Mark began to feel uneasy, being alone in the manor. He felt like being watched like someone was with him in the room he slept in with Irwin. Even though it was daytime, the Rosemary Manor still looked eerie to him. The shadows behind the open doors of the room, beneath the sofa next to the window, behind curtains… Even the unsettling silence was deeply disturbing to Mark. The story of Irwin’s dead uncle had gotten to him. Now that he knew about magic and werewolves, he was profoundly convinced that the manor was haunted. He felt it in his bones.

It wasn’t the first time Mark had an experience with seemingly haunted houses. When he was younger, at the age of fifteen, his father sent him to a boarding school in England after his mother had died. He wasn’t very happy there, being in a new environment with people he didn’t know. What made his experience worst was the fact that the room that was assigned to him at the school’s dormitory was said to be haunted by a boy who had killed himself after being bullied. Being the one sleeping in the haunted room didn’t do any wonders for Mark’s reputation. He got bullied a few times, and the other boys at the school made fun of him… they had already been looking at him weirdly because he was American. Suffice it to say, Mark wasn’t very happy about any of it. 

One night, as he was asleep, he heard a voice whispering his name in his ear. Or so he thought anyway. But something did wake him up, he felt a presence in the room with him. Whatever it was, it went away as quickly as it had happened. Mark had a difficult time returning to sleep after that. The next morning, one of his bullies had been found hanging by the neck in one of the classrooms of the school. It was the young Henry Scotsman, who was known to be Mark’s nemesis at the time. On his body was written: “for you Mark” with blood. In a big bloody letter on the naked chest of the poor Henry Scotsman. Of course, the police got involved and Mark was questioned many times. No proof was ever found to charge him with murder, but Mark knew that all of it was strange. All the boys in the school knew it was strange. They knew that it was the ghost of the haunted room. Mark never really believed in that story but he was sure he had felt something that night before the death of Henry Scotsman. 

After that unfortunate accident, Mark was sent back to North America. He was glad to be sent back. On the other hand, his father wasn’t really happy about what had happened. Their relationship wasn’t the same onward. 

Being in the Rosemary Manor reminded Mark of that strange incident in England. It was the same feeling he felt like something was there with him in the bedroom. Mark tried to lighten the atmosphere by opening the large window on the right side of the bed. A cold breeze blew inside the room, which was weird considering it was summertime. The curtain flew gently under the cold breeze. Mark approached the opened window to look at the blue sky above him. Some clouds were covering the Sun, and a couple of birds singing in a nearby tree. The garden around the manor looked very well maintained, filled with beautiful flowers. The scenery did appease Mark’s anxiety for a few seconds until he felt like someone had put their hand on his left shoulder. Mark jumped right out of his skin. He franticly looked around the room to see who it was but nobody was there with him. He called out Irwin’s name thinking it was his friend trying to spook him with his magic but nobody answered.

Mark decided then to leave and go to a room that was less enclosed. He left the bedroom with strong long strides and was on his way to the kitchen which had way more windows. As he passed through the large hall that led to the front door, he heard a noise coming from the first floor. It was like something had fallen on the floor directly above him. Mark’s common sense told him to not fall for this trick. He knew from horror movies and TV shows that nothing good ever came from investigating a haunted house. Mark knew that very well. However, he now felt a compulsion to go and investigate. He battle with it for a moment but something stronger than himself was calling to him. Mark didn’t want to die, as he was sure he would if he went to the first floor, but the call he felt was just too strong to resist. So Mark took the wide stairs that led to the floor above him. One by one, he took those steps as if he was hypnotized by a siren song. Once on the first floor, he found himself in a long and dark hallway. Everything in that hallway was also covered in white sheets. The paintings, the corner tables… Every door was closed as well. Mark tried to call Irwin’s name again but he knew he wouldn’t get a response. Suddenly, a door opened violently, letting the sunlight illuminate the darkened hallway. Mark wanted to just run away and leave France entirely. But he couldn’t even move. It was then he heard the voice for the first time, the voice of Anthon Demahy De Chevenelles. The cold began the creep up Mark’s spine. The ghost was calling him, guiding him into that opened door. Mark was under the ghost’s grasp, he had no choice but to obey. It was a library, a beautiful and large library with books all over the walls. The sunlight came from a large window with tied curtains. Just beneath that window was a large book. The book was already opened. Anthon told Mark to go and pick the book up. Mark entered the library and went for it as he was told. The pages the book was open on were about one of the Great 13 Families of the magical community. As mark read what was written, Anthon fully appeared to Mark.

