Season 3

Part 1: New Blood

The gravel crunches under the tires as the production vans pull up to the estate.

You already know this look.

Drone shots and all. 

Wide driveway.

Towering trees.

A house built to impress.

Impeccable landscaping. 

The kind of place reality TV loves.

White pillars frame the front entrance of the mansion. Tall windows reflect the late afternoon sun. From the outside, it feels like a dream venue for weddings and weekend getaways.

Inside though, something presses heavy against your chest.

Not fear.

Anticipation of what’s to come.

You’ve been on reality television long enough to know how moments are manufactured.

How silence gets stretched.

How reactions get repeated.

How tension is edited into existence.

How the music tells you what to feel. 

Some people think letting cameras follow your investigations means you sold out.

What they don’t see is that you did it to protect the work.

To keep the paranormal from turning into cheap scares.

To keep it honest.

If such a thing is even possible anymore. 

Your first showrunner believed in that.

They trusted real experiences. Let the unknown unfold without forcing it.

Season one felt raw. 

It had integrity. 

Season two even more so.

Then the network shifted to streaming.

And season three came with changes.

The biggest change you spot immediately before even knowing what he looks like.

Cole Wilder.

He stands near the front steps, headset on, already talking about camera angles.

A man whose career was built on reality dating dramas and emotional cliffhangers.

Roses.

Eliminations.

Perfect bump outs timed for commercials.

Now he’s running a paranormal investigation show.

He flashes you a confident grin.

His veneers obnoxiously glisten at you. 

“This place is gorgeous,” he says. “Viewers are gonna eat it up.”

You nod politely.

Kit steps beside you, eyes scanning the house.

“Do you feel that?” she whispers.

Sam is already setting up equipment behind you, mumbling to himself.

It’s cute.

He doesn’t like change and does it when he’s nervous.

You don’t answer right away, but you know Kit is right. 

Because the feeling is growing.

Pressure almost.

There IS something here. 

Like walking into a room where a conversation just stopped.

Kit and Sam make the production day bearable. 

Plucked for the show from a local investigation team.

They are the real deal. 

Cole claps his hands and grabs his megaphone. 

Of course he has one. 

“Alright team let’s bring it in!”

He nods to his line producer.

She starts handing out packets to everyone.

“Welcome to Season 3 folks! My name is Cole. I prefer Mr. Wilder, but if you must, Cole is fine.”

Kit shoots me a look as if wanting to say something. 

You motion to her that it’s ok. 

“The packet you’re all holding in your hands for episode one are the shots we need to get each day. We will start with interviewing the owner of Greystone Manor. Of course, he claims there are real ghosts here. Right, yeah.”

He raises the packet into the air. 

“With this, we will definitely get what we need. Questions?”

You finally speak.

“We’ve never needed something like this before. People love the show because we have an authentic approach to the paranormal.”

Cole chuckles. “Real scares are great. But moments are better.”

As the crew starts grabbing gear from the trucks, you catch what looks like a groundskeeper watching from the edge of the lawn.

You walk over.

Introduce yourself. 

He says his name is Fred. 

“Can you tell me if you’ve ever experienced anything here?” you ask quietly.

He hesitates.

Then shrugs like someone who’s learned not to talk about it. 

Or who has been asked not to talk about it. 

“Depends what you mean by happened,” he says. “People fall. People hear things. See things. Folks wander off during events and don’t remember how they got there.”

He points over to Cole and a man walking up to shake his hand. 

“You should ask him?”

“Who?”

“Oh the guy they hired you to interview… I just own the place.”

Your mouth drops. 

He looks at you with a smile and starts walking away. 

You yell out to him. 

“Wait, why aren’t we interviewing you?”

He stops. 

Slowly looks back over his shoulder. 

“Look kid, I was a fan of the show. I thought you of all people could help us here.”

He starts walking away and mumbles, “Now I’m not so sure anymore.”

End of Part 1.

***

Part 2: Notes for the Show

(You chose: Decide to take a tour of the grounds by yourself while everyone is distracted, but not without confronting Cole about the hired actor first.)

Cole is already talking when you walk back toward the group.

Something about lighting.

Something about pacing.

