Regrets

​

A storm was on its way.

​

Dark clouds rolled across the sky as a billowing breeze buffeted leaves and other debris into miniature tornadoes. Most residents of Clement City were safely tucked away inside their homes, huddling under blankets and sipping hot cups of tea.

​

Deep in the forest, a dilapidated mansion resolutely stood against the onslaught of wind and trash. There was no respite from the cold wind inside the worn-out mansion. Broken windows glared like eyes out onto what was once an immaculately kept front yard. The mansion was quite old, and was infamous among the residents of Clement City.

​

McVee Mansion had always been a favorite topic of debate; everyone had a legend or fable to tell about the place. Though the rotting building was kept alive in the local citizens’ memories and imaginations, respect for the spirits lingering inside was very much a forgotten aspect of the folklore.

​

At least, that’s what Vaughn McVee figured. He had built McVee Mansion a little over thirty years ago for his bride, Virdia. Vaughn had died at the mansion, and now wandered the halls as a trapped spirit.

​

The time since his demise had ebbed and flowed like the tides. Sometimes his death felt like it had just recently happened; other times, Vaughn mused that he was the oldest being in all of Insecta.

​

He usually spent the days watching the forest from the top floor of the mansion. He had too; many toons from Clement City were intrigued about the mansion, and trespassed onto the grounds—or worse, directly into the mansion. Many of them had lost their lives within its walls.

​

Vaughn snorted, rummaging through a dresser drawer for a carton of cigarettes. Murdered was the better word for it. Those who had died at the mansion were trapped here, just like Vaughn.

​

Vaughn’s antennae pricked up as he found what he had been searching for. He opened the carton and was immediately disappointed; only one cigarette remained. He grabbed it and irritably tossed the carton back into the drawer. Examining the cigarette, he slowly stepped over to a broken window. The view from here was ample enough for his purpose of keeping watch for trespassers. He twirled the cigarette in his fingers for a bit, finding some small comfort in holding an object that reminded him of better times.

​

He sighed, looking solemnly outside. His thoughts, as usual, turned to the fact that he and several other souls were stuck in the mansion. Trapped, with not even a speck of hope to alleviate their condition…

​

Lost in his musings, he didn’t notice the shadowy silhouette of another spirit forming behind him. It sneered, “What are you doing, Vaughn? Keeping watch again?”

​

Vaughn grunted, ignoring the other spirit. He continued staring outside, chewing on the cigarette.

​

The other ghost stood beside Vaughn, grunting, "You might be interested to know that I've got some important information to share."

​

Stomach clenching, Vaughn turned away. Whenever this particular spirit approached him, it usually meant bad news. The other ghost nodded as if reading his thoughts, mumbling, “I've spotted two toons heading over here."

​

Jerking his head up, Vaughn gripped the other spirit’s shoulders, shouting, "What?! When?"

 

"Just now, actually. Didn't you see them from way up here?"

 

Vaughn swerved around the ghost and rushed away.

​

The other ghost called after him, "There's no point trying to stop Virdia from killing them. She's much too powerful for you or anyone here."

 

"I know that. But I can't sit back and do nothing!" Vaughn called over his shoulder. He turned around to leave the room.

 

The ghost croaked after him, "It's not like your efforts were successful with me."

 

Vaughn skidded to a halt, hands braked against the doorframe. He gulped, shutting his eyes. Every death he had witnessed at the mansion was stashed away in his mind in perfect clarity. He craned his head around, casting the other ghost a forlorn glance. The other ghost was a stout little old lady, and maybe in her life she had been a very warm and welcoming individual. But not anymore. Understandably, being murdered and trapped at the mansion oftentimes caused adverse changes to happen to some of the ghosts here.

 

Shaking his head slightly, he whispered, "Rue...I'm sorry I couldn't have done more for you."

 

Rue, arms crossed, glared out the window. Without looking up she sighed, "You better go."

 

Vaughn opened his mouth, wishing to find some words of comfort, but failed at thinking of anything helpful. Shaking his head as if that would aide his mind, he dashed out of the room.

