10380/The Haunted House of Park Ridge

The Haunted House of Park Ridge
Date of Scene:	09 December 2019
Location:	Vernon, Park Ridge
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Flash, Psylocke

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Flash has posed:
Since his transfer to the Metropolis Police Department, Barry Allen has been settling in nicely. He liked the city, the people, and he was able to help out in the big guy's absence. He was still patrolling the Gem Cities, but they were pretty scarce of late. Even his Rogues had told him that it was okay. They'd behave. It wasn't weird to Barry to be on such good terms with his rogues, but every hero he met thought it was downright insane.

But the Rogues weren't evil, not by a long shot. They were generally decent people who had a bad day, had some problems, or were in it for the thrill, for the challenge. It was part of the game. In a roundabout fashion, they were making sure that the Gem Cities were protected by giving the Flash, no pun intended, a run for his money.

But now he was living in Metropolis, and an odd case was brought to him. Seems people thought that a house out in Park Ridge, the Vernon area, was haunted. No one actually expected him to do anything about it. This was one of those; we did the cursory look into it, and threw it on the pile of things we'll get to eventually, like, if ever.

Because most of the people thought it was a joke, and himself believing that if there was anything to it, there would be a mind behind it; the kind that could be picked up by a telepath. Maybe it was a metahuman, mutant, or something like that. He'd invited Betsy along.

The house itself sat atop a hill, it had a hefty property around it, and unbeknownst to Barry, there were local rumours in the community that it had once belong to an alchemist. For now though, it was just an old, dilapidated manor home.

Psylocke has posed:
When the request came through, Betsy was a little bit surprised. A haunted house investigation. It didn't seem like something the police would be involved in. Instead, it seemed like it should be something that they should seek out the Ghostbusters. Did they have a branch in Metropolis? Maybe that was the problem. Location.

At the appointed time, she arrived via shadow. It saved alot of money for a commute. Certainly he could've come to pick her up--literally--but this was just as easy and he was able to save his speed for other things. Like patrolling multiple cities in a day.

She was dressed casually. Jeans, short black boots, a navy blue t-shirt with a brown distressed bomber jacket over the top. Her hair was up in a high ponytail.

"Why in the world are you investigating a haunted house?" she asked.

Flash has posed:
With her knowing his identity, Barry had nothing to hide. It was really liberating. Most of the Justice League didn't even know it. For this, he had chosen to wear blue jeans that were on the darker side, almost black. Above that, he had a white flannel shirt, the last few buttons left undone. It had black and grey tartan pattern to it. Under that, he was wearing a green crew neck t-shirt. His red leather belt had a golden buckle on it. Even if it wasn't immediately obvious, he was getting into the holiday spirit.

Reaching up to run his fingers through that soft blonde hair, which had been growing out, "I don't really know. We got a complaint. Nobody wanted to investigate it, and I thought it might be fun? Ninety-nine times out of hundred, it'll be nothing, but what if it was that one time. You and I both know the kind of world that's out there. Besides, I never did get my ghostbusting badge in the boy scouts. Shall we?"

Psylocke has posed:
"Why not?" One thing about Betsy: She loved a good thrill. A haunted house should be good for an adrenaline rush, some fight or flight moments. Of course, her experience with such things was with the scarefests that popped up at Halloween time. Lot of jump scares generally speaking.

This was supposed to be a real haunted house. In truth, she believed in the paranormal. How could someone living her life in the body of another human being have doubts that there might be ghosts or spirits? It would be laughable for her to draw those lines of disbelief.

Now did she think this one was haunted? Unlikely. Yet she walked toward the front doors, bold as could be, not intimidated by what she might experience. "Is there really a ghostbusting badge in boy scouts now?" Considering she'd never been a scout in the United States, particularly a boy one at that, she had no idea.