Something about how long a reaction should last.

You start to feel the fire under your skin.

You think to yourself… this guy.

You wait until he notices you standing there.

He pulls the megaphone down slowly, like a performer finishing a monologue.

“Everything good?” he asks with that fake smile.

“Not exactly,” you say. “Why are we interviewing an actor instead of the property owner?”

Cole chuckles to himself.

Takes a moment to look down at the ground before stepping closer.

The smile fades.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and looks you right in the eyes.

You know this game.

“Because stories need structure,” he says. “Audiences connect better when there’s a narrative.”

“There already is one,” you reply. “The man who owns this place asked for help.”

Cole sighs like you’re being difficult.

“Look, I respect what you do,” he says. “But this is television now. We guide the experience.”

“You mean control it.”

He shrugs. “Same thing, different wording.”

You glance back toward the mansion.

“People have been getting hurt here,” you say, demanding answers.

Cole leans closer so the crew can’t hear.

“Accidents and strange things happen everywhere, but we don’t have hours to sit around twiddling our thumbs in the dark,” he says. “Are you going to cue the ghost? Pay the crew for overtime? Plus, fear sells when it feels personal.”

Something about the way he says sells makes your stomach turn.

“Look, when filming is over you’ll move on to your next job,” you say. “But for me, this work matters. We have people counting on us in this field to maintain integrity. We have the ability to help the owner. To discover something new.”

“Oh c’mon,” he answers. “You can’t honestly believe that. You do realize we’re talking about a couple ghost stories, right? But I love it. I love the passion. Save it for your OTF.”

He winks and drops his hand from your shoulder before walking off toward the camera crew.

It’s clear that whatever you do here might have to be separate from the show.

This guy can’t be trusted to portray you or the team properly.

There’s no winning this conversation today.

You decide to do some exploring of your own.

Blow off some steam.

The grounds stretch far beyond the mansion.

Rolling lawns give way to old trees.

Stone pathways half-swallowed by moss.

A small garden with a dedicated bench.

It has a charm to it.

You hear footsteps running up behind you.

Kit joins you first.

“This place feels louder the farther you get from the house. How are you feeling about this Cole guy?” she says.

Sam trails behind with equipment, muttering about EMF spikes that keep blinking and settling.

“I think he’s too Hollywood and we can’t trust him,” you say. “So I say we make him wait a minute and explore on our own.”

They both smile at you, accepting your offer.

You follow a narrow trail toward the back of the property.

The air changes again.

And you notice a thick fog hovering just above the grass.

You pass an old family plot and gravestones tucked beneath massive oak trees.

A fountain sits dry beside it.

Kit stops suddenly.

“Did you hear that?”

You listen.

Nothing but wind through leaves.

Sam checks his monitor.

“It just jumped,” he says. “Like something passed right in front of it.”

“An animal?” you offer.

He shakes his head.

“Too fast,” Sam says. “And too close.”

The EMF reader blinks once more, then settles.

Suddenly, the three of you hear an older woman’s voice behind you.

“Well, there are three of you out here, but it only takes one of me to know you’re up to no good.”

You all spin around.

A woman stands at the edge of the stone path. Late fifties, maybe early sixties. Practical clothes.

A sundress paired with mud on her boots, like she actually works the land.

Not startled.

Not amused.

Just watching.

“I’m Maren,” she says. “I manage the estate.”

Kit exhales slowly.

“You scared the hell out of us.”

Maren smiles. “That does happen a lot around here.”

Kit shoots you a look. “You weren’t at the production meeting.”

Maren walks closer. “I wasn’t invited.”

You introduce yourselves.

“I heard you out here in the courtyard with your devices,” she says. “I was hoping you would look into it yourselves.”

There’s something in her voice. Relief, maybe.

“You’ve seen things happen here?” you ask.

She nods slowly.

“Not like the stories they’re planning to tell,” she says, glancing toward the mansion where the camera crew and crane operate in the distance. “But real things.”

She gestures around the property.

“People wander off during events. End up here in the courtyard, or in the woods, or in rooms they swear they never went into. Room 204 is a popular one. And by popular, I mean no one can last a night there. Which is unfortunate, because it’s our honeymoon suite. It’s hurting Fred’s business.”

