I want to write a mysterious spooky story. come up with some ideas...

Question

GPT-4o mini · Answer

Sure! Here are several ideas for a mysterious, spooky story:

The Abandoned Hotel: A group of friends decides to explore an old, abandoned hotel rumored to be haunted. They find an old diary in one of the rooms that tells the story of a guest who vanished without a trace. As they delve deeper into the hotel, they start to experience strange occurrences, and soon, one by one, they begin to disappear, leaving the others to unravel the mystery or face the same fate.
The Whispers in the Woods: A small village is surrounded by dense, dark woods known for strange whispers that can be heard at night. The townspeople avoid the area, believing it to be cursed. When a curious child ventures into the woods and goes missing, their brave sibling sets out to find them, uncovering the truth about the whispers and the entities that dwell within the trees.
The Portraits of Maple Manor: Inherited from a distant relative, a young woman moves into an old manor filled with portraits of its previous owners, all of whom died under mysterious circumstances. As she begins to restore the house, she notices that the portraits seem to change slightly each day. She soon discovers that the souls of the portrait subjects are trapped within, and they are trying to communicate with her to warn her of a dark fate.
The Lighthouse Keeper's Legacy: A coastal town is haunted by the spirit of a former lighthouse keeper who mysteriously disappeared years ago. When a new lighthouse keeper arrives, strange phenomena begin to occur—flickering lights, ghostly ships appearing in the fog, and the sound of a foghorn echoing at night. The keeper investigates the history of the lighthouse and uncovers a hidden tragedy that ties their fate to the keeper’s ghost.
The Dollmaker’s Curse: A struggling artist discovers a box of antique dolls made by a famous but reclusive dollmaker. The dolls seem charming at first, but soon the artist realizes they have a sinister quality: they move slightly when left alone. The artist learns that each doll contains the spirit of a child who met a tragic end, and they seek revenge on those responsible for their untimely demise.
The Clock Tolling Midnight: In a small town, an old clock tower has a reputation for tolling at strange hours and predicting disasters. People believe that hearing the clock toll at midnight means someone will die soon. When it tolls one night, a local journalist decides to investigate, uncovering a web of secrets involving the town's founders, cult-like rituals, and a hidden treasure tied to the clock's strange powers.
The Echo of the Forgotten: An isolated village is known for its peculiar echo—residents claim that it can repeat not only sounds but also feelings and memories. When a newcomer arrives and begins to experience visions of past tragedies from the village’s history, they realize that the echo serves as a conduit for the spirits of those who suffered, and they must find a way to put them to rest before becoming part of the echo themselves.
The Forgotten Crypt: A curious historian uncovers an ancient crypt beneath a seemingly ordinary church. Inside, they find intricate carvings depicting a forgotten cult and a curse that was placed upon the village centuries ago. As they research further, they start to realize that the crypt is still active, and disturbing the peace awakens something sinister that was meant to stay buried.

Feel free to mix, match, or modify any of these ideas to create a story that resonates with you! Happy writing!

Jimmy Johns · Answer

lets do Ideas 1 and 3, starting with 3

GPT-4o mini · Answer

Great choice! Let's dive into the story idea for "The Portraits of Maple Manor." Here’s a more detailed outline to help you develop your mysterious, spooky tale:

Title: The Portraits of Maple Manor

Setting:

Location: An isolated, centuries-old manor house surrounded by overgrown gardens and thick woods.
Atmosphere: It's stormy and ominous, with creaking floorboards, flickering lights, and drafts that whisper through the hallways. The air is thick with dust and memories.

Main Character:

Clara Bennett: A young woman in her late twenties, recently inherited the manor from a distant relative she never knew. She is curious, artistic, and a bit of a skeptic when it comes to supernatural tales, but she has a deep appreciation for history.