Flash has posed:
"Yes, well no, sort of. There was one. Sometime after the Manhattan Crossrip of 2003," which is what the Ghostbusters and the Stay Puft Marshmallow man thing had come to be called, "they added one, but I think too many parents complained about putting their kids in harm's way, so they stopped issuing it." Barry, having been born in 1999, was actually close to the age range where he could have gotten one, but alas, you can't always get what you want. And he was most certainly a boy scout. Some would say he still was one.

The home looked like it had to be well over a hundred years old. It didn't look terribly safe either. But he knew Betsy could handle herself, and he felt he could too. There was a police tape line, someone had gone and checked it out, but likely had done little more than actually tape it off. Once inside, a corridor was before them. Old grey wooden floor boards, peeling paint. It was probably a sight to be held at some point, but those days were long gone.

He tried the light switch, but nothing came on. Then he turned on a flash light, and offered another one to Betsy, "here, you might need this torch." He purposefully used the British term for flash light. There was a door to the left, and at three more to the right. They were looking down a long corridor, and it was hard to see how far it went. Towards the very end of the hallway, it seemed to open up into another room.

Psylocke has posed:
"Thank you." Betsy took the flashlight and flicked it on, turning it to get a look at the surroundings. The fact he tried the lightswitch just proved to her that Barry had hope. She hadn't even reached that way. She figured there was no chance the electricity would be working. Even if it was turned on, this place was in no condition for them to come on without there being a fire hazard.

She walked down that main hall, heading toward the room at the end. For now, she didn't reach out with here telepathy. After all, nothing alive should be here. Telepathy, at least her version of it, didn't work on ghosts.

Flash has posed:
Barry was a positive guy. He'd be a great candidate for the Blue Lantern Corps, if he weren't already the Flash. It was worth a shot, and if you're going to bring the place down in a fire, best do it while you're standing next to the exit, rather than once you're further inside. Even if it didn't work, Barry did make a point of turning it back to the off position, just in case.

Hopeful he may be, but he wasn't stupid. As Betsy reached the larger room, she would find a number of small desks, and a single larger desk, like you might find in a classroom. The northern wall was smooth to the touch, but covered in traces of chalk. It seemed rather than use a blackboard, whoever had taught her had used the wall instead. Pieces of chalk still lay around the larger desk, as well as some damaged books on a variety of subjects, such as maths, history, and physics.

Most of the smaller desks had fallen over, or been knocked over, with a single one still upright. It was facing north, towards the larger desk, and behind it, the chalkboard wall. The east wall curiously contained a lever, and was pointing down. A closer inspection would find that the downward side was marked 'open' and the upward side was marked 'safe'.

As Barry followed her in, he was taking note of it, and asked, "looks like some kind of classroom, except there's a chair for the teacher, but none for the students. Weird." Spotting the lever, he said, "whatever this thing connects to, it's in the open position, and the other one is called safe. Any ideas?" Meanwhile, there were drawers in the larger desk, and a single one in each of the smaller desks.

Psylocke has posed:
As they entered the classroom, Betsy pauses to fan the beam of light around again. "I wouldn't have expected a classroom here. I thought it was a house. Had it been changed to a school at some point?" she asked Barry curiously as she started to walk around teh room. She moved to the north wall, eyeing the chalk marks that were left there then looking to the blackboard. "Odd. Why use the wall?"

At the mention of the lever, she joined Barry there then shrugged. "I haven't the faintest. Why not label it open and closed? Safe is a strange choice of words."

Flash has posed:
"It is," Barry agreed, and pulled out his phone, as well as a device. Did he always carry that with him? Whatever it was, he was using it on the wall and it looked like it was giving him some kind of stud finder, but more advanced. Except the readings he was getting were unusual, much like the rest of the place. "Between open and safe, I think I'd prefer it to be on safe, but at the same time, I'm not really sure I want to touch this thing."

Trying out his nifty little device on a few other things, well, it was dark, he was seeing only by flashlight, and as luck would have it, he ended up walking into the only desk that had been left standing, besides the big teacher's desk. Doing that made the drawer open up, and a piece of paper fluttered out, kicking up some dust. "Hey, what's this?"