 

Rue stared off into the distance, eyes glazed.

​

***

​

The day before had been a brilliantly sunny day. Birds twittered in the trees, folks were enjoying a nice day at the beach, and Kellie’s Diner, a popular restaurant in Clement City, was stuffed to capacity with hungry swarms.

 

Two toons left the diner, holding hands and leaping to the sidewalk. The first one, a bespectacled mosquito, grabbed the other toon’s hands. Grinning, he said, “Tomorrow’s our one year anniversary! What do you want to do?”

 

The other toon, a young lady wearing slightly worn and baggy overalls, tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I’m fine with anything!”

 

She gazed at the other toon lovingly. Felix Flatt was her boyfriend. When she had first moved to Clement City over a year ago, she had been wary of trusting anybody in the small town. But Felix’s fun-loving nature had shown her that there was nothing to be afraid of in her new home. She smiled at him. She hoped that he knew just how grateful she was to him, and just how much she loved him.

 

She stroked Felix’s hair, asking, “Did you have something special in mind?”

 

Shrugging, Felix grinned and glanced away. “Well, maybe. But only if it really interests you, Dolores,” he announced. He excitedly gripped her hands. “You're always saying how drab Clement City is, and how you miss all the historic architecture from your hometown."

 

Dolores giggled, “You’re always complaining about how dull this place is. But you're right, I'd love to know more about the history here."

 

“So I thought of something that we could do.”

 

“What?”

 

Leaning closer, Felix murmured, “Do you know about McVee Mansion?”

 

Dolores exclaimed, “McVee Mansion?” just as another toon left Kellie’s Diner. The newcomer pricked his antennae as he overheard her.

 

He stepped beside the two toons. “McVee Mansion? You two aren’t planning on going there, right?”

 

Felix fervently shook his head, his antennae whipping around his face. He scoffed, “Oh now, Lenny old pal! Why do you care?”

 

Lenny raised an eyebrow at him. “That place is spooky. Full of real live ghosts!”

 

Crossing her arms, Dolores grinned. “That’s an oxymoron, Lenny.”

Curious, she looked from Felix to Lenny and back to Felix. “What’s so interesting about it though?”

 

Lenny, wagging a finger in the air, tsk-tsked. “Dolores, you’ve been living with Ike and Ginger for a year and they haven’t mentioned it to you?”

 

Dolores shook her head. “Nope.”

​

Furrowing his eyebrows, Lenny waved his fingers around his face. Hunching his shoulders, he spoke in an intentionally eerie voice, "The joint was built many years ago, by a famous actor for his new bride."

 

Dolores stifled a chuckle, but was surprised by how spooky Lenny’s voice had become. Lenny swept on, dramatically posing and dancing around Dolores and Felix. “After they had moved in,” Lenny continued, “The actor killed his wife!”

 

Lenny stopped to strike a pensive pose, tapping his finger to his chin. "I think it was over whether or not to go on a vacation across Insecta. The story's been told so many times, nobody really knows what’s fact, and what’s fiction."

 

Shrugging, Lenny added, "Anyway, the actor stalks the halls, killing anyone who sets foot in his beloved home! At least, that's what ole' Gilbert says."

 

Shaking her head, Dolores snorted, "Gilbert? I've told you before, Lenny, Gilbert’s old and lonely. He makes up these outlandish stories for attention."

 

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn ya both!” Lenny, voice chipper, shrugged again and skipped away, whistling.

 

As Lenny disappeared out of sight, Felix furrowed his brows at him, then took Dolores’ hands in his. Smiling softly at her, he said, “Don’t listen to his bushwa. McVee Mansion is simply a rotten old pile of junk out in the woods.”

 

He gently rubbed her hands. “What’s the worst thing that could happen? We get a splinter on an old hand railing?”

 

Dolores grinned a bit, examining Felix’s sweater. She plucked a bit of lint from his shoulder then smoothed the wrinkles out, relenting, “I gotta admit, abandoned buildings are very intriguing. This could be exciting."

 

Tilting her head up, she beamed at Felix. "Let's do it!"

