TWILIGHT HOUR - ??:??
A CERTAIN MANOR
The Twilight Detective Agency, serving humans and yokai alike.â Have you ever seen a shadow in the corner that wasnât a shadow? Felt a feeling of dread walking into a room, an invisible force with eyes on you, or seen strange creatures you couldnât possibly explain? If so, the TDA is ready and waiting for you. Please contact the number below, or visit our office at 426 Center Dr. Open 24 hours.
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A black haired woman hums as she strides down the street, not sparing a glance back at the people staring at her as if she was some sort of oddity, dressed to the nines in a full length corset gown, holding two to-go containers of coffee in either hand. As she walks, she passes a sign that reads, The Twilight Detective Agency, serving humans and yokai alike.â Have you ever seen a shadow in the corner that wasnât a shadow? Felt a feeling of dread walking into a room, an invisible force with eyes on you, or seen strange creatures you couldnât possibly explain? If so, The TDA is ready and waiting for you. Please contact the number below, or visit our office at 426 Center Dr. Open 24 hours.
Her journey stops in front of a red building, climbing the steps of the porch and unlatching the gate. She shuts the gate behind her, and pushes open the front door, calling, âDetective! I gotââ She stops.Â
Cornelia, the primary investigator of the Twilight Detective Agency, is staring down Vivienne with her arms crossed over her chest. Vivienne watches Corneliaâs eyes go from Vivenne herself, to the coffees in her hands, to the clients sitting across from her that Vivienne had fully interrupted the consultation of. âMy assistant,â she says, âVivienne.â
âHi! Welcome in,â Vivienne says, course-correcting as she glances between their clients. They appeared to be two women, one with glasses and scarlet hair cut into a long bob, the other black haired with moles dotted across her face. Glasses looks anxious, and Moles looks between curious and annoyed. âUm, I was out getting coffee for you both. Here. Itâs just the shopâs regular,â She offers the coffee to both of them, and they take it, although Glasses for a moment doesnât seem to want to. âDetective, Iâll get ours ready.â Slightly dejected, Vivienne starts their coffee maker and prepares a mug for herself and Cornelia.
Once she sets them both down on the table, the consultation continues.Â
âAs we were saying,â Moles says, âMy name is Katherine, and thatâs Robin,â She gestures to the woman sitting next to her, âAnd I think thereâs something odd going on with our house. We just moved in, and all sorts of strange things have been happening.â
âYou think your house is haunted?â Vivienne asks. Katherine nods her head, and Vivienne canât help but feel a trace of sympathy at the anxiety in Robinâs expression next to her. She leans in to speak in Corneliaâs ear. âDo we do ghosts?â
Cornelia raises an eyebrow, âYes, we do.â She turns back to the clients, âCan you describe what kind of things have been happening? I understand it may be difficult or frightening, but if you could provide as much detail as you canâŚâ
âOf course,â Katherine says, glancing back at Robin, who gives her a nod of permission. âThereâs a lot of things, but the particularly intrusive ones are⌠in the kitchen, it always smells like somethingâs burning, even if the stove isnât on. When walking through the halls, or making peace in another room, we can hear footsteps; even when the house is empty, doors slamming, even though when we check, theyâre still open.âÂ
âIâve noticed the sound of the water running, too,â Robin chimes in, âParticularly in the first floor bathroom, about three times a day.â
âSpeaking of strange sounds,â Katherine continues, âSometimes, wherever we are in the house, weâll hear these ghastly noises coming from the living room. It sounds like people talking, but I can never tell what theyâre saying; I can only hear bits and pieces of the conversation, and it sounds muffled, as if it was inside of the walls. And Iâll hear laughing, too, this garbled laughâŚâ She shudders. Shaking her head, she says, âRobin mentioned the sound of water, but thereâs something worse about the bathroom. Late at night, I caught the eye of the mirror. It wasnât my reflection.âÂ
âSomeone elseâs reflection was in the mirror? Thatâs crazy.â Vivienne asks, taking an interested sip of her coffee. Cornelia elbows her lightly in the side.Â
âThereâs a variety we see, but theyâre always too blurry to make out. Like itâs blanketed in some sort of fog,â Katherine says, warming her hands on her coffee. She sighs, âThe strangest of all, though, is that we can hear crying. It seems like theyâre struggling to breathe, and it always comes from the same place: the smaller bedroom on the second floor.â
âIt certainly sounds like youâve got something particular on your hands.â Cornelia concludes, setting her now empty mug down.Â
âDo you think you can do anything about it?â Robin asks, anxiously rubbing her thumb and pointer fingertips together. Cornelia slowly nods her head.
âWeâll have to go and see the situation for ourselves, past your descriptions,â She begins to stand up out of her hair, tilting her chin up at Vivienne, who nods her head and disappears upstairs for a moment, her footsteps light against the hardwood as she gathers her bag.Â
When it takes longer than anticipated, both Katherine and Robin having risen out of their seats, waiting awkwardly by the door, Vivienne is greeted with a frown from Cornelia at the bottom of the stairs. âWhat took you so long?âÂ
Vivienne readjusts her bag over her shoulder, âOh, nothing~â
Cornelia gives her a suspicious look as she closes and locks the door behind them.