While still on the floor, he read, he coughed on the dust, tried to clear his throat, and used the torch to read, "Dear Elizabeth, I hope you'll manage to not fall down again today. Does your knee still hurt? I think he was far too harsh with you yesterday. Would you like to work on our assignments together with me tonight? I think I found a way to sneak out unnoticed so that we can enjoy a walk under the stars tonight. Maybe we can do that after our assignments? Love, Bartholomew" No longer reading the letter, he coughed again on the dust, "okay, that's just eerie."

Psylocke has posed:
"That's very odd." Betsy agrees as she walks over to look at the paper over his shoulder. She's not sure about the lever but she isn't touching it for now. First to get better bearings on where they are.

"Particularly the names. Did you set this up?" she asks him bluntly even as she moves to the desk itself. There, she sits down. After all, it apparently is the desk of Elizabeth, right?

Flash has posed:
Still on the floor, maybe he liked being on the floor. He looked reasonably comfortable there. Barry opened his arms wide, palms visible to her, "feel free to have a have a check around inside there," meaning his mind, "I had nothing to do with this." Getting up, he held out the paper to her. It looked old, weathered, and felt real. He moved to lean against her desk, feeling suddenly nervous that she didn't believe him. It wouldn't be the first time he got into trouble for something he didn't do, and knowing his luck, it wouldn't be the last either.

Psylocke has posed:
"I believe you. Just seemed a huge coincidence." Betsy does not go into his head. Even with invitation, she does try to give people their privacy.

Since nothing strange happened with her in the desk, she took the paper and slipped it back into the drawer it came out of originally. Then she motioned with her flashlight for them to go check the next room.

"Let's see what other surprises they have in store for us. Thus far, odd but I am not convinced of any haunting."

Flash has posed:
Reaching up to scratch his head, "yeah, can't blame you there. Though, when that was written, Bartholomew was probably a bit more common than it is now. Thanks for that one, mom and dad." When he said the word mom, there was a pause. It was a brief, most wouldn't notice it, but yeah, even the thought of her got him a little. He had a bit of a rough experience.

"Sounds like a plan." As they ventured out of the 'classroom' and back into the hallway, suddenly a patch of the floor dropped down, becoming a smooth slide and connecting to another smooth surface. The angle was safe, the kind that would be fun, if it were under different circumstances.

In the dark, with only a couple of torches to give light, it was easy to miss such a thing, though that would have been hard to notice in daylight. The craftsmanship, despite the age, was remarkable. When they landed, they were in a lower room, on the floor.

The eastern wall contained a large table, on which lay the upper torso of a humanoid figure. The lower half was on another nearby table. As if that wasn't strange enough, upon closer inspection, both halves seemed to be composed of hard candy. Tools were left scattered around it, a hammer, a hand saw, some chisels; the kind you'd expect if someone were carving a sculpture, except, this was a strange choice of materials. There was also a book, left open, with a thick dust covering all of it.

The south wall had a built in fireplace, as well as a small cauldron that looked to be made of copper. Were one to dust off the book, it would be titled the Candy Maker's Cookbook, though no author given. The open page described the simple, yet delicate process of melting sugar to make candy. Though there didn't seem to be any sugar in the room.

Having landed atop one another, Barry blushed, "oh, um, yeah..." and tried to disentangle himself in as gentlemanly a fashion as he could muster... except he banged himself against one of the tables as he tried to rise and fell again. The second attempt was much more dignified.

Psylocke has posed:
Since she was leading the way, Betsy was the one to trigger the floor. She went down the slide without a sound but there was a sudden new light in the area. Her right hand blazed a a purple glow of power as she was prepared to psi blade anyone attacking them.

Until Barry landed top her, keeping her from rolling up to her feet. The glow around her hand went off immediately, as she didn't want to zap him by accident.

