them back at 5 p.m.

When Mr. Smith moves his thinning head to the side, Georgie's eyes fall on a colossal 2,000-square-foot living hall. There are grand double staircases leading upstairs, one on each side. The scent inside the place isn't exactly pleasant; it's a mix of pungent paint, mildew, and old wood. It's not overpowering, but it's not the best aroma to have in your house. And there are more crows. They caw and flap around like they're auditioning for a horror movie.

"Perfect for a dance, right?" Mr. Smith smiles widely, extending his arms as though receiving a group hug, ignoring the echoing caws of the crows.

Georgie, not entirely thrilled, adds, "Why a dance, though? This place looks more suitable for a haunted house." This is a question he's been dying to ask since yesterday.

"Didn't you read the form when your mom signed it? Can you even read? Did you spell your own name on the form? You know you left out the 'C' in Herschel, right?" A petite girl named Shelly shakes her head; she's in detention for asking too many questions.

With a shrug, Georgie, being the "whatever" person he is, ignores Shelly and retrieves the form from his pocket. The teacher only glanced at it earlier.

It's clearly stated in bold text that the objective of this school activity is to break the ice, considering the school has only been operating for two months and the number of students is still pretty low. Georgie heard that the 99th student joined just yesterday. He looks over at Victoria, who still has a worried look on her face. He'd love to break some ice with her!

Mr. Smith inhales some dusty cobwebs hanging above him, which leads to a series of coughing fits. After a minute or so, he clears his throat and says, "We won't be here long. An hour a day after school is all you need. You'll be back at your doorstep right before sunset. No need to clean the place; it's as dusty, decaying, and creepy as it needs to be. The crows are welcomed to be a part of the decorations, I suppose. We'll just hang some spiders and pumpkin, and you'll help the electrician guys position the portable lights here and there."

"Whose house is this, anyway? Do we even have permission to enter?" Victoria asks, examining the broken picture frames on the staircase wall.

They're so dusty that the only indication they depict humans is the vague silhouette. The pictures are so old that they resemble black shadows looming over the family members. "Eerie" doesn't even begin to describe them.

Mr. Smith seems to have a story to tell, "This mansion belongs to the headmaster's great-great-grandfather from Ireland. They call it The Connaught Majesty. It's been vacant since the 1800s, but it seems no one can sell the place. His father couldn't sell it, and neither could his father's father."

"Is it too expensive?" another student in the detention group inquires.

Mr. Smith nods, "The mansion is a whopping 10,000 square feet, and the school compound is another 20 acres. Of course, it's expensive. But in America, there are plenty of wealthy folks. However, that's not why people have been hesitant about this property. You see, the whole family that owned it died of cholera right here in this very house."

Collective gasps ripple through the room, but Mr. Smith isn't one to let that linger, "Cholera isn't exactly black magic. It used to be as common as diabetes, and diabetes has taken more lives. You don't get the creeps when you hear someone died of kidney failure, do you? You're supposed to be scared of too much sugar, not deceased people." Mr. Smith glances at Georgie, who's casually sipping on a can of Coke he smuggled in, "I hope you're not stocking up on sugar, Georgie."

The teacher then pulls out a box filled with a hundred life-sized paper bats, "Alright, folks, grab these and stick 'em wherever you think they'll make the place more 'spooktacular.' Just don't venture into the upstairs rooms. Stick to the main area, and make sure I can see you at all times." Mr. Smith opens another box and produces yellow barrier tape, explaining that they'll use it to cordon off the stairs and the rooms leading out of the living room once they're done with the bats.

As the days go by, the group adjusts to the routine in the eerie mansion, adding touches of Halloween here and there. The pumpkins are stacked where they should be, and the bats and other decorations have blended into the surroundings. The subsequent days proceed as normally as they can in an abandoned mansion. But there's something that even Georgie, the self-proclaimed non-believer in the supernatural, can't ignore.

The crows are everywhere. Perched on the banisters, perched on the chandeliers, perched on... well, pretty much everything that stands still. Georgie's no bird expert, but he can't help but feel these birds are unnaturally still.

Georgie's eyes are busier than his hands this week. He spends most of his time watching Victoria to ignore the crows, attempting to engage her in conversation. But Victoria is unusually silent, too silent. He's drawn to her because she's not silent; as a Baptist, she doesn't have the cleanest vocabulary, and he finds her unfiltered language appealing. But she's also pretty, and that's the main reason he's interested.

Georgie stops halfway up the stairs, where Victoria is standing, taking out a flashlight. The area upstairs is even darker than the living room. "You've been fixated on these pictures all week, haven't you?" He slaps a bat onto the illuminated wall next to a large frame featuring a family of ten, their faces barely visible due to dust and age. The pictures are so old that they resemble dark shadows looming over the family members.

