Lightning struck, making Josie jump. She wasn't keen on being all alone in a strange place, but in spite of the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach, she kept walking toward the manor.

Great Aunt Donatella may not even have been expecting her. The thick chain and large padlock on the gates would no doubt make her admittance more difficult.

Come back.

Josie spun around, thinking she heard something.

She shook her head. Impossible. There was no one else out here in the rain.

Come back to us.

There it was again, and Josie hastened her steps.

It must have been just the trees, whipping their bare branches against each other. Or the wind, as it carried the sounds of the storm across the lonesome countryside.

Nearly stumbling over her own feet as she practically ran the last few steps, Josie grabbed the metal bars of the ornate carriage gate.

A subtle tingle ran through her body. It was akin to when her leg fell asleep on those long nights when she had it tucked under her just so, sitting in her favorite chair while writing in her beloved notebook.

Moving the limb made it temporarily go numb before a million tiny pinpricks crawled along her skin until it returned to normal.

That's exactly what she felt now, but it was much quicker, running through her hands up to her head and down to her toes.

Josie didn't have time to ponder the curious occurrence because the wide arm of the gate gave way under her push.

That's quite odd, she thought, looking for the chain and lock that were there just moments prior.

Or were they? If they had ever existed, they were surely gone now. Could it just have been her imagination? Were her weary eyes playing tricks on her?

Josie sighed. No matter. At least she was one step closer to getting out of the rain.

Leaning against the gate, she pushed the heavy obstacle open with her shoulder just enough to slip inside. The previous dirt – or rather, currently mud – path turned into a cobblestone road leading several hundred feet under looming elms up to the manor.

Carefully stepping over the slick stones, Josie wrung her hands while imagining what she'd say when she got to the front door. Good evening, madam. I'm Josephine Lyttleton-Bradley from London. Nice to make your acquaintance, she mentally practiced as she neared the imposing set of stairs at the end of the road.

Her heart raced by the time she stopped at the first step. She briefly wrinkled her nose in confusion at the two statues crowning the adjacent balusters on either side. Leaning in to the closest one, she could make out the grotesque face, scrawny arms, and folded wings of the crouching figure carved from stone. When a flash of lighting momentarily made the night as bright as day, she could have sworn the gargoyle winked at her.

Josie ran up the steps two at a time, keeping her focus on her feet as they hit the worn, stone pavers. When she thought she should be at the top, she looked up.

She was only halfway there.

After wiping her wet locks out of her eyes, Josie took a deep breath and slowly walked the rest of the way to the manor's entrance.

The covered portico gave her a welcome respite from the storm. Searching for bell or knocker proved unfruitful, so Josie raised her fist and pounded three times on the wooden door.

It slowly opened with a loud, ominous creak.

"Hello?" The falling rain's pitter-patter on the cobblestones drowned out Josie's already timid voice. "Who's there?"

When no answer came from within, Josie fully opened the weathered entry. She carefully put one foot in front of the other, hesitantly encroaching into a stranger's home.

It was quite dark inside, but nothing immediately appeared out of the ordinary. Taking a moment to examine her surroundings, the first thing Josie noticed is the place smelled old. A curious mix of dust, parchment, and flowers – lilies perhaps – permeated the air.

Bam! The door slammed shut, drawing Josie's attention behind her.

It was just the wind, nothing more.

Turning around, she felt something was different, but couldn't quite explain what. Observing the grand staircase ahead of her and the adjacent parlor through squinting eyes, a chill ran through her.

Candles! There definitely weren't any lit when she stepped into the manor, but now they lightly flickered in candlesticks and candelabra in corners and on mantles, and even in the ornate chandelier above her head.

How was that possible? Who lit the flames in just a matter of seconds?

For the first time since her parents left her here, Josie began to be truly scared. Turning to the door behind her, she tugged at the handle.

It wouldn't budge.

She pounded on the wood with her bare fists, kicked it with her muddy feet, and even clawed at it with her fingers, but it would not open.

She was a prisoner.

Tears began to roll down Josie's cold cheeks and she wiped them with her sleeve.

Not a prisoner; a guest. Yes, that is more like it. Mother and Father wouldn't put her in danger, no matter how frightening it appeared. It was just the storm and the dark of night that made things seem uninviting. She'd find Great Aunt Donatella, make her introductions, and by morning's light, everything would be fine.

While the thoughts seemed logical – and Josie was usually a very logical kind of girl – she had a tough time convincing her body of what her mind believed. Her legs were shaking and she was losing feeling in her ice-cold hands.

Fearing a fainting spell, Josie willed herself to continue on. The nearby parlor - with its open fireplace holding glowing red-hot embers, floral sofas, and wing backed chairs – seemed like the most obvious destination.

Come to us.

Josie froze. The same voice she heard outside whispered the three, short words directly into her ear.

Closing her eyes, she ignored the command.

It wasn't real. It was the wind and the storm and her overactive imagination. Father had always said the stories she wrote in her notebook would get her in trouble one day.

Father was right. Father was always inexplicably and unnervingly right.

Josie opened her eyes and continued toward the parlor.

Come back, Josie.

This time, her imagination addressed her by name. It also called to her more loudly with the words flowing down the grand, curved staircase leading to the second floor.

Josie bit her lip. Perhaps she should start listening. Why, it was possible she was hearing Great Aunt Donatella beckon to her all this while. For all Josie knew, her mysterious relative was old and immobile, thereby unable to meet her at the door.

She nodded to herself. Yes, that was a likely explanation.

Turning on her heels, Josie backtracked the few steps to the staircase. Putting one hand on the marble railing that ran all the way up, she took another deep breath and started upstairs.

On the second step, something ran between her legs, and Josie nearly tripped. Looking around, she didn't find the white cat she could have sworn was there moments before.

"Now, once and for all, stop being silly, Josie," she scolded herself out loud.

"What was that, Josephine?" A woman's voice unexpectedly answered.

Following the curve of the marble staircase with her eyes all the way to the top, Josie saw the most beautiful woman she'd ever encountered. Her dark, brown hair fell in soft ringlets over her shoulders and the long, black, lace dress snugly fit her slender frame.

"Good evening, madam," Josie managed to say in spite of shaking like a leaf.

"Oh, please. I'm too young to be a madam, plus we're family." The woman smiled, making her even more attractive. "Call me Donatella."

Author's Note: Wow! You guys helped this story debut after 1 day and 1 chapter at #17 on the Wattpad Horror What's Hot List! Thank you :) What did you think of this chapter? Is Great Aunt Donatella like you were expecting? Would you have gone into a creepy mansion the way Josie did? Vote with the star and stay tuned for more. Another update is coming in a few days!