Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Mary Mae! ❯ Mary Mae! ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or the characters. The plot is mine, which should be evident. Thanks to Alex for beta reading! Notes: Winner of the Halloween Challenge at the Fanfiction Archives and participant of the Halloween Howl challenge on SDQB.   Mary Mae!   “…And then she ran from the house into the woods, screaming as the master’s ghost chased her,” Duo continued in his best suspenseful voice. “She tried to flee, but she was dragged back into the house. The master’s overseer was fiercely loyal. He was determined his master’s wishes be done. He locked Mary Mae inside the mansion and sat on the porch for three days, listening to the ghost throw objects around the house and listening to her slowly going insane. On the third night, he heard everything go silent. He went inside and searched all the floors but all he could find was a wreck of a house. He headed down to the basement. He had to go all way in the back to where the wine was stored, and he found her body swinging from the noose. He turned to go, but as he did, he saw the door shutting. The last image he saw was of Mary Mae’s ghost shutting the door in vengeance, for he had condemned her to death in the house. He went to open the door, but it was locked from the outside.      “When the sheriff came to investigate, he concluded that the overseer had killed Mary Mae for her sin against the master. She was hanging in a way where she could not have done it herself; it was not suicide. He declared that the door must have shut accidentally, killing the murderer. But the people of the town know better. The three ghosts come back to haunt, telling their stories of love, betrayal, and murder.”      “Shut up, Duo,” Quatre commanded. “You won’t scare me with your stupid ghost stories.” The boys picked their path through the graveyard on their way to the supposed haunted house. Duo insisted this was the best thing to do for Halloween (the spirits were supposedly stronger and more violent on this day).      “It’s a true story,” he insisted.      “Then how do you know what the overseer saw as the door was closing? How do know what the sheriff concluded was wrong?”      “The ghosts!” continued Duo. “They come back and tell their stories. That’s how we know.”      Quatre rolled his eyes. “Sure, Duo, the ‘ghosts’ told you.” He trudged through the graveyard and felt something hot trickle down the back of his neck. “Cut it out!” He waved his hand over the back of his neck and sent his friend a nasty look.      “It wasn’t me,” he declared, but his guilty expression said otherwise.      “How much farther is it?”      “Not too much. Oh, here it is.” He pointed out the large house, which oddly enough appeared old only by style, not by wear. While the place had been vacated for centuries, it was clear someone was caring for it.      They entered the house with a short glance at the porch where the overseer supposedly spent three days and two nights. Duo seemed to get more excited, and Quatre guessed he was thinking of possible ways to scare him. He started taking deep, controlled breaths so that the other boy would not even startle him. Duo suggested they search the ground floor to start. They entered what appeared to be a sun room. There was a couch pushed up against a bay window with a litter of chairs facing it. A small shelf held a dozen novels for light reading.      “This was Mary Mae’s favorite room,” Duo informed. He smirked at the blonde and walked around easily, sticking his hands in his pockets. “She’d lie on the couch reading one of her favorite novels as the sun warmed her body. They say she still does—minus the body thing of course.” Quatre stood where he entered watching Duo pace the room. His eyes went to the books and pondered the titles on the spines. He deduced that Jane Eyre must have been her favorite given how creased the spine was in comparison to the others. Duo suddenly started to walk agitatedly. He seemed almost nervous. He looked around the room and back to Quatre, or rather past him      “You’re right. This was stupid. Let’s just go home,” he said fairly shakily.      Quatre smirked and nearly rolled his eyes. “You’re not buying your own crap, are you? And acting all nervous isn’t going to scare me either. Let’s just look through the house—to prove it’s not haunted—and then go home.”      Duo relaxed and smiled easily once more. “Fine, but we’re not going down the basement. It’s the scene of a murder if nothing else. Let’s split up. We can cover more ground faster.”      “Has something made the infamous Duo Maxwell afraid?” teased Quatre.      “Of course not,” he assured with a grin. He turned, and as he got to the other doorway, he muttered under his breath, “Even I don’t like to test spirits.”      Quatre shook his head with a smile at his friend. He reentered the foyer and crossed it to enter an office. There were no books in this room, only a desk, a couple of chairs, and a stack of papers. He noticed shelves, so presumably there had been books. He wondered why the books were missing in here and why they were still present in the sun room. That room had a first edition Jane Eyre!      He shrugged this off and went to peek at the stack of papers left behind. They seemed to be bills. There was one for fifty dollars from a store called Socialite’s Delight, and under it was one for a hundred dollars for a dress made by Jenny at Jenny’s Dresses.      