When he got up, on the second try, Betsy climbed to her feet as well then looked around the room. The sight of the body had her pausing but a moment later she realized it wasn't real. "Someone has an odd sense of humor if they thought that would be a fun treat to serve," she muttered as she flashed the light around the room. She moved to the sculpture then over to the cookbook.

"This is feeling a little too 'Sweeney Todd' for my tastes at the moment. A trap door from the hall into the kitchen?"

Flash has posed:
Barry offered her a hand as she climbed to her feet, "sorry about that," and he began to take a look around, using the torch for light. "I'm actually impressed that it's still, well, good." He sniffed at the upper torso, even if it might look comical, he wanted to smell it. He almost wanted to taste it, but as a forensic scientist, he knew better than to taste something like that with your bare tongue.

He did touch it, wiping some dust away, then dusting his hands clean. "It's... it's peppermint." And it was big, probably a good 6'4" tall if it was ever glued together." And then there was a noise, coming from the door, or somewhere beyond it. It was a squealing noise. And then it was over, replaced by silence. Above them, the trap door had closed in on itself while they were getting up. "Hmm, open or safe. Do you think that lever in the classroom was for the trap door?"

Psylocke has posed:
"Possible but unlikely. We went down that same hallway going in. It may refer to something else though, since we now know the person behind this is a bit...demented." The last word is chosen while she is looking at the peppermint body, cut in two halves.

"We know the school teacher could be harsh and someone liked peppermint. Not a lot to go on so far." She looked down at the cookbook, flipping a few pages then abandoned it to walk over to the fireplace. "See any weird levers or shall we move to the next?"

Flash has posed:
Barry hadn't noticed any levers, "not that I caught." Taking the lead this time, the hallway outside seemed to be a mirror to the one on the floor above. He was careful to check the floors, and ceilings, worried about something similar, but didn't find anything. Heading into one of the rooms, he found that they were covered with shelves.

Each was filled with stone jars with carved labels suggesting the ingrediants, a variety of herbs, spices, salt, and other things, "looks like an a apothecary's store room?" There was also a couple of kegs, bottles of wine, and cheese sealed in wax. The curious thing is that nothing seemed to have decayed. Either it was still being used, despite the dust, or something else was at play.

There was also a large barrel of water. The Flash was renowned for his appetite among the Justice League, but when he took a knife and cut some of a wheel of cheese, giving it a sniff, and then tasting it, he might have shocked Betsy. After chewing, he said, "Brie, and it's delicious."

Psylocke has posed:
A few of the things in the next room made sense. Wine aged. Cheese sealed in wax usually as well. Water would be a problem and she sniffed at it curiously, not sure how it could still be good in this setting. Dust alone getting into it would be a problem, she would think.

"Curiouser and curiouser. This seems to be untouched. Which makes me think someone has been here." Which is when Betsy does use her telepathy for the first time. She scans outward from herself, trying to find it there is anyone in the building besides the two of them. "I'm checking to see if we are alone. Psionically speaking."

Flash has posed:
And then there was the most curious thing yet. She was detecting thoughts from the room they had just come through. Faint, but there. Barry offered some to cheese to Betsy, unaware of her telepathic efforts, and began to look at the wine. Oh yeah, he was a foodie. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. If there's no people here, and no ghosts here, I kind of want to take this. And this. And ooh... okay, get me out of this room Bets before I ransack the place." He was at point holding a bottle of Dom Pérignon 1966, 1982, a Cheval Blanc 1947, and a Screaming Eagle Cabernet 1992.

Psylocke has posed:
"We aren't alone. We need to find our way back upstairs," Betsy said as she turned her thoughts more fully to whomever was up there. Just to get an idea of how many people, who they might be, without delving deep into their psyche.

She glanced over and saw the bottles of while he had. "I would suggest you wait until we find out who owns the property first. If it is for sale, buy it and you get all the items inside as well." Then she was off, looking for stairs.