Robin and Katherineâs newly bought house was on the far end of the town, nestled within a cluster of trees. A small pond and waterfall audibly rushed in the background. It was five minutes to three-thirty, and the sun still hung in the sky, peeking behind grey clouds.Â
Cornelia finds herself sizing up the three story house, with its vast lushness all around them. She straightens her vest, looking around. There seemed to be three entrances: the garage, the front door, and based on the concrete path around the vicinity of the house, a backdoor. She and Vivienne follow their clients to the front door, and Cornelia watches as Robin fumbles for the correct key on her wristlet keychain.
The lights are still on when they enter, and the first thing Katherine says is, âSee?â She turns to Cornelia, gesturing to the overhead light in the foyer. âEven if weâre sure weâve turned off the lights when we leave, when we come back, theyâll have switched themselves on again. Just like this.â
âThatâs definitely a problem,â Cornelia muses.
Vivienne chimes in, âYeah! For the electric bill, too.â
Her comment goes unacknowledged as Katherine and Robin conduct a tour of the house. On the ground floor was a living room, dining room, the kitchen, a bathroom, as well as what appeared to be a shared childrenâs bedroom, sporting an attached bathroom with Jack and Jill sinks. Down the hallway by the childrensâ bedroom was the door to the garage, evidently once used as an extra storage space.
The stairs in the center of the ground floor led upwards, and directly across from those stairs as another, leading up to the third and final floor. The second floor was just as impressive as the first. To the right was another bedroom, although based on the suitcase and objects scattered across the room, it seemed that Robin was the current occupant. There was an attached bathroom, as well.
If you went left instead, you would find yourself down a corridor, facing a hallway lined with bookshelves. Cornelia opens the cracked door wider, peeking her head in, âIs this the bedroom you said you heard the crying you mentioned?âÂ
âIt is,â Robin says, shutting her door. She gestures to the balcony beside her bedroom, âIâm not sure if youâd like to check out here. Thereâs several amenities, a grill, a hot tub, as well as an outdoor dining areaâŚâ
âSeems like whoever lived here before had it totally stocked up, huh?â Vivienne asks, peering out the balcony windows. They take a cursory look around, and Corneliaâs expression tragically cues Vivienne in that sheâs definitely not going to get to use the jacuzzi this time around.Â
âSpeaking of,â Cornelia says, âDo you know anything about the previous occupants? Were they there at the time of the sale?â
âNo, I donât, and they werenât. Actually,â Katherine trails off, waving them in closer, âApparently, something happened to the previous owners of this house. They did a lot of renovating, so all of this is their own design. Itâs not, well,â She pulls away with a laugh, âItâs not a murder house, but it certainly has some sort of history. It seems that every member of the family died in a plane crash, but one of their children survived⌠the crash, at least. Shortly after, it seems he couldnât cope, and took his own life. He wasâŚâ She looks over at Robin.
âHe had just turned 19 when they died. They were coming home from his birthday vacation.âÂ
Vivienneâs expression is one of horror; Corneliaâs is more tempered. She breathes out a sigh. âThat is quite tragic. Houses with a history like that are more predisposed to supernatural happenings.âÂ
âOn his birthday?â Vivienne asks, shaking her head in fearful disbelief. She rubs at her inner elbow, the stitching rigid underneath her ice cold hands, âThatâs horrible. If thereâs a God out there, Iâm sure itâs a cruel one.âÂ
Robin and Katherine say nothing to her comment, although they exchange a glance that Cornelia feels in her temples, like a pebble in her shoe; something irksome, some sort of white noise wrongness in the background. âWas it because of the houseâs history that you chose it? I imagine you mustâve gotten a fairly good deal on it. Otherwise, it wouldnât make a lot of sense for two people to occupy a house meant for six people.â
âWell,â Katherine says, and her smile has a particular lilt to it, âWeâve just got a lot of plans for it. Right, Robin?âÂ
âUm,â Robin replies, fidgeting again. Vivienne gets the sense that she isnât much of a leader. âWe do. She might not act like it, but really, Kathyâs very social. We have enough social gatherings that we needed to up-size our space.â
âThe price really was convenient, then.â Cornelia says, with a nod, tucking her suspicion back in her pocket.Â
The tour continues, up to the third floor. It was half the square footage of the others, and held primarily the master bedroom, complete with a large attached bathroom and a walk-in closet. It seemed to belong to Katherine, at least, judging by the way she let Robin lead as she stood by the door.Â
âDoes much happen in here?â Cornelia asks, pointedly ignoring Vivienneâs stifled laugh.Â
âIâll sometimes see reflections in the mirror, and the water running sometimes comes from the master bedroom.â Katherine answers. Cornelia doesnât reply, stepping into the bathroom and exiting shortly after, still glancing around. âSo, what do you think?â
âIs there a particular time these occurrences happen?âÂ
âIt doesnât happen in the daytime. At least, not when weâre here, like with the lights. Most of the other occurrences are at nightâŚâ She trails off. Cornelia furrows her eyebrows by a mere millimeter, Vivienne glancing her way, watching each minute change.Â