"I've been thinking about the shadow. Look. Doesn't it look like a... giant, human crow?"

"Now that you mention it, it kind of does." Georgie nods, but in truth, he can't see it as anything other than a dark, indistinct shadow.

Victoria appears to sense his skepticism. She sighs and continues up the stairs. She crosses the crime scene tape and gazes out of the vertical window at the corridor wall. She does this every day. Georgie asked her the first day, and she claimed to love watching the sunset. The sunset acts as a magnet for her, and the deep woods next to the giant elm tree provide a picturesque backdrop. One of the crows perches on her shoulder. A week ago, she screamed when the crow did that, but today, they seem like companions.

When the bus finally drops Victoria off at the junction of her neighborhood half an hour later, Georgie can't help but notice something that sends a chill down his spine.

A shadow, an eerie silhouette, of a human-like crow, perches on Victoria's shoulders. It's a large figure, twice the size of any bird that's supposed to exist in the natural world.

Despite the surreal and terrifying sight before him, Georgie desperately clings to his sanity. He's always been one to scoff at the idea of ghosts and the supernatural. In a feeble attempt to dismiss the uncanny sight, he berates the tree branches that Victoria walks under, convincing himself that it's just a trick of the setting sun, a figment of his imagination. Fortunately for Georgie, his disbelief in the supernatural provides a sliver of comfort, and he pushes these inexplicable events to the back of his mind, replacing them with thoughts of his Halloween Shinigami costume, neatly laid out on his bed, ready for next evening's festivities.

The next day, the grand mansion, which had only hosted a small group of students and their teacher in the past week, is now transformed to accommodate over a hundred dancing high schoolers and their teachers. Some parents have also decided to join the revelry, their curiosity piqued by the ominous legends that have been circulating through the small city's residents. It's a peculiar mix of people, those who come to enjoy the legends and those who are genuinely worried.

The grandeur of the mansion's architecture, which had been hidden beneath dust and decay, is now brought to life by the flickering of orange and red lights. The dusty dance floor is illuminated in a haunting red glow and man-made fog, creating an atmosphere of foreboding.

Spiders and bats dangle from the ceiling, casting menacing shadows on the walls. Pumpkins, their faces carved with macabre grins, seem to leer at the dancing crowd. The once-silent crows have come to life, perching on banisters and chandeliers, their caws punctuating the music. Georgie, not being a bird expert by any means, can't help but feel that the birds are unusually still despite their caws, given the pulsating beat of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" echoing through the mansion. The mansion now looks like something out of a season that doesn't belong to Halloween but to the darkest of dreams.

Georgie thinks their hard work is paying off.

As the guests continue to dance and celebrate, Georgie takes a moment to savor some ghost-shaped white chocolate cookies. The hunger gnaws at him, but he's still too preoccupied with thoughts of Victoria and the bizarre events he's witnessed recently. His gaze scans the dance floor, trying to locate Victoria amidst the crowd, but he loses sight of her when the lanky headmaster, Mr. Connaught, sweeps his mother into what feels like an endless kinetic dance. Mr. Connaught himself is dressed as Morbius, with fake 'blood' oozing down his muscular chest.

"Really, Mom?" Georgie mutters exasperatedly, though he knows his words won't reach her amidst the din of the dance floor. Ever since his dad passed away, his mother has developed a seemingly insatiable affection for dancing. It's both a healthy release and a source of concern for Georgie, who often finds himself playing the role of the responsible one. Her laughter mingles with the music, and for a moment, she's oblivious to the strange occurrences happening elsewhere in the mansion.

It's become a sort of ritual for Victoria to gravitate towards the pictures on the wall, like a moth drawn to a flame. So all he needs to do is glance at the frames, and he can easily predict where Victoria will be. She'll return to her self-imposed duty every five or ten minutes, her gaze fixed on the shadows within the pictures, as if she's searching for answers in the haunting figures that grace the aged photographs.

As Georgie watches, he can't help but wonder what it is that captivates Victoria about those eerie shadows. Suddenly, an electric shiver races down Georgie's spine, causing the hairs on his body to stand on end. It's as if an otherworldly force has taken hold of him. His gaze is drawn to the very images that Victoria had asked about the day before, those old family portraits that hang on the staircase wall.

And then he sees it. The shadow, the sinister silhouette of a humanlike crow, looms ominously over the family in the portrait. It's a sight that sends a shiver down his spine. He's not entirely sure how he can see it so clearly from his vantage point, a good thirty yards away, while it remains nearly invisible up close. But there it is, as if it's more than just a trick of the light and shadows.

As the partygoers dance and revel, they remain oblivious to the unsettling events that are unfolding on the mansion's upper floor, where the shadows play their own sinister game.