Key Elements:

The Portraits: The manor is filled with portraits of its former owners, each painted in elaborate detail. Clara notices that the faces seem to have an almost lifelike quality and a hint of sadness in their expressions.
The Diary: While exploring the manor, Clara discovers an old diary hidden behind a loose floorboard. The diary belonged to the last resident before it was abandoned. It chronicles strange events, whispers of jealousy, betrayal, and the mystery surrounding the final days leading up to a tragic incident.
Changes in the Portraits: As Clara cleans and restores the manor, the portraits begin to subtly change. The expressions of the subjects shift based on Clara's emotions and actions—smiling when she feels happy and frowning when she feels sad or stressed. This phenomenon unnerves her, making her question her own sanity.
The Ghostly Encounters: Clara starts experiencing strange occurrences: fleeting shadows, chilling whispers at night, and even sightings of apparitions resembling some of the figures in the portraits. They appear to be trying to communicate old secrets or seek help.
The Dark Revelation: As Clara uncovers more about the manor's history, she learns that every owner of the manor met a grim fate, often involving betrayal and tragedy. The final entry in the diary hints at a hidden treasure that may have been the cause of the turmoil.
The Climax: Clara must confront the reality that she might be next in line to become a part of the portraits. She decides she must find out what happened to the last owner and confront an entity that has been trapped in the manor. This culminates in a tense scene where she discovers the illicit affair that spiraled into madness and darkness.
Resolution: Clara finds a way to break the curse by completing a final act of compassion towards the spirits trapped in the portraits, allowing them to confront their past. She holds a ceremony to honor their memories, and in doing so, the portraits return to their original forms, peaceful and serene. Clara is left with the choice to stay in the manor or use the newfound knowledge to prevent future tragedies.

Themes:

Legacy and Memory: Explore how the past shapes the present and how unresolved traumas can linger through generations.
Art and Representation: The portraits serve as a metaphor for how we perceive others and ourselves, as well as the weight of public versus private personas.
Redemption and Forgiveness: The journey of both Clara and the portraits involves seeking closure and forgiveness for past mistakes.

Opening Scene:

Start with Clara arriving at Maple Manor for the first time, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. She opens the creaking front door, the smell of mildew and dust fills the air, and the portraits watch silently from the walls. Each face seems to tell a story, and any doubts about the myths of hauntings begin to creep in as she notices their eyes following her.

This outline provides a foundation for your spooky story. Feel free to expand, add characters, or modify elements as you see fit! Would you like help with specific scenes, character development, or anything else?

Jimmy Johns · Answer

we'll write it together, l;ets get started. start writing it!

GPT-4o mini · Answer

Absolutely! Here’s how we can begin “The Portraits of Maple Manor.” I’ll set up the opening scene, and you can let me know how you want to proceed from there!

The Portraits of Maple Manor

Clara Bennett stood at the foot of the gravel path that led to Maple Manor, its looming silhouette framed against a stormy sky. The air was thick with anticipation, and a chill, carried by the wind, wrapped around her like an unwelcome cloak. With a deep breath, she adjusted the strap of her backpack and made her way to the front door, the echo of her footsteps swallowed by the tall, unkempt grass lining the path.

As she approached the door, her heart raced, a mix of excitement and trepidation. She had inherited the manor from a distant relative, a woman she had never met, not even in family gatherings or correspondence. Clara felt an irresistible pull to the place, an ancient structure steeped in mystery and whispers of the past.

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit foyer. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light streaming through the high windows, illuminating the faded grandeur of the interior. Dark wooden paneling lined the walls, and a grand staircase spiraled upward into shadow. Clara stepped inside, the door closing with a soft thud behind her, sealing her in the world of the forgotten.

“Hello?” she called out, though she knew she would only be met with silence. The sound of her voice echoed eerily, bouncing off the walls, as if the house itself held its breath, waiting.

Clara took a few cautious steps further into the entryway, her fingers grazing over a dust-covered table. On it rested a tarnished silver candlestick, half-buried under layers of grime. With a small flourish, she reached for it and lifted it; it felt heavier than it appeared, and she couldn’t help but admire its intricate design—floral engravings winding around its base.

A shiver ran down her spine as she glanced up and met the eyes of the portraits hanging on the walls. Each painting depicted a somber figure dressed in clothing from another time, their expressions solemn and watchful, as if they were guardians of the manor’s secrets.

“What stories do you hold?” Clara mused aloud, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. It was a mistake, perhaps, to engage with the paintings, but she couldn’t shake the sensation that they were alive in some way.

As she moved further into the manor, she felt the weight of their gaze upon her, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as if one of the figures smiled—just the briefest curl of the lips. Clara dismissed it, attributing it to her imagination, and pressed on.