Flash has posed:
The next room was a kitchen, with a spit stand against the north wall, and had all the usual things a kitchen might have, or at least would have had about 100 years ago. Tables, shelves, pots, pans, skillets, cauldrons, jars, knives, forks, spoons, and other such implements. While the machinery might be new, most cooking implements haven't changed that much. Another curiosity. The metal items showed no sign of rust or tarnish. The wood hadn't rotten. It was all perfectly usable, and yet, seemingly untouched. About the most interesting thing, besides the lack of decay, was that there was currently an injured rat, resting on the floor beneath a table, looking worse for wear. But if it's injured, who, or what hurt it?

Psylocke has posed:
"Awww. The poor thing." Okay, that is not a normal reaction from most people upon seeing a rat. Certainly there were people who had them as pets but most saw them as vermin that should be poisoned and killed. While Betsy wouldn't want them running loose in her house, she could still think they were cute.

She reached out mentally to the animal. It wouldn't be thinking thoughts like a human but she would be able to tell how badly injured it was. If it could be saved, she would be doing so. If it could not, better to not let it suffer.

Flash has posed:
The animal was in pain, but would suffice without medical treatment, providing it was able to get food, shelter, and not be attacked by anything again, though medical treatment would help speed up that recovery. Had Barry tried to examine it, the thing would have attacked. But Betsy, being a telepath, had a bit of a way with animals.

Barry looked over at it, keeping his distance, and tapped his chin a few times. "Give me a couple of minutes." And then he thought better of it, "um, want to come with me?" It was dark, he didn't want to get separated, "I think I can make a sedative from what's in the store room."

Psylocke has posed:
"It's going with us. It'll be alright. Just needs to not get attacked again." And with that, a supermodel picks up a street rat ever so gently and tucks it into the pocket of her jacket. She gave it a little mental command to relax there, so it would be comfortable until they could take care of it properly.

"Go make the sedative or we go upstairs and see who might be part of this madhouse?"

Flash has posed:
When she picked up the injured rat, Barry watched. He did not seem surprised. He loved animals. He used to have a ton of them back on the farm. Though as it slipped into her pocket, something reflected on the light he was shining from the torch. "I think he's got some kind of cute little bracelet around his left forepaw." A closer look would say that its name was Archimedes, or was that property of Archimedes? Most likely that was its name. There was some writing on the back with this home's address on it. As they talked, and made their way back to the store room, Barry would collect the ingredients needed, making a very small dose sedative. He didn't want to accidentally kill it, so he erred on the lower end. If he woke up prematurely, it was better than him not waking up at all.

Psylocke has posed:
"If we find his owner, he'll be returned. If not and I get him back to full health, I probably will change that name," Betsy announces as he works in the kitchen. She pulls the rat out and looks it over more closely, realizing that the coloring is more that of a fancy than a wild rat. She didn't catch that the first time.

When the sedative was ready, she used a piece of cheese to entice the critter to eat. Which it did. Then a big yawn and it curled up on her lap. She tucked him away in her pocket again then motioned for the doorway. "Shall we go see if we can find our host?"

Flash has posed:
The next room contains a work table with a variety of broken glass on it. Some of the shards are on the floor. There's also a desk, two large bookshelves covering the north and eastern walls. Most of the books are strewn about the floor, and many have been damaged by water, or vermin. Perhaps Archimedes has friends. Upon entering, they will hear the sounds of faint whispering, which grows steadily stronger.

Fading from the darkness, an older, distinguished-looking gentleman will partially materialise, looking very much the part of a ghostly apparition. It materialised or appeared between them and the exit, possibly preventing their escape, though can you shadowport or run through a ghost, if that is what this figure is?

It's voice will sound archaic, "I need your help, dear lord and lady, for I am trapped on another plane. I passed through the mirror to escape the monster, but it broke my mirror, and I cannot come back! Repair it, and you will be rewarded." And then he seemed to fade away.

Looking to the table, and the floor, Barry said, "this looks more like glassware? Did you see any mirrors?"