Her demeanor fades to concern.

“You know, this property has been in Fred’s family for years. My grandmother grew up just around the corner. She used to say this land takes advantage of people. Something about their sins deserving the torture.”

Maren walks over to the rose bushes.

“Leaving out fresh flowers is the only thing I’ve found that helps keep the place calmer. Especially, when strangers and parties come onto the property.”

She starts to walk back toward the house.

“I’ll be around if you need me.”

The fog drifts slowly across the grass.

She pauses and looks down at it.

“I can see the house is curious about you. That can either be a good thing or a bad thing, I guess.”

Suddenly, one of the production assistants runs around the corner.

“Cole said he’s ready for you.”

He disappears again.

The three of you look at each other.

End of Part 2.

***

Part 3: The Interview

(You chose: Start filming and see if activity increases when the house has attention. Instagram vote won by 5.)

You glance at Kit and Sam.

“We should head back,” you say quietly. 

“If we’re going to do this, we do it on camera. I’m not saying we can convince Cole of anything, but from what Fred and Maren have described, activity seems to ramp up whenever they have events or guests here.”

Neither of them argue.

The front of the mansion is already lit when you return. Cables snake across the stone steps. A camera operator adjusts framing while Cole paces, headset crooked, rehearsing beats under his breath.

Krista, the PA, jogs up to Cole and the group with a clipboard.

“Just confirming,” Cole says before she can speak. “The house is clear?”

She nods immediately. “Completely. I ran through it twice. No staff, no crew. Just our sound guy inside with his boom over the doorframe.”

You look past her.

The front door of the mansion looms behind the cameras. Closed. Waiting.

Cole claps his hands.

“Alright, people! Let’s set this up. Fred, you’ll open the door when I cue you. Nice and welcoming. We want charming, but haunted.”

The man playing Fred—clean-cut, mid-forties, a suit—nods a little too enthusiastically.

Not sure if the suit was necessary.

The real Fred has jeans and a shirt jacket. 

You like Fred. 

The camera rolls.

“Action.”

The door opens.

“Hello,” Fred says.

Cole squints. “Cut! Again. Less stiff.”

The door closes.

It opens again.

“Hello, we are so happy you could make it,” Fred says, smiling wider.

Cole sighs. “Cut! One more. Looser. Like you actually live here.”

The door closes.

Kit and Sam shoot you a look. 

You whisper under your breath, “Yeah, sorry guys I just found out and forgot to tell you. Apparently, he is a hired actor playing the role of Fred.”

Kit’s cheeks immediately turn red, her mouth drops followed by “What the -“

Interrupted by Cole calling, “Action!”

She decides to compose herself. 

No longer looking very happy to see “Fred.”

Sam just keeps staring at you. Confused. 

But before you can respond, you feel something.

A weird downward pressure. Like the house exhaling.

The door opens a third time.

“Hello—”

A scream rips through the house.

High.
Female.
Raw.

Everyone freezes.

Then—

CRASH.

Something heavy slams to the floor upstairs. Glass, maybe. Wood. Something breaking.

The sound echoes down the stairwell.

Cole rips his headset off. “Jesus Christ—Krista, I thought you said everyone was out of the house?”

Krista goes pale. “They are. I swear. I checked every room.”

Cole rolls his eyes hard. “Unbelievable.”

He turns back to the cameras. “Okay. I think we have what we need. Let’s pivot.”

He points at you. “You guys walk in. Fred—‘owner’—tell them why you reached out. Activity escalating, events triggering it, whatever.”

The camera stays rolling.

Fred swallows. You can see his jaw tighten.

He steps forward, slipping back into character.

“Whenever we host events here,” he starts, “the activity seems to increase. Sounds. Doors. Inhuman figures dancing in the dark. Things moving—”

A door slams upstairs.

Not a crash this time.

A deliberate slam.

The sound crew stiffens. One of the camera operators mutters under their breath.

Cole slowly turns to Krista.

She shakes her head immediately. “I swear. No one is upstairs.”

Fred breaks.

His face drains of color.

He looks at Cole, then at you.

“This is all part of the production… right?” he asks. “This isn’t—this isn’t real, is it?”