​

***

​

The wind howled around McVee Mansion as Vaughn stood at the doorway, skimming the parameters of the property. Rue hovered behind him, hissing, “And how will this time be any different from the others? You’ve got no control over these situations!”

 

He glanced away as she pressed on, “You couldn’t even save a kitten from a tree if you tried.”

 

“You’d better go,” Vaughn snarled softly.

 

Rue crossed her arms, lifting an eyebrow at him, grumbling, “Or what? Virdia will kill me again?”

 

She sighed, glancing forlornly around the dirty and disheveled interior of the mansion’s front entryway. “I thought, in the very least, that I’d be able to leave here and be reunited with my husband. I wonder if he knows that I’m trapped here….”

 

“We’ll figure a way out of this mess,” Vaughn whispered, gazing at her with wide eyes. “I promise.”

 

Rue shot him a withering look. “I’ve been dead and stuck here for 25 years. We’re never going to be free,” she hissed.

 

Vaughn sighed, looking away from Rue and continuing his vigil. He clutched the cigarette between his teeth, chewing and puffing furiously on it. Maybe Rue had been mistaken, he hopelessly thought. Maybe she had been mistaken, and had simply seen an animal approaching the mansion earlier.

 

“It’s your fault,” Rue snarled at him. “This whole mess.”

 

Vaughn resolutely stared outside as she droned on, “You shouldn’t have married that woman. You knew she didn’t love you.”

 

“I didn’t know about how she felt till after my death,” Vaughn softly replied, still chewing his cigarette. “I thought…”

 

A disembodied voice sliced through his words: “What, that I actually loved you?”

 

Rue’s form shimmered out of sight as a different ghost stepped from the gloom. Vaughn straightened his back and narrowed his eyes at the ghost. The other ghost sneered, “Your money was the only thing I loved about you.”

 

Tossing the cigarette away, Vaughn snorted, “You wouldn’t have gotten everything anyway, Virdia. I had left most of my money to the orphanage!”

 

Virdia shook her head with a bit of sadness and—what was that? And maybe with a bit of regret? The moment was so fleeting, Vaughn wondered if he had imagined it.

 

“What you had left me in your will would have improved my life so much,” Virdia whispered, looking around. “It would have improved mine and Gilbert’s lives.”

 

Vaughn grunted, wanting to change the subject. “I know why you’re here. You’ve seen some toons approaching, haven’t you?”

 

"I'm exhausted with all these tormenting busybodies,” Virdia growled, glaring at Vaughn. Vaughn thought he heard a note of sadness once more in her voice, but again, the moment was so imperceptible that he figured it was his imagination. Virdia swept on, “Free to traipse about this prison and then go back to their perfect little lives...."

 

“And how many of those trespassers have you actually let go?” Vaughn snapped. “Most of them die!”

 

Eyes growing round, Vaughn continued in a softer voice. “You’re better than this, Virdia. I know it. You…you don’t have to be like…”

 

“Like what?” Virdia hissed, glaring at Vaughn. “Finish your sentence.”

 

Averting his gaze, Vaughn mumbled, “You know who I mean.” He looked back at Virdia, speaking a bit louder, “Don’t kill them, Virdia. Leave them be.”

 

Virdia, glaring sporadically around the yard, dug her nails into the door frame. She growled, “They shouldn’t come here. The living don’t belong here.”

 

Suddenly, out of the fog, two figures emerged. Vaughn’s antenna lowered and his eyes widened. Oh, please, he prayed, Turn around. There’s still time to leave!

 

Virdia’s voice was shrill and hollow as she pointed to the two figures. “They must feel my pain!”

 

“Virdia!” Vaughn cried out, reaching for her.

 

The two spirits vanished like morning dew as Felix and Dolores stepped onto the rickety porch. Felix glanced around, rubbing his arms. “Heh. Kinda chilly here,” he groaned.

 

Dolores leaned against his arm and hugged him. “It adds to the ambiance!”

 

Grasping his hand firmly, she whispered, “Let’s go in.”

 

They took a step inside.