“Who are you?” Asked Mark, frightened by the translucent figure of Irwin’s uncle.

“I am Anthon Demahy De Chevenelles. And you are Mark Roosevelt, my nephew’s friend from America.” 

“What do you want from me? What do you want me to do with that book?” Fear was making Mark’s voice tremble.

“They are in danger Mark, help my family.” Cryptically said the ghost.

As Anthon’s ghost slowly faded away, Mark fainted. In his unconsciousness, Mark had confusing visions about Irwin, about Anthon himself speaking with Irwin, about other members of the Demahy De Chevenelles family he didn’t know. 

When Mark woke up, it was as if the entire event was a dream. He barely remembered what had happened. Which was too bad, because the people looking down at him as if he was an animal at the zoo wanted some answers. It was Irwin, Aurélia, and their cousins who came to save him from being killed bloody. They had brought him over from the Rosemary Manor to the Benedicta Manor. Mark awkwardly sat up on the sofa he had been put on while he was unconscious. He looked around and didn’t recognize where he was. Irwin waved at him to make sure he had seen them looking right at him with questioning stares. Mark tried to concentrate and remember how he had gotten where he was but a major headache was preventing him from gathering his thoughts. Aurélia got annoyed by the wait and fired the first shot.

“So you come into people’s homes and look around into people’s things without permission!” Angrily shouted Aurélia to Mark.

“Be gentle sis, I’m the one who brought him here. He's my guest.” Said Irwin to Aurélia.

“And you shouldn’t have Irwin! Look at what happened! The Rosemary Manor! Alone! Didn’t you tell him not to snoop around?”

I forgot about Uncle Anthon. I’m sorry. It’s slipped my mind.” Irwin apologetically looked at his friend who almost died.

“What exactly happened?” Asked Mark, confused.

“Look at the poor fool” began Ricardo, “He doesn’t even know how close to death he was.”

“Death? You mean Anthon?” Mark was beginning to remember what had happened.

“Yes!” Shouted Aurélia, furious at her brother.

“Anthon didn’t want to kill me. He appeared to me because he wanted to tell me something.” Said, Mark.

Everyone around him was dumbfounded by what Mark had said. Even Aurélia was lost for words. Never had Anthon Demahy De Chevenelles spoken to anyone after he had died. Not to a member of his own family, not to anyone. He had made people known of his presence, had made noises, and had even killed people. But never he had outright spoken or appeared to anyone capable of interacting with the other side. What Mark suggested was not only shocking to Irwin and his family, but it also indicated that Mark was capable of communicating with ghosts. Which was also a great surprise to Irwin.

“You are saying that you saw and spoke with my dead uncle.” Said Irwin with wide eyes.

“Yes, I did.” Answered Mark, realizing how crazy it sounded.

“Dude! Since when can you speak to ghosts? It’s amazing!” Irwin was very excited for his friend.

“Yeah, who knew that squatter was a medium?” Ricardo sounded jealous.

“I’m a what?” Mark asked.

“Enough with this!” Shouted Aurélia, who had stepped out of her bewilderment. “He’s lying! Uncle Anthon had never spoken to any of us, his family. Even the skilled professionals we bought into the Rosemary Manor were never able to communicate with him. How can an amateur who didn’t even know what he was up until now could have spoken to him?”

“I’m not lying!” Refuted Mark. “I know what I saw! Anthon spoke to me! And he made me see things.”

Aurélia was still pessimistic. “What did he tell you?”

“He wanted me to read a book…” began Mark but Rosalia interrupted him.

“You mean this book?” She showed the thick book that she had picked up behind Mark to everyone. “It’s the history of the great families, volume 49.”

“Why would he show you this particular book?” asked Irwin.

“Dude, I don’t know. It was opened on the floor. He asked me to pick it up and I just started reading.”

“What page?” Asked Rosalia. ”What is it exactly you were reading? Can you remember?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Said Mark to Rosalia.

“Volume 49 is mostly about the 13th family.” Added Ricardo.

“Right, but what about them?” Asked Irwin.

“What did my uncle say?” Asked Aurélia. “What did he want from you?”

Hesitant, Mark carefully answered Aurélia. “He wanted me to help you, somehow.”

“Help us?” Everyone echoed.

That was when a maid came into the living room they were in to announce that lunch was ready.