He frowned as the rest of the papers fell onto the floor. He took a step to bend down but stopped when he felt a wispy breath on the back of his neck. He swiped behind his neck.      “Cut it out, Duo,” he growled.      “What?” called Duo from across the house.      “Nothing,” he yelled back. He looked up to the ceiling and saw the cobwebs. One must have fallen onto him. While that may have comforted some, but the thought of a cobweb on him made Quatre shiver. He decided it was best to move on to the next room.      The next room must have been where the gentlemen retired after dinner when the weather was ill for sitting on the porch. He could still smell the cigar smoke; they must have burnt through a lot of cigars. The wallpaper was peeling slightly, and it had a dark tint to it from the smoke. He ran his hand over the chairs that were once covered in luxurious velvet. He sat in one of the chairs and gazed around the room. He noticed a brandy glass still sitting on the table. It should have been sold, taken away, or, at least, put away in all these years. He picked it up and became perplexed when he saw a water ring left on the table from the glass. He brought it to his nose and sniffed, smelling fresh brandy. That meant some had to be stored nearby!      He stood and looked for the cupboard. The cigar smell started to get to him, and he coughed. Casually placing the glass on the table, he walked over and opened the cupboard. There were still bottles with various levels of liquid in them. His eyes ran over the labels. Unsurprisingly, he did not know the makers. They were long gone. He grabbed a random bottle and almost dropped it when he started coughing. They must have hung around the cupboard because the smell was highly concentrated there. He shook his head as his eyes started to water.      He grabbed another glass and sat back in a chair. He poured himself a glass and took a sip. He could not believe how shaken he was. He hated cobwebs, but they had never made his hand tremble. It must have been that damn story. It somehow got to him, despite his precautions. However, the brandy calmed his nerves. Now, Duo would not have the satisfaction of knowing how he unnerved him. As he took his second sip, he sputtered it out. He had another coughing fit and realized that the smell was not just concentrated by the cupboard. It was getting stronger, more concentrated in the whole room. He stood, and his coughing got worse by the minute. His eyes were full of tears, and he staggered in part of his blurred vision and also in part of his coughing. By the time he got to the door, it felt like he would retch any moment. He coughed so hard that he gagged a little with each one. There were sharp pains throughout his throat.      Just when he thought he would pass out from the invisible smoke, he stumbled into the next room. He had one last, small coughing fit. Into his hand, he coughed some black, gooey substance. He sneered at it and flung it on the floor. He decided he did not want to know what it was exactly. He wiped his hand off on his pants and noticed he was shaking again. He reasoned it was probably from all the heavy coughing. He looked back at the cigar room. His glass of brandy was on the floor next to its spilt contents where he must have dropped it; the bottle sat on the table in clear view.      He determinedly turned his back and looked at this new room. He saw the same plush chairs, pushed in all sorts of directions. He would have investigated this and the rest of the room, but a hot breath trickled down his neck, and it felt like someone blew cigar smoke down it. Was a spirit’s favorite trick a breath down the back of the neck? He thought it was quite ridiculous how many times he had felt breath on his neck in the last hour or so. He shook his head as another breath rolled down his back with a slight hissing as if from someone with a stutter.      “Duo! I’m done down here. I’m heading upstairs,” Quatre announced in a loud voice. He still did not want Duo to know he got to him. He bolted for the stairs and met Duo there. They both took deep breaths and climbed the stairs, heading in opposite directions once at the top. Quatre almost wished one of them would just be the chicken and get them to leave, but at the same time, he knew it would not be him. He was tired of being the butt of Duo’s jokes.      He entered a woman’s bedroom. A handheld mirror, a brush, some hair clips, and other feminine beautifying products lay on a dresser and vanity. There was an outfit lying on the bed: the outfit Mary Mae refused to wear. He could understand why she refused. It was a very skimpy, immodest thing. He walked around the room trying to imagine what life was like when the house was in full use. He could see where the maids would have sat while Mary Mae or another mistress would explain her demands. The temperature of the air rose and a smoke started to sting his eyes.      “Mary Mae!” bellowed a voice too deep to belong to his friend. “Mary Mae!” Quatre looked around the room. Either his mind was playing tricks on him, or someone else was hiding in the house. “Mary Mae!” Quatre shook his head and headed to the door.      “Duo, do you hear that?” he asked as his friend appeared across the way in another doorway.      “Yeah, I thought it was you.”      “You think my voice is that deep?”      Duo shrugged. “It could be Rashid acting on your orders.”      “Well, it’s not me…or Rashid.”      “It sounds like it’s coming from down the hall,” Duo pointed out. They both agreed to investigate the noise. Walking down the corridor, the boards squeaked and groaned. Some even gave way to their weight a little; no one must have walked on them in years. “They’ll support our weight,” Duo assured.      Quatre nodded and reached for the doorknob. As he opened the door, a wave of dust assaulted them. The boys started coughing, which caused more pain to Quatre. It did not last long, however, and they were able to enter the room soon after.      It was another bedroom, and a quite simple one at that. A massive bed sat against the wall. There was a dresser with nothing on it and a couple of chairs as well. The room was quite bare besides those.      “Mary Mae!” the voice came again.      “I think it’s coming from the closet,” Quatre said, pointing to it. They walked across the room. They stirred up dust with each step, so they covered their noses and mouths with their sleeves. They got to the closet and glanced at each other.      “Well, this is it,” Duo said. “You can do it.”      “You’re the one who found the house.”      “Yeah, but I won’t be greedy.”      “Er, thanks,” Quatre muttered. It really did not matter who opened the door anyway as they were standing side-by-side. He opened the door a skeleton fell nearly on top of them. The boys yelped in surprise and hopped in opposite directions, getting out of its way. They paused, looked at the skeleton, then looked at each other, and started laughing.      “Man,” Duo laughed. “I never thought a stupid skeleton would scare me like that.”      “It just startled us,” Quatre reasoned. He turned, still grinning, when he heard something banging in the closet.      “Mary Mae!” The boys leaned into the closet searching intently for the source. “Mary Mae!” Their eyes widened as the hanging clothes started to rattle. They tilted more forward and cried out as a brilliant flash blinded their eyes. They stumbled backward cursing the source but stopped once they heard giggling. They rubbed their eyes, and when they finally could see straight, they did not see a ghost. Instead, they found two giggling girls, Hilde and Sylvia. Hilde held a camera, Sylvia held a voice manipulator, and both were laughing hysterically.      “I can’t wait to see the picture,” Hilde gasped. “Maybe I’ll make it the Christmas card picture this year.”      “Hey! That’s not funny,” declared Duo, though he wore a grin. At least he could laugh at himself.      “Was this all you two?” questioned Quatre, smiling as well.      “Yes,” they answered in unison.      “I decided to trick Duo this year so I wouldn’t have to deal with severed body parts, spiders, and other freaky things all day,” Hilde explained. “I got one of his junkyard buddies to tell him the ghost story and the location of the place….”      “My family owns this house, and it came with the legend,” Sylvia informed. “But I’ve never seen or heard the ghost.”      “There’re some loose boards, so we dropped cobwebs on you in the office.” Hilde nodded toward Quatre.      “Then we had water drip down your back in the kitchen,” Sylvia said with a look to Duo.      “How’d you do the gentleman’s entertaining room?”      “—and the dining room?”      “Oh, well, my grandfather kept the old bottles of alcohol and put them in storage. I cleared out the room of all modern things and set the bottles back in the cupboard. Then I had a drink and left the glass in there so it would leave a water ring,” Sylvia said proudly.      “We both had dinner in the dining room, and we didn’t clean up the crumbs or scraps,” Hilde explained.      “I meant how did you raise the temperature of just that room without running the heater? It felt like I was the turkey baking!” Duo exclaimed.      “Yeah and how did you make the cigar smoke rise up like there were hundreds of them burning in the room?” added Quatre. “And how did you blow the smoke down my neck?”      The girls frowned. “That wasn’t us. We saw you coughing and sweating, but there wasn’t any smoke or heat waves. You two were just pulling our legs. Stop joking.”      “Why would be pulling your legs when we didn’t even know you two were doing this?” Quatre pointed out. Hilde and Sylvia looked to each other.      “Mary Mae!” a deep voice, different from the voice manipulator, sounded from an unknown origin. The four jumped.      “Did you hide another thing?” asked Duo.      “No,” the girls said.      “Mary Mae!” boomed the voice. Heavy footsteps walked up the stairs and down the hall. The doorknob started jiggling. “Mary Mae!” They screamed, and the girls ran out a hidden door. The boys doubled over in laughter. The door opened as Trowa entered holding another voice manipulator.      “How’d it go?” he asked with a smirk.      “Wonderful!” Duo exclaimed. “They never should have tried to prank us!”      “‘Messing with the masters?’” asked Quatre.      “We all did our part,” Duo said. “That was brilliant, deciding to act like there was smoke and heat in those rooms, Quatre.”      “I had some help,” Quatre said and looked to Trowa, who made a simple bow. Duo walked over to a picture frame and pulled it back, extracting a hidden camera.      “Like Hilde said, I think we have a new picture for the Christmas card.”