 

Dolores gasped. Tall ceilings arched above her; numerous paintings adorned the walls, and a once grand rug stretched from the front door to the imposing staircase. Despite the cobwebs and worn-out fixtures, Dolores could tell that this place had once been very elegant. She looked around, spying a mirror and table against the wall. Stepping away from Felix, Dolores bounced over to the mirror. Several photographs were stuck to it, tattered, frayed, and bleached from the sun. Some hand written letters festooned the top of the mirror, fluttering gently in a light, cold breeze.

 

Suppressing a shiver, Dolores gulped. “Golly…Felix, you’ve got to see these.”

 

“What?” yelped Felix, pressing against her.

 

He didn’t pay much attention to Dolores as she gingerly touched one of the pictures. Dolores squinted at it, whispering, “It’s hard to make out, but I think these are photographs. And newspaper clippings…I can’t read them though, they’re so faded…”

 

She examined them more closely. She couldn’t make out the images in the photographs, no matter how hard she squinted at them. She rose from her inspection.

 

“Felix, can we go? This doesn’t feel right,” she whispered.

 

“What do you mean?” Felix murmured, gazing at Dolores quizzically. “Are the floorboards crooked?”

 

Dolores shook her head. She couldn’t quite understand the sudden overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume her. Looking around frantically, she swept on, “No, I mean—this is somebody's private life we're poking our noses into. And I feel like we're being watched."

 

Forcing a smile, Felix gazed at Dolores. He tried to still his trembling hands, to no avail. He gulped a few times and managed to mumble, “Dolores darling, nobody is here but us."

 

CLANG!

 

Dolores and Felix swiveled around as a long fire poker crashed beside their feet. Dolores screeched as a large, dark figure swirled around them. The dank mist spun faster and faster. Its heavy presence chilled Dolores to the bone. She clutched Felix as he grabbed her hands.

 

A face started to glow a mere two inches in front of them. Felix shut his eyes, gripping Dolores tighter. Dolores suddenly felt rooted to the spot as she watched the face take form: fangs protruded from its mouth, ink dripping steadily down. Its brows were furrowed in anger, shielding eyes that harbored slitted pupils.

 

“Leave McVee Mansion!”

 

Dolores wasn’t certain, but part of her knew that it was the gruesome face shouting those words at her and Felix. The heavy mist started to slowly push her and Felix out the door. The two toons flailed inside the cloud, gasping for air. Felix’s feet scraped against the chipped wood porch.

 

A deep, quiet voice pierced through the tumultuous mist: “What poor manners you have, Vaughn. Sending these visitors away so abruptly?”

 

A new and different force blocked Dolores, Felix, and the mist’s path. Dolores and Felix were sent spinning back inside the foyer.

 

The new force sliced at the mist, scoring long scratch marks down its cheek. Ink floated and spilled out of the fresh wounds. The mist snarled at the force, but to no avail.

 

The second spirit planted a hand over both Dolores and Felix’s throats as they writhed in protest. Vaughn, who had been shoved to the ground, scrambled to his feet, shouting: “NO!”

 

He rammed his whole body into Felix, dislodging him from Virdia’s grasp. Vaughn, using every strand of strength he possessed, chucked Felix outside and over the porch. Felix, dumbstruck, bounced onto the grass, rolling away.

 

Vaughn spun around to reach for Dolores. In that short amount of time, Virdia had floated up to the ceiling, hoisting Dolores with her. Dolores struggled against Virdia’s grip, eyes bulging as she rose higher into the air. Virdia, through tears, snarled softly, “Ah. I see you’ve got someone who loves you.” Virdia cast Felix a quick, angry glare, then focused on Dolores again.

 

Vaughn gaped at them. Shaking free of his trance, he lunged up to them as Virdia spat, “Not anymore.”

 

She flung Dolores outside.

 

Eyes wide in horror, Vaughn watched as Dolores slammed into the front porch. Boards snapped and sprang away from the impact, splintering apart. Dolores’s body disappeared under the floorboards.

 

A sickly, silent hush fell over the mansion. Raindrops began to softly fall.