The wooden floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she made her way to the sitting room, where sunlight spilled in through dust-streaked windows. This room, too, was filled with more portraits, their frames ornate and heavy.

Drawn to one in particular, Clara found herself standing before a large canvas, its surface slightly cracked with age. The subject was a woman, her face radiant but mournful, a cascade of dark curls framing her pale skin. A silver locket rested against her breast, glinting in the filtered light.

“What happened to you?” Clara whispered, tilting her head as she studied the woman’s eyes. They seemed to hold a world of sorrow, a chasm of unfulfilled dreams. She felt an odd connection to the painting, as if it were trying to reach out to her from beyond the canvas.

Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder rolled outside, shaking the manor, and Clara jumped, nearly knocking over a nearby vase. The lights flickered, and for an instant, she thought she saw the woman’s eyes flash with life. Startled, Clara stepped back, her heart racing.

The thunder rumbled again, and Clara took a moment to steady herself, realizing that perhaps the whispers of the past weren’t so far away after all. The portraits... there was something about them, something she couldn’t yet understand.

With determination settling in her heart, Clara decided to explore further, to unravel the layers of history that Maple Manor held within its walls. Little did she know that the answers she sought would lead her into a realm of shadows—a world where the past and present coalesced in eerie harmony.

How would you like to proceed from here? Would you like to continue with Clara's exploration, introduce a new character, or perhaps delve into a specific event or dialogue? Let me know how you’d like to shape the next part!

Jimmy Johns · Answer

proceed to the book part where she finds the journal/diary

GPT-4o mini · Answer

Certainly! Let’s move forward with Clara's exploration as she discovers the journal hidden within Maple Manor. Here’s the next part:

Clara wandered through the dimly lit rooms of Maple Manor, curiosity guiding her steps. Each corner held a fragment of history, each piece of furniture a testament to the lives once lived within these walls. As she entered the library, her breath caught in her throat.

Shelves lined with dusty leather-bound books towered above her, their spines cracked and faded with age. The air was thick with the faint scent of mildew and something else—longing, perhaps, echoing through the silence. Clara approached the nearest shelf, her fingers tracing the titles until she noticed a strange glimmer near the back.

Something shiny caught her eye. Clara pulled on an old book, and the shelf creaked in protest as it tilted slightly. There, tucked behind the book, was a small, leather-bound journal, its cover worn and embossed with delicate floral patterns.

Her heart raced as she pulled it free. The journal felt substantial in her hands, the pages yellowed and fragile. She brushed the dust from the cover and carefully opened it, revealing the elegant, cursive handwriting inside.

The first entry was dated nearly a century ago.

September 12, 1923

Dear Reader,
I find myself increasingly anxious as the days grow colder and the nights longer. The manor has always felt like a living entity, but it feels much more like a tomb these days. I often hear whispers echoing through the halls, hushed and urgent, yet I cannot pinpoint their source. The portraits seem to watch me with knowing eyes, and I wonder if they hold the key to the secrets that lay beneath their gaze.

Clara's fingers trembled as she turned the pages, skimming through the entries. The diary belonged to Eliza Harrison, the last resident of Maple Manor before it fell into disrepair. Eliza’s words painted vivid pictures of a woman increasingly unsettled by the manor's atmosphere.

October 5, 1923
Today, I discovered something truly extraordinary—I found myself dreaming of a hidden room, a chamber concealed somewhere within the manor. I can’t shake the feeling that this room holds the answers I seek, that it’s somehow tied to the portraits that seem to come alive in my presence. I must find it before it is too late.

Clara's heart raced. A hidden room? Could it be that Eliza had uncovered something that still lay undiscovered? She needed to learn more.

October 24, 1923
I have heard my name called in the dead of night, soft and melodic, like a lullaby. I have begun to see shadows flit across the corners of my vision. Tonight, I witnessed one of the portraits shift slightly, as if it breathed in time with my own heartbeat. It was at that moment I realized these faces are not merely representations of the past; they are the souls entwined with this manor. I fear I am not alone here...

Chills ran down Clara’s spine. She shivered at the intimacy with which Eliza described her experiences, the palpable fear and isolation seeping through the ink. What had happened to Eliza? Why was she so desperate to uncover the truth?

