Clause had grown accustomed to the protestations and lamentations of his master's victims, so the maid's pitiful cries registered as no more than white noise as they made their way down the endless hallways and corridors toward Mr. Gordon's room.  His grip held her arm like a vise, his fingers pinching down into her flesh hard enough to bruise.  The dark and stoic butler was not looking to repeat the mishaps caused by the last woman who was forced down these halls, nor the reprimands he endured nor the cleaning he performed afterwards.<br/><br/>"Cease your stubborn resistance and perhaps we shall suggest that you be granted some leniency," he scolded, knowing full well Mr. Gordon would never entertain such an idea.  He yanked her several times on behalf of his master's impatience and quickened his pace.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">-------​</div><br/>An eerie unease had settled in much quicker than Spencer expected.  When the professor had loosened her grip on his hand, he wondered whether it was because she was repulsed by the sudden clamminess of his palms.  One minute they were glued to one another and exchanging light conversation, albeit under creepy circumstances, and the next minute she was spouting a quiet nonsense about a master he couldn't see and their guide continued following a voice he could not hear.<br/><br/>With his flashlight in one hand and Lea in the other, he hadn't the means to reach for his recording, and so he settled with mumbling to himself instead, making a mental note to go back and re-record at his earliest convenience.<br/><br/>"Rather unexplainable events are unfolding, though I am witness to none of it myself.  My companions speak to apparitions or talk of... things that don't exist.  If this shall be a haunt, I feel wholly ill-prepared to document the event."<br/><br/>Dragging an uncharacteristically stiff Lea behind him, Spencer rushed to catch up to their guide, not realizing he should be taking the same care as her about where he stepped.  His feet stomped carelessly against the floor as he made his way toward her.  "What is going on?" he asked Jamie.  "Something seems on the cusp of transpiring.  What should we do?"  The beam of his flashlight shining against the opposite wall exaggerated the quiver in his hand.<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="20459" data-username="@LeaT" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://bluemoonroleplaying.com/community/members/20459/">@LeaT</a><a class="username" data-user-id="34307" data-username="@Colonel_Liam" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://bluemoonroleplaying.com/community/members/34307/">@Colonel_Liam</a>