The house settles into silence.

The cameras keep rolling.

End of Part 3.

***

Part 4: Don’t Cut

(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.

End of Part 4.

***

Part 5: What the House Keeps

(You chose: Call out for Kit and move deeper into the house. Cameras or not, your only priority is finding her.)

You turn away from Room 204.

Every instinct tells you not to.

But Kit is missing.

And whatever this house is doing, it isn’t finished showing you.

Cole yells out, “Cut! Just cut…” and starts talking to his Assistant Producer. 

You quickly signal Charlie. He notices and sneaks away with you.

Still rolling.

You move deeper into the mansion.

The hallway opens into a side corridor you didn’t notice before. It leads back downstairs. A spiral staircase tucked away. Service stairs.

The light shifts. Softer. Older. The house almost prefers this direction.

That’s where you run into them.

Maren stands near the archway that leads to the courtyard doors.

Fred — the REAL Fred — beside her.

Concern etched into his face.

“You felt it too,” Maren says. Not a question.

You nod.

Fred still doesn’t fully trust you and looks only toward Maren. 

“We can’t expect the house to act any differently,” he says. “We have a new crowd of people here. It’s curious.”

He rubs his hands together, drops them by his side in defeat.

“We are getting a bad reputation here. Canceled bookings. Especially with the activity in Room 204. I can’t say I’ve ever had an experience, but it’s obvious you and others have.”

You ask about Room 204.

Maren’s jaw clenches. She almost looks annoyed to have to deal with you.

“That room was never meant to be a honeymoon suite,” she says. “We renamed it years later. Tried to make it something lighter.”

She looks toward the ceiling.

“But the night before the wedding… that was his room. The groom. He drank too much. Wandered outside. Fell into a sinkhole near the old family plot. The ground collapsed inward.”

Fred swallows and finally looks you in the eyes almost ashamed. “They found him the next morning.”

No one speaks for a moment.

Then Sam’s voice crackles over the radio.

“I found Kit… in the courtyard.”

Maren shoots you a look, “What does he mean FOUND?”

“Copy,” you say. “Headed to you.”

You look at Maren and Fred with sympathy. 

Sympathy for their situation. 

For what happened in this house.

You almost plead with them both, “Come with us, you might be able to help.”

You all move fast.

The courtyard is washed in late afternoon light. Kit stands near the edge of the grass, barefoot, staring down into a shallow depression in the ground… the remnants of where the earth once gave way.

She turns when she hears you.

“She doesn’t want anyone in the room,” Kit says. “She’s not angry. She just misses him.”

Kit’s channeling you’ve never really gotten used to. 

You immediately get goosebumps. 

The wind picks up around you for a moment. 

Her hair swirls upward.

Like witchcraft.

“She wants to preserve the night before it all went wrong,” Kit adds.

Sam’s device that has been sweeping through background static comes to life and suddenly speaks, “Isabelle.”

Maren and Fred exchange a look - recognition hitting at the same time. Like they know the name. 

Maren speaks, “Can we ask that device questions?”

You nod. “It’s not a certainty, but sometimes it helps.”

She starts, “Ask it if her fiancé’s name was-.”

“Charles,” Charlie says quietly.

Sam’s EMF detector blares! 

Charlie pans down with his camera to the lights of the pod frantically going off. 

Maren shocked, “Yes, Charles. But how did you-“

Charlie looks from Maren to you. 

“Well, when we were upstairs near Room 204, something touched me which you witnessed,” he says, nearly blushing. “But then I heard a woman whisper ‘Charles’ in my ear.”

Kit lets out a small laugh, then quickly tries to compose herself. 

You do the same wondering if you have ever seen his face turn that color before. 

Also, mentally bookmarking the moment to tease him about later.

Fred speaks before you can. 

“You know, it never did make sense to me before,” he says. “Isabelle… last I heard, she was still alive.” 

Maren nods slowly and chimes in.

“Yes, but I think the memory holds a place here. You know the expression, leaving a piece of yourself behind. Maybe their love did that. It would explain why fresh flowers calm the house.”

Fred looks at you now.

“So what can we do?”

Your answer comes easier than expected.