 

Virdia gazed down at the new hole in the porch. Vaughn quietly stepped over debris, making his way to the hole. He stood at the edge, took a deep breath, and slowly peered down.

 

Dolores’ body lay mangled among dirt and floorboards. A shard of wood pierced through her eye sockets, leaving nothing but ink and eye matter dripping steadily down her face. Her mouth was agape, and a thin trail of ink dripped its way down her chin.

 

Virdia flicked her gaze to Felix, who was struggling to stand. He was clutching his side and slipping in the mud that was now forming under the rain.

 

Immediately Vaughn flew off the porch and slammed into Felix once more. Felix was sent sprawling across the ground, closer to where the old driveway once was. Vaughn stood up. He had used most of his energy on creating the mist cloud and distorting his face from before. He clenched his fists. But he had to appear to this toon one more time.

 

Mustering all the strength he could, he willed his body to become visible. Relief swamped over him as he saw Felix’s eyes widening in shock; he could see him!

 

“Run, you idiot!” Vaughn screeched. “Leave and never come back.”

 

“Wh-who are you?”

 

Vaughn advanced towards him, growling, “Leave, you fool!”

 

“Not without Dolores.”

 

Vaughn cast a glance behind him. Virdia was getting closer. He faced Felix again, whispering, “I—I’ll look after her. She’ll be all right, I promise.”

 

Felix stood like a tree stump for a few seconds. Then, to Vaughn’s overwhelming relief, he turned and hobbled out of sight. Vaughn sighed.

 

Virdia stopped beside Vaughn. Vaughn glared at her.

 

“You don’t understand,” Virdia breathed, staring at nothing in particular. “You…don’t know…”

 

Glancing at Virdia, Vaughn opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut. He simply shook his head. He looked behind his shoulder at the porch, wishing he had the strength to pull the body up from the dirt and drag it away from the mansion. But no amount of wishful thinking would give him the strength he needed to get the body away from this property. None of the folks who had died at the mansion had their bodies recovered from the property. Just like with the other trespassers, this gal’s body would be taken and hidden away somewhere. But not by Virdia's doing. No, it was another spirit who had control over where the bodies wound up.

 

Vaughn speculated that that was the secret to the power over the trapped souls at McVee Mansion. He had tried to escape the house to search for the bodies, but each time he had strayed a little too far, his energy had been totally drained, causing him to black out for several days or weeks at a time. It was as if there was a force field around the house. All Vaughn knew was that there was no way to cross the boundary to leave the property for good.

 

He sighed, rubbing his cheek faster, and looked up at the power lines that had once connected McVee Mansion to the outside world. He pricked an antenna. Not for the first time he wondered if there was any remaining power hidden in those wires. Power that nobody had tried to tap in to, energy that he could utilize...​

​

Vaughn shook his head free of those thoughts. Glancing around, he realized that Virdia had vanished.

 

The rain ceased as Vaughn closed his eyes. Ghosts couldn’t feel weather, which was nice when it came to the cold or heat, but one thing Vaughn missed terribly was the feel and smell of the rain. He sighed, struggling to recollect what rain had smelled like.

 

A loud snapping noise made him open his eyes. He faced the porch.

 

He peered into the hole where the lady had crashed through. He watched as her spirit lifted itself out of her twisted body.

 

Voice gentle and quiet, Vaughn called down, “Are you all right?”

 

The toon looked up at him, confusion lighting her face. “Wha…who are you?”

​

Struggling to find her footing, the lady attempted to climb out of the deep pit. Vaughn offered her his hand. He softly replied, “Let’s get you out of there first.”

 

Vaughn assisted the toon in climbing out of the hole. She stumbled against him, blinking her eyes quickly. She groaned, “What happened?”

 

She gasped as recollection dawned over her face. “Where’s Felix?” she looked up at Vaughn, gasping fretfully, “Where is he?”

 

Vaughn opened his mouth to respond when she abruptly doubled over, her face contorted into pain. She choked, “I—I don’t feel good. And my eyes are burning!”

