Winchester Mystery House Novels & Stories

I replied. We had crossed the garden that separated the four wings of the mansion and were now approaching the wing that belonged to Marcus. “Which village will the townhouse be located in?” asked Maureen. Was she usually this pesky? “Safe to say, the best village in all of Mistwood Creek,” I replied and increased my pace. We arrived inside the banquet hall and made our way up the stairs. I peered down the hallway leading into Marcus’s chambers and it was silent. Eager to know why, I sauntered down the hallway in silent steps, with Maureen following closely behind me.

“This is just one of a dozen in this particular building.” “Really?” “I put them in every single work I do, from houses to skyscrapers.” “Why?” “Because I can.” He grins. “I was fascinated with secret passageways from the time I was a kid. I went to this place called the Winchester House when I was five. You ever heard of it?” I shake my head. “No.”

“Is he a troll? Hideous? Disfigured?” The man smiled. “I’m afraid you’ll have to see for yourself.” By midnight, Aria sat alone in the back of the limousine, Archibald the wedding puppy snoozing beside her, paw on her silk lap. She stared out the window as the city melted into dark woods and winding roads, leading them to the estate she’d been told was now “home.” It was massive. Ancient stone. Ivy. Balconies with wrought-iron railings. The kind of mansion people died in during horror films. She stepped out into the moonlight with her arms crossed.

“This room doubles as a safe room and a tornado shelter. There are others scattered through the house. I’ll show you later, just in case.” In case someone tries to kill me, I thought grimly. I shook the thought off and focused on why I’d come here. “Where are the Theodore Winchesters?” I asked. “There are at least thirty of those rifles in the collection.” Williams nodded toward one side of the room, where glass display cases stretched across the wall. “Why?” Normally, I might have kept this to myself. But Marcus hadn’t told me when he went searching for his own clue. I didn’t owe him secrecy anymore.

I tease, leaning in slightly. She swats at my arm. “Just tell me where we’re going.” I chuckle, but before I can answer, the car slows, pulling onto a long, winding driveway. At the end is a mansion straight out of a gothic novel. The house looms ahead of us, massive and dramatic with Victorian architecture, deep ebony woodwork, and tall windows that flicker with golden light from within. Harper leans forward, pressing a hand to the window. “Okay, this is a murder mystery house.”

A moment later, a piece of paper slid through the narrow gap beneath my door. The footsteps retreated in haste. I peered through the peephole. The hallway was empty. I didn't touch the note, afraid of smudging fingerprints. Instead, I crouched and read the words on it: I know the truth about Edmund's death. Come to the big banyan tree in Greenfield Residences at 11 p.m. Don't call the police. The note was crafted with meticulous care—letters cut out from newspapers and books, pieced together like a ransom demand, leaving no trace of handwriting.

I mean there’s no way that ghost are real right? With that in thought, Blaine decided to head downstairs and get a glass of water. He pass by the hallways and notice that there’s a lot of painting in this house. He never know of this fact because eversince he move in this house, he never really look around. He will go at work when the sun is not yet rising and he will go home late at night. Plus the fact that they rarely turn on the lights so he didn’t really have the chance to saw the paintings that are hanging in the wall.

The text reads: HEY, HOW ARE YOU? ..... I smile warmly. I have not heard from Jason since the beach day. I will text him later, after my meet up with the devil. Lizzie, that is. In no time, I’m on the street that Lizzie told me her house is. I walk to the huge house. The lawn is perfect, the windows are gigantic. The house is extremely modern. A little rectangular tag is near the door and it says: 666.

He gave her a slanted look. “She looks innocent and cute. But I don’t understand why. I am still confused as it is. If am doing what’s right. The cops were here. Like I said earlier Looking for some killer beast or something. And she wasn’t in the house then. Later she came in. I don’t understand. Ms Teresa. Who is she?” “Can you do me just one favor. Please Dixon. You’ll get to know everything about her. Let her stay.” “That’s the reason you gave me a house. Isn’t?”

Neither realized how close they had come to recognizing each other. The moment passed as naturally as it came. Marian and Zoe remained completely unaware. The three women continued deeper into the Winchester mansion, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floor. Amber found herself taking in every detail around her. The place was magnificent beyond anything she had imagined. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from ceilings that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. Priceless artwork lined the walls. Every piece of furniture looked like it belonged in a museum rather than a private residence. Marian's eyes sparkled with greed as she looked around.