(You chose: Tell Cole not to cut and ask “Fred” to take you upstairs. Let the house respond while everything is documented.)

At this point, you’re all gathered inside the foyer.

You read the room for a moment.

Your eyes land on Cole.

“Don’t cut,” you say.

He blinks at you, clearly annoyed. “What?”

“Don’t cut,” you repeat. “This is what you wanted, right? Perfect for your bump-out to commercial. Let’s see what the house does.”

The crew goes quiet.

The tension is unmistakable.

The cameras are still rolling.

Sound stays in place.

Cole hesitates just long enough for the silence to stretch.

Then he exhales sharply. “Fine. Whatever. Keep it rolling.”

You can tell it irritates him to agree with you at all.

You glance at first camera—Charlie.

He’s been with you and the team every season.

A friend. Someone you trust.

He gives you a subtle nod.

You turn to Fred.

He’s sweating now.

The charm is gone.

He fumbles in his pocket and pulls out a crumpled script, gripping it like a lifeline.

You take a slow breath.

“Take us upstairs,” you say calmly.

Fred swallows.

“You… you want me to—”

“Yes,” you say. “You were just explaining what happens when activity escalates.”

Kit shifts closer to you.

Sam’s EMF reader ticks once.

Then again.

“It looks like whatever you’ve been dealing with knows we’re here,” you add, keeping your voice steady.

You meet Fred’s eyes, offering reassurance.

“Maybe we start where we heard the crash.”

Fred nods too quickly.

“Y-yeah. Sure. This way.”

He closes the front door and gestures toward the stairs.

The house changes the moment you begin to ascend.

Charlie leads ahead of you.

Behind you, Sam’s meter ticks again. And again.

The staircase curves upward, polished wood dulled by time. Framed photographs line the walls—generations of the family who actually owns this place.

Real Fred’s lineage.

Smiling faces. Weddings. Milestones.

Memories hanging quietly in the hall.

And you can’t shake the feeling that the walls remember something else entirely.

Fred finds a bit of confidence again.

“Like I was saying… whenever we host events, things start happening. Sounds. Movement. Doors opening on their own—”

A sound interrupts him.

Not a scream.

A woman’s voice.

Faint.

Almost conversational.

Coming from somewhere around you.

Fred stops.

The cameras keep rolling.

The boom mic dips slightly.

Cole mutters, “Reaction. Come on—everyone heard that. Let’s get some reaction.”

Fred immediately obliges, fear tightening his throat. “Oh! What was that?!”

You don’t answer.

Because the voice comes again.

Clearer now.

Not loud.

Not aggressive.

Just… present.

Kit grabs her head suddenly, like a wave of pain hits her.

At the same time, Charlie yelps and lowers his camera.

“What the hell—!”

He hops back, shaking his shoulders.

“Something just touched my back!”

Sam’s meter starts blaring.

You reach out, steadying Kit with a hand on her shoulder.

Cole signals second cam to stay tight.

“Kit,” he says, “can you tell us what you’re feeling right now?”

No one answers.

Charlie’s on-camera light cuts out.

Second cam follows.

Cole frowns, confused.

Then the hallway lights flicker.

Once.

Twice.

And then—

A door down the hall creaks open.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Intentional.

The sound echoes far longer than it should.

Fred backs into the railing.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” he whispers.

Cole stares up the staircase, pale now. Jaw tight.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay. No one touch anything.”

You take the first step toward the open door.

Charlie’s camera comes back up, tracking you.

Behind you, he mutters, “I’ve seen a lot with you… but this isn’t normal.”

You glance back once.

At the crew.

At Cole.

At control slipping through his fingers.

“You wanted a haunting,” you say. “This is one.”

The woman’s voice speaks again.

Inaudible.

But deeper this time.

Heavier.

As you reach the doorway, a plaque catches your eye:

Room 204 – The Gilded Honeymoon Suite

You call out, “Kit—come here. Tell me if you feel anything.”

No answer.

You turn.

She’s gone.