 

This was one of the worst parts, having to reveal the truth to newly deceased members of McVee Mansion. Vaughn swallowed and reached out to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, but stopped himself. Instead he answered, “I’m so sorry. I wish I had better news for you.”

 

She whipped her head up to him, hair flying about. “What do you mean?”

 

“You and your friend trespassed,” breathed Vaughn, shutting his eyes tightly. “There’s a specific ghost who roams the halls here that does not like trespassers.”

 

The toon stared at him as he finished, “You and your friend were flung outside.”

 

The toon shook her head in disbelief. “You’re full of bunk.”

 

Vaughn gently steered her to the hole in the porch, adding, “Your companion escaped. He’ll be fine.”

 

He looked down into the hole. The toon looked at his face as he sighed, “You were thrown onto the porch.”

 

The toon followed his gaze. She let out a shrill gasp, covering her mouth with her hands.

 

Large tears rolled down her cheeks as her body convulsed with silent sobs. Vaughn bit his lip, wishing with all his might that he could find words to comfort her. He attempted to pat her back, but withdrew his hands. He looked down at his shoes. Of course he wished that he could turn back time. But what good was it to waste the present on wishing to change the past? The best he could do now was help this toon in any way he could. He spoke, “There's nothing we can do to change your fate. I'm terribly sorry. But you're dead. It's the fate of many who come here."

 

The toon, controlling her sobs only marginally, looked into Vaughn’s eyes. "But Felix is safe?" 

 

Vaughn stared for a minute. She must really love him, he thought. He nodded, mumbling, "Yes."

​

She tilted her head, wiping her nose with her hand. "You were the one that tried to force us out of the mansion, weren't you?"

 

“Yes,” Vaughn muttered after a moment, casting his eyes down.

 

The other toon, regaining her composure, asked, "What's your name?"

 

There was a brief pause. Then Vaughn murmured, "Vaughn McVee. I built this house for my wife."

 

Planting his hands on his hips, Vaughn turned around, examining the mansion’s edifice. "It looked nicer when it was brand new, of course." He turned around to face her, asking, "And you are?"

 

"Dolores Gordon. The other fellow is Felix Flatt, my boyfriend." Realizing her words, Dolores gripped her arm and bit her lip. "Oh. Was my boyfriend."

 

Vaughn gazed at her with understanding. "I'm so sorry, Dolores. It'll take a while to get used to all of this. If you need anything, or simply just want to talk, I’m always at the top floor of the mansion.” Vaughn turned to leave, adding quietly, “This is a lot to adjust to. If you need a moment to yourself, I'll leave you alone."

 

Dolores grabbed his arm. She started to tear up a bit again as she pleaded, "Please don't leave me! I'm so confused, and I really don't want to be alone right now."

 

Relenting, Vaughn faced her. Nodding, he announced, "Very well. Why not you join me upstairs then? The ghost who...the ghost who threw you both out rarely ventures up there. It's usually only myself and a few others on the top floor. Quietest spot in the mansion."

 

Dolores relaxed, hugging his arm.

 

They headed inside and upstairs. Vaughn watched Dolores as they ascended, noticing how her fear gradually turned into interest in her surroundings. Vaughn decided that it was best to reveal the harsh truth to her now. "Unfortunately, your spirit is unable to leave the mansion. Till I can figure out a solution to this predicament, you…you’re trapped here."

 

Dolores looked at him with wide eyes and whispered, "We can't just leave?"

 

An image of the power lines flitted about in Vaughn’s mind. He shook his head as if to clear those thoughts away, then responded, "I've been trying to find a way for all the ghosts to escape."

 

They crested the final step. Vaughn led her to the room he had been in earlier that afternoon. He stopped just outside the door as Dolores peered around, smiling a bit.

 

"This looks like it could've been such a cozy little room," Dolores hesitantly murmured.

 

Vaughn caressed the door frame as she ventured inside. He replied, “It was my wife’s sewing room.”

 

As Dolores explored the little wonders the room had to offer, Vaughn watched her sadly. With each trinket she discovered, her eyes became brighter, and a small smile played at her lips.