“I think we should try to make contact with Charles in Room 204.”

Everyone agrees. 

Upstairs again.

At the end of the hall, Cole stands with actor Fred.

His hand rests on the actor’s shoulder.

“Yes, it’s all part of the script,” Cole says. “All we need is for you to tell the story of Room 204. We’ll call the episode ‘Til Death Do Us Part. Really play up the vibe of their unwavering love.”

As you lead the group down the hall, the frustration behind you is palpable. You motion for them to keep cool, signaling that you’ll take the lead.

You look at Charlie, “Just keep rolling and let me handle Cole.”

Charlie runs ahead and starts the camera shot on the actor signally to second cam to pick up the hallway shot. 

Maren and Fred drop back out of frame. 

You step into the shot. “Fred!” you call out, closing the distance between you. “That woman’s voice seems to travel everywhere. Kit and Sam picked up a recording of an ‘Isabelle.’ Does that name mean anything to you?”

The actor quickly gathers himself after Cole nods with approval. “Yes,” he says. “If you step inside Room 204, I can explain what happened here. A truly tragic story.” 

You feel it as soon as you cross the threshold. 

It hits you immediately.

Kit’s hand clamps onto your arm as she stumbles, her own face mirroring the sudden nausea written on yours.

“You okay?” The actor asks.

“Yes,” you reply. “Just… heavy.”

He launches into his monologue with sweeping, theatrical gestures, as if the dusty room were a Broadway stage. 

“Twenty years ago this month!” he proclaims. “The night before the wedding. It was the talk of the town—even the mayor was on the guest list. Two prominent families, joined at last! To be wed: the beautiful Isabelle Wentworth and the town's most eligible bachelor, Charles Madison.”

Kit rolls her eyes.

Sam, under his breath to you, “Hey, sorry man, both my devices just died.”

Charlie adds, “Yeah, sorry, camera’s yelling at me too. We need to take a moment so I can swap batteries.” 

You glance at Cole for the call to cut.

He looks pale. Distant.

Unresponsive, you decide to nudge him, “Cole,” you say. “We need a minute.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Cut,” he mutters.

Charlie calls it, “Cutting! Just give me five.”

You step toward Cole.

“You okay?”

“Yeah—no, I'm good,” he says too quickly. “Hey, how did you make the batteries do that all at once? And that voice earlier. Did you hide a speaker or something in the closet? Good call on that. Really smooth. Really smooth.”

He won’t meet your gaze. 

His response is unexpected, but you lean into it.

“Eventually, you are going to have to believe me. Sometimes weird things happen.”

Charlie calls, “Okay, I’m up. Rolling.” 

You take charge.

“Action.”

Sam’s device fires up, scanning through the static as the man’s voice emerges again, “Isabelle… is that you?”

Kit steps forward, “Yes. I’m here!”

The actor looks visibly spooked in this moment. 

Sweat droplets start to form on his face. 

The voice answers.

“My love… I’m so sorry.” Static crackles. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

Kit responds gently.

“You’re not late. Isabelle is with you. She always was and will be.”

Suddenly, a large surge is felt through your body.

Sam’s EMF detector screams.

The actor collapses into a chair, unable to push through his fear.

A sharp pop echoes through the room.

Everyone grabs their ears. 

Charlie almost drops his camera. 

Then silence.

Maren and Fred step into the doorway. 

The room feels lighter.

The pressure lifts. 

You turn to the actor, fanning himself with his script.

“I think it might be best to close this room for a little while.”

He nods, shaken.

You turn and notice Maren and Fred in the doorframe.

Maren shapes a silent 'thank you' with her lips. Beside her, Fred nods in agreement, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“And rename it,” you add. “Let it rest as what it was. Not what people wanted it to be.”

Later, as the crew packs up, Cole doesn’t say much.

He sits alone outside, megaphone in his hands.

This isn’t the season he planned.

But it’s the one that will stay with him.

Before you leave, Fred stops you.

“Thank you.”

You smile. “We were meant to be here, I guess.”

As you walk away, he calls out, “Oh and in case you were wondering… I’m still a fan of the show.” 

You give him a final wave before getting into the production van.

End of Story 11.