From where he stands, it appears that the shadow not only hovers over the family but now seems to cast its malevolent gaze upon Victoria as well. The shadow appears to be in motion, its form shifting and quivering as if it has a life of its own, dancing in response to the flickering lights throughout the living hall.

In that surreal moment, Georgie is forced to confront the inexplicable. The impossible has become a reality before his eyes. He clings to the belief that it's merely a trick of the light-a silly shadow playing games with his mind. But Georgie knows he's the one who's being silly. He can't dismiss it as a mere trick of the light any longer. Another glance at the portrait, and the shadow remains alive. This can't be a coincidence. It's the same giant crow as the day before, perched menacingly on Victoria's shoulders.

With a flap of its inky wings, the shadow crow seems to beckon Victoria, and she complies. She ascends the staircase with an ethereal grace. It's a sight that defies all reason, and Georgie can only watch in bewildered terror.

His legs seem to move of their own accord as he follows Victoria, stepping over the crime scene tape that explicitly forbids access to the upper floors of the mansion.

And then it happens. A blood-curdling scream pierces the air, shattering the illusion of the Halloween revelry below. The sound is not only heard but felt, sending a chilling shiver through Georgie's entire being. Panic and fear grip him.

"Georgie! Help!" The agonized cry reverberates through the mansion, shattering the festive atmosphere below. Everyone hears it, and it's as if Victoria's desperate plea is amplified through some supernatural microphone. The music abruptly stops, and a hush falls over the crowd. Small murmurs and gasps ripple through the floor, as partygoers try to make sense of the horrifying interruption. Some question whether it's part of a Halloween surprise show, but the growing sense of dread suggests otherwise.

"Georgie!" The cry comes again, now laced with sobbing and despair.

Without hesitation, Georgie races in the direction he last saw Victoria heading, determined to reach her. As he ascends the staircase and enters the second-floor lounge, his heart nearly seizes in his chest. What he initially took for a black wall is revealed to be an assembly of hundreds, if not thousands, of crows. The moonlight filters in through the windows, creating an otherworldly, ghostly illumination, but it's not enough to fully reveal the details of the room. Georgie can't discern what the crows are perching on, but the sense of foreboding deepens.

Victoria sobs, her distress echoing through the room. Georgie swiftly turns to his left and spots her on the balcony. She's framed by the eerie moonlight, with the ancient elm tree looming behind her. The tree's top stretches even higher than the second floor, its gnarled branches invading the mansion like ghostly appendages. More crows are perched there, their presence adding to the surreal spectacle.

Victoria stands on one of the largest branches. It's an image that defies all reason, and Georgie can't comprehend how she's managed to find herself in such a precarious position.

"Victoria," he calls out, his voice quivering with concern. "Let's go downstairs. I'm not exactly cool with dark places, or crows. Why don't you continue the act where the students can see you? I can't believe I missed the discussion about this surprise play."

He's aware that his words sound feeble and are rooted in denial. He knows deep down that this is no act, especially after working alongside Victoria for a week with no mention of a surprise or Halloween play.

Victoria whispers something unintelligible between her sobs, her voice trembling as she continues to stare at the shadowy crow above her.

"Come again?" Georgie pleads, attempting to step forward, but only one leg seems to obey his command and inch forward, while the other feels as though it's become a permanent fixture of the floor.

"It wants me to jump and join the others," Victoria manages to utter, her voice barely more than a whisper, carried away by the chilling winds.

"Huh?" is all that Georgie can muster in response. His throat is dry, and his mind races with a mixture of disbelief and fear.

The shadowy crow above Victoria seems to grow more animated, as if urging her toward an unthinkable choice.

The eerie Halloween music, like a haunting soundtrack, continues to emanate from below, creating an unsettling juxtaposition with the unfolding horror. Footsteps draw nearer, and a group of onlookers emerges from the shadows. Mr. Connaught, Mr. Smith, Georgie's mother, and the members of the detention group all stand behind him, their faces aghast.

Georgie's mother, in particular, seems to have mustered all the wind in her chest, and her scream pierces the air like a banshee's wail.

"What is this?" Mr Connaught asks, looking everywhere.

As the group watches in horror, Victoria takes a fateful step, balancing on the balcony balustrade.

"Victoria, get down!" Georgie finds his voice and summons the courage to act, perhaps fueled by the presence of so many people around him. He darts toward her, his heart racing as he collides with the crows that seem determined to thwart his progress. Their sharp talons sink into his arms, tearing at his Shinigami costume, leaving bloody marks in their wake.

The giant shadow crow perched on Victoria's shoulders suddenly flaps its obsidian wings. Victoria turns to look at Georgie, tears streaming down her pale cheeks.

And then, as if guided by an otherworldly compulsion, she steps off the balcony's balustrade and jumps.

*Based on true events*

Prompt written for Halloween Vault 2023. fright