Just then, the wind howled outside, causing the library windows to rattle. Clara glanced up, momentarily shaken by the darkness outside closing in. She turned back to the journal, her determination reignited.

Flipping to the next pages, Clara noticed sketches intermingled with the entries. Each was a rough illustration of one of the portraits, detailed yet haunting, as if they were crying out for recognition. One stood out—the same woman whose portrait Clara had admired earlier. Eliza had sketched her meticulously, capturing not just her features but also the profound sorrow etched into her expression.

It was then Clara caught the faintest of them—a luminous engraving beneath the sketch, as if it were a clue waiting to be revealed.

“You must go where the light meets the darkness.”

What could that possibly mean? Had Eliza been trying to guide her even from beyond the grave?

Feeling the weight of Eliza’s story press upon her, Clara closed the journal gently and looked around the library, her heart pounding with a new sense of purpose. She had to find this hidden room, to uncover the truth that had entangled itself within the portraits and Eliza’s life. But where would she even start?

Determined, she clutched the journal close to her chest and stepped back into the foyer, where the faint echoes of the past still whispered in the air.

“Where the light meets the darkness…” Clara mumbled to herself, deep in thought. Those words would guide her quest, leading her to unravel the dark mysteries of Maple Manor.

How would you like to continue from here? Should Clara start searching for the hidden room, or do you want to introduce another element or character? Let me know your thoughts!

Jimmy Johns · Answer

proceed with the story...

GPT-4o mini · Answer

Absolutely! Let’s see how Clara embarks on her search for the hidden room in Maple Manor.

With the journal clutched tightly in her hands, Clara stood in the foyer, scanning the room for any clues that might lead her to the hidden chamber. The sunlight began to fade outside, casting long shadows across the ornate woodwork of the manor. She felt an overwhelming sensation of being watched, not just by the portraits but by the very walls that had witnessed countless moments of joy and despair.

“Where the light meets the darkness…” she mused again, retracing her steps toward the sitting room and stopping in front of the portrait of the sorrowful woman. Clara studied the painting closely, searching for any sign that it could lead her to Eliza’s hidden sanctuary.

Her eyes went to the frame, noticing that it was slightly crooked. With a small frown, she reached up to straighten it, feeling a sudden rush of cold air that made her shiver. As she adjusted the frame, she felt a metallic click beneath her fingertips as if she had activated something.

The painting shifted slightly, and with a soft protest, a section of the wall behind it slid open, revealing a narrow, dark corridor leading deeper into the manor. Clara gasped, stepping back in surprise. Had she really just found it? Heart racing, she felt both terrified and exhilarated. This was the hidden room Eliza had written about.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she took a tentative step forward, peering into the darkness. The corridor seemed to stretch on endlessly, the walls lined with thick cobwebs and dust that told stories of abandonment. With determination gripping her, Clara took out her phone and turned on the flashlight feature, illuminating the path ahead.

As she walked, she felt an electric breeze that whispered around her, almost like a guiding hand encouraging her onward. The corridor twisted and turned, and Clara could hear the faintest sound of her heartbeat in the heavy silence. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the walls were alive with memories, watching her closely as she entered the very heartbeat of the manor.

Finally, she reached a small door at the end of the corridor, its surface marred by the passage of time. Clara hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with questions. What would she find on the other side? Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

Light poured into the small chamber, illuminating a hidden haven that was both enchanting and eerie. The room was filled with scattered artifacts—a collection of dusty books, old photographs, and trinkets that seemed to speak of the past. But what caught Clara’s attention the most was a large, ornate mirror standing against the far wall, its surface strangely unblemished.

Approaching it cautiously, Clara felt drawn to the mirror. As she stood before it, she noticed that her reflection shimmered strangely, as if the glass was a portal to another time. Strangely, she saw not only her own likeness but also the faint outline of the weeping woman from the portrait, standing beside her with a sorrowful expression.

Clara felt a rush of emotions surge through her. “Who are you?” she whispered, pressing her fingers against the cool, smooth surface of the mirror. “What do you want from me?”

In response, the air around her seemed to thicken, and for a brief instant, Clara saw flashes of Eliza’s life—her joys, her heartaches, and her ultimate despair. The vision overwhelmed her, and she staggered back, realizing that the woman was reaching out, desperate for connection, understanding, and perhaps, closure.