 

Vaughn was preparing to step inside as Rue’s breath tickled his arm. “Another dead toon. You barely saved that other fellow.”

 

Refusing to look at Rue, Vaughn grimaced. “At least her companion’s alive.”

 

“This one is so young,” Rue snarled, ignoring Vaughn’s statement. “What, 25, 30, years old? What a shame.”

 

Vaughn’s vision swam in front of him. “I should’ve been able to save her, too.”

 

“You say that about all the souls trapped here!” Rue scoffed.

 

Rue’s voice started to drift away as she swept on, “You couldn't even save yourself....couldn't save your wife...."

 

Vaughn angled an antenna back at her as she continued, “They'll just keep coming, Vaughn. And you'll be helpless to stop them. They’ll keep getting hurt, killed, scarred for life."

 

“It's a hopeless cause, and you know it,” Rue hissed quietly. “There's nobody out there who can help us."

 

He snapped his head toward her, but Rue was gone. Dolores’ voice wafted out to him, “Vaughn?”

 

Giving his shoulders a quick shake, he tentatively stepped into the room. “What is it?”

 

He spotted Dolores, sitting on a ratty old armchair. She was holding a large scrapbook. She asked, “What’s in here? Can we look at it?”

 

“Oh, that old thing,” Vaughn’s voice was tinged with relief as he smiled at the sight of the book. “It's a scrapbook from the orphanage where I grew up. You can look at anything you like up here."

 

Dolores, hugging the book, nodded her head to another old book. "What's that one?"

 

Vaughn frowned at it, answering flatly, "Wedding album."

 

Clearing his throat, Vaughn added, "Look at anything you want to. You might not be able to leave the mansion, but you are free to do as you like here in the sewing room. Come and go as you please."

 

Dolores traced her finger along the scrapbook’s edge. She responded, “I’d like to stay with you in the sewing room.”

 

Vaughn felt an unexpected twinge of relief.

 

“What do you do all day?” Dolores asked as she gazed around.

 

Vaughn nodded to the broken window. "Reminisce, mostly. I also watch for trespassers."

 

Dolores glanced away.

 

She reached for the wedding album and started to thumb through it. She stopped at a faded picture of Vaughn and Virdia. Vaughn took a sharp breath as he recognized the photograph; it was taken right after their wedding as they were about to disembark for their honeymoon. Virdia was wearing a long dress, with shiny shoes, with an elegant hat encircled closely around her head. Hadn’t that been a good day? Virdia had teased him about his mustache, saying it needed a trim. Vaughn sighed, reaching for a cigarette and silently cursing himself for throwing the last one on the floor downstairs. Her supposed affection for him had all been an act on her part. How had he been so blind?

 

“Did you love her?” Dolores’ question jerked Vaughn out of his reverie.

 

Vaughn blinked. “I’ll never stop loving her.”

 

Dolores looked awkwardly around, trying to cheer up. “Well, if I’m going to be stuck here too, I want to be useful.”

 

Vaughn tilted his head, intrigue making his antenna prick forward. A smile tickled the corners of his lips. “Hmm?”

 

“I’m going to help you save the toons who come here.”

 

“You really want to do that?”

 

Dolores nodded, eyes starting to lighten. “Yes. Together, maybe we can find a solution to our problem!”

 

Standing, Dolores smiled and took a step closer to Vaughn. “I don’t give up easily. And I’m not going to back down after what that other ghost did to Felix.”

 

Vaughn couldn’t help but grin. “That’s the spirit!”

 

Unexpectedly Dolores hugged Vaughn. She lightly sobbed, “I'm so scared. But I'm ready for whatever comes next. I'm going to help you, Vaughn, and I'm not leaving your side till we're out of this place!"

 

Vaughn blinked, and his heart beat faster. When was the last time anyone had embraced him like this? Remembering which room he was standing in, he twitched his antenna. But of course Virdia had been the last to enfold him in her arms…not dwelling on the thought any longer, he wrapped his arms around Dolores. It felt good to hold someone like this again.

 

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