Pointing her torch to illuminate the bottom of the stairs, she spoke. "That's where she's meant to have died. Pushed down the main stairs to break her neck in the fall. The haunted house was almost two hundred years old, and very grand. Stacey kept quiet, as she mused about Katie's story. There were after all, two stairs hugging the walls, and sweeping upstairs.
The entrance hall was bigger than Katie's entire apartment, just the floor space, without thinking of the height of the room. The mansion expanded backwards towards a library, a proper dining hall, and the various rooms needed for the staff and so forth.
Through the dining room, there was access to the garden. Well, it was more of a park, than anything so simple as a garden. With stables, a hedge maze, the property extended backwards to the edge of the forest.
The entrance hall was still opulently decorated, with portaits hanging on the wall. The owner looked oppressive, and domineering, on the opposite wall, the lady of the house looked like her face would crack if she attempted a smile.
The upstairs led to the bedrooms, and to the atrium. The heritage was well known, even if a little mixed and mingled with local legends, and stories. The estate was kept untouched, and abandoned, its' fate being decided with a decades long battle in the courts. The deaths were facts, though debated whether it was murder, suicide, accident or home invasion.
The events of that night were unknown, even though the consequences were documented down to the disposition of the bodies, when they were discovered.
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