Determined to help, Clara remembered the journal and pulled it from her bag, flipping to the page with the sketch of Eliza. “I’m here to listen,” she said softly, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and empathy.

Suddenly, the mirror shimmered brighter, and Clara felt a surge of energy washing over her. The hushed whispers she had heard earlier now became clearer, resonating with urgency.

“Help me find peace,” a voice echoed, enveloped in desperation.

Clara realized that the hidden room was more than just a sanctuary; it was a space where Eliza's spirit lingered, trapped between her past and the weight of unfulfilled desires. The entries in the journal had been a call for help, an entreaty for someone to uncover the secrets that had kept her tied to the manor.

With newfound resolve, Clara began to search the room for anything that could lead her to the truth behind Eliza’s sorrow. She rifled through books and photographs, each artifact revealing snippets of Eliza’s life—a letter with ink fading, recounting a lost love, a necklace that sparkled beneath layers of dust.

It was then that Clara noticed a small wooden box, intricately carved with floral patterns resembling those on the journal. Her heart quickened as she reached for it, hoping it might reveal the answers she sought.

Inside the box were objects that echoed Eliza’s regrets: an old locket, a dried flower, and a note written in a shaky hand. Clara unfolded the note, her breath hitching as she read:

“To my dearest, I must conceal my secrets from a heart that could never understand. Forgive me for the choices I made, for my love was never to be.”

Clara’s heart sank as she pieced together the unspeakable pain Eliza must have endured—lost love, regret, and perhaps betrayal. These memories kept her spirit bound to the manor, trapped within the canvas of the past.

“Please, Eliza,” Clara whispered, tears prickling her eyes. “Let me help you find peace. Tell me what I need to do.”

The temperature in the room began to drop as the whispers coalesced into a single, haunting voice. “Release me from this sorrow. Speak the truth that binds me.”

Clara understood then: Eliza’s spirit longed to be acknowledged, to have her story told in a way that freed her from the grip of unspoken pain. And she was determined to help her find that release.

Clara carefully placed the note back in the box and stood in front of the mirror once more. “I will make sure your story is heard. You are not forgotten, Eliza.”

As she spoke, the mirror began to glow brighter, and Clara felt a wave of warmth wash over her, the air shifting from heavy to light—a sign that she was on the right path. What would unfold next, Clara did not know, but she knew she had to dig deeper into the tangled web of Maple Manor’s history to unearth the truth.

What would you like to explore next? Should Clara uncover more secrets, or do you want to dive into a confrontation with the past? Let me know how you’d like to proceed!

Jimmy Johns · Answer

continue it...

GPT-4o mini · Answer

Great! Let’s continue Clara’s journey as she delves deeper into the mysteries of Maple Manor and the legacy of Eliza.

With renewed determination, Clara placed the wooden box back on the shelf and scanned the rest of the room for anything that might further illuminate Eliza’s story. The flickering light from her phone cast eerie shadows against the walls, making them dance and shimmer. Clara felt a strange bond forming between herself and the spirit of the woman who had once inhabited this manor. It was as though Eliza’s sorrow had seeped into the very fabric of the house.

She turned her attention back to the mirror, feeling oddly comforted by the way it seemed to reflect not just her image, but the collective memories of those who had come before her.

Suddenly, Clara noticed a faint outline appearing in the mirror’s glass—the spectral form of the weeping woman looking back at her. When their eyes met, Clara could see the depths of sadness and longing etched into Eliza's features, a look that seemed to plead for understanding and resolution.

Fighting the urge to step back, Clara leaned closer to the mirror, her heart pounding. “What do you need me to know?” she whispered, instinctively knowing that she had to bridge the gap between the past and the present to help Eliza find peace.

As if answering her, the mirror shimmered and transformed into a moving scene. Clara was captivated as the reflection morphed into a vibrant, sunlit room filled with laughter and music. She saw a much younger Eliza, her hair cascading in waves, surrounded by friends at a lavish party. The joy was palpable, and Clara felt warmth radiating from the memory.

But with a quick shift, the scene darkened. Clara’s heart sank as she watched another figure emerge from the shadows—a dashing man, his charm palpable, but something about his demeanor felt off. Clara felt a wave of unease as she realized this man was not there for noble reasons.

With a sinking feeling, Clara witnessed Eliza's hopeful gaze shift to confusion and then to despair as the scene unfolded. The man approached Eliza with a charm that cloaked his true intentions. She couldn’t hear the words, but Clara could see the spark of attraction in Eliza’s eyes quickly dimming into something akin to horror.

The vision flickered, twisting back to the present. Clara gasped, clutching her phone tighter as the truth began to unfold. Eliza had placed her trust in someone who ultimately betrayed her, leading to her heartache and perhaps even the tragic end to her life.

“Why didn’t you leave?” Clara whispered into the stillness, as if Eliza might hear and respond. “What happened to you?”

In answer, the mirror shimmered again, and Clara was thrust into another memory. This time she stood amidst a heated argument, the same man now confronting Eliza with rage. Clara could feel the tension in the room, thick and palpable, as Eliza's expression transformed from fear to defiance.

“Stay away from me!” Eliza shouted, her voice ringing clear despite the muted nature of the vision. “You will not control me!”

The man’s face twisted in fury as he lunged for her, and Clara screamed, “No!” but her cries went unheard. The vision cracked, and Clara found herself collapsing back against the wall as the reality of what unfolded rushed over her.

“Who are you?” Clara breathed, desperate to pull the truth from the shadows that plagued Eliza’s memories. “What was his name? Who took your life?”

The air grew heavy, the temperature dropping noticeably. In the mirror, Clara saw not only the figure of Eliza but also the dark outline of the man—his features obscured, but the menace they carried unmistakable. Clara stared deep into the reflection, yearning to feel Eliza’s presence more strongly.

The whispers returned, now swirling around her with urgency. “His name… reveal his name, and I shall rise above this prison of sorrow.”

Clara’s heart raced as she understood what needed to be done. She recalled the journal—the entries that spoke of Eliza’s hidden room, her dreams of freedom. And now, the longing to know the name that had cursed her so deeply.

She thumbed through the journal again, skimming past Eliza’s thoughts of dread and despair until she found a passage full of scrawled handwriting.

“He will not take what is mine! I can feel it. I have seen his darkness, and I will not be ensnared.”

The name—Clara could almost see it in her mind’s eye, hanging heavy between the lines. But the journal remained unyielding, and she couldn't find the exact name.

Desperate for answers, Clara let her intuition guide her. She turned to the room, scanning for any indication of Eliza’s tormentor. Perhaps there was something else, another artifact that might hold the truth.

As she rummaged through a small trunk in the corner, a keepsake box caught her attention. It was decorated with floral designs that matched the locket she’d found earlier, and Clara felt an urge to open it. Inside, she discovered more old letters, their edges crisp yet yellowing, each one addressed with care. Clara carefully unfolded one, her fingers trembling.

Among the letters, a name emerged in delicate script: William Ashford.

Clara’s heart pounded as she read the letters, filled with hints of love and betrayal woven together in a tragic tapestry. Eliza had loved him once, but love had twisted into obsession, leading to betrayal and ultimately despair.

As she absorbed the name, the temperature in the room shifted again, responding to her discovery. The mirror vibrated with energy, and Clara felt the familiar rush of Eliza’s presence growing stronger. The weeping woman’s image grew clearer, her lips forming words Clara could not hear but understood deep within her soul.

“What do you want me to do?” Clara pleaded, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “You deserve peace.”

“Call his name,” came the echoing response, a blend of Eliza’s voice and the whispers. “Free me in the truth.”

Taking a deep breath, Clara acknowledged the weight of Eliza’s sorrow. “I will tell your story, Eliza. I will make him known—William Ashford, the man who betrayed you. I promise.”

With those words, she felt an intense surge of energy through the mirror, and the reflection began to shimmer again. Clara glanced back at the portrait of Eliza, her heart filled with a sense of hope.

“Let him be known,” she murmured one last time before stepping back. The air crackled with anticipation as the room began to shift; unseen forces stirring, the echoes of time reverberating through her very being. Clara prepared for the revelation she had long awaited, one that would finally give Eliza the peace she desired—if only she could unearth the darkness that had shackled them both.

How would you like to continue from here? Should Clara conduct a more direct confrontation with the spirit, or perhaps pursue more historical research about William Ashford? Let me know your thoughts!