Cornelia says, âWe arenât exactly prepared for an overnight stay, so weâll have to go back to the Agency first to pick up our things, if thatâs whatââ
Vivienneâs huff interrupts her, brandishing the bag sheâs kept on her shoulder and unzipping it, revealing a variety of clothing, toiletries, snacks, and various other items. She seems awfully proud of herself, staring at Cornelia with an expectant smile.Â
âThank you, Vivienne. Good work. If youâre comfortable with us staying overnight, weâll investigate the cause of the occurrences. Come back in the morning, around nine or ten. Iâll try to have some answers for you by then.âÂ
Katherine and Robin exchange a glance, and then nod. Katherine says, âAlright. That works for me. I trust you.âÂ
âAh,â Cornelia says, locking eyes with Katherine, the tension between them hanging in the air like hail, âIf thereâs anything else that you think we should know about, youâre free to tell us now.âÂ
Katherine stares at her for a moment. Vivienne, watching, canât help but think she appears to be sizing Cornelia up; her conclusion she canât tell, but eventually, their client shakes her head, smiles, and offering the house keys from her pocket, says, âOf course. I donât believe thereâs anything I havenât said. Weâll leave it to you, capable detective.â
If Cornelia senses any trace of malice in her words, she doesnât let it show on her face. The pair lead their clients to the door, Vivienne enthusiastically waving as they disappear, climbing into their car, Robin backing out of the driveway as they disappear into the distance. Cornelia sighs when theyâre out of sight, and locks both the top and bottom lock.Â
âWeâre going to stay up for the night keeping an eye on the house.â She says, sternly. Vivienne cheerfully nods her head.
Cornelia blinks herself awake. She looks up at the clock in the living room. It hadnât even been ten minutes, she mustâve just dozed. She shakes her head, chastising herself under her breath. Some detective she was being. She pulls herself up, slipping her shoes back on as she wanders through the halls. She finds Vivienne after a mere moment of searching. She turns when she hears Cornelia approach, âOh, hey, detective!â She puts down what sheâs holding. A loaf of bread sheâs pretty sure Vivienne didnât pack in her bag. âWhat?â
âWe shouldnât steal their food.â She crosses her arms. âDid you not bring any?âÂ
âI did, and Iâm not stealing! I just want to look! Besides, what if I, like, wanted hot chocolate or something?âÂ
âDid you bring hot chocolate?âÂ
âNo, but I figured they might have it.âÂ
Corneliaâs about to retort, when a sound from down the hallway makes them both still. She raises a finger between her lips, the universal motion for, quiet, as she peers around the corner. Two shadows dart across the walls, laughter a reverberating echo ringing in her ears. She plugs one ear, shuts one eye, and waits. Footsteps, slight at first and then as violent a rush as a horseâs stampede; she draws herself back as it all ebbs. She returns to Vivienne.Â
âThatâs certainly something.âÂ
âThatâs so fucking scary,â Vivienne says, shoulders up to her neck. âI hate this so, so, so much. Iâm never doing an overnight stay again. Ever.âÂ
âYouâre a ghost too, you know.âÂ
âThatâs different!â Vivienne snaps, âIt doesnât mean I canât be scared! Being dead has nothing to do with itââ
Their eyes follow the same path. A mirror propped up on the wall. Vivienne screams under her breath, Cornelia just roots her feet into the ground and watches. A wavering patch of black appears in the mirror, in and out of focus until they can see the hazy outline of two children in the mirror, their hands held together. A row of teeth drawn into a smile greets them and then disappears as quickly as it came.Â
âI hate this,â Vivienne mutters.                                   Â
Cornelia takes her hand and pulls her up the steps to the second floor. As she climbs the stairs, she breathes in the scent of smoke and turns back to the kitchen on the first floor. Itâs empty, as expected, but the smell hasnât faded. Itâs more than just smoke, it smells likeâ
âBurnt toast,â She says, as they step onto the second floor. Vivenne takes a cursory glance around, looking uncomfortable. The balcony door is closed. The lights are off. The space is empty. The hot tub light is on. They didnât turn it on, and it wasnât left on. âThis isnât all that scary,âÂ
âSays you,â Vivienne replies, clutching Corneliaâs arm. They walk together, as Cornelia examines the bookshelves. âWhat is it? Something off?â
âThereâs something odd about this. Look,â She gestures to the expanse of bookshelves. âThere were several on the first floor, too. They were clearly a family that valued reading, which is why the scarce amount of books left behind makes no sense. And there doesnât seem to be a commonality with the ones left behind. Not author, not genre⌠not anything.â
âDo you think they were just picking their favorites?â Vivienne asks. Cornelia shakes her head.
âNo. They went on vacation, remember? And I donât think Katherine and Robin have anything to do with it: they live here, however truthful theyâre being about the reason. Thereâs no point in discarding such a large amount of books like that, when theyâve kept all of the other furnishings,â She swipes her finger across empty sections of the shelf, âAnd look? No dust, but thereâs dust on the remaining books. Which means it mustâve happened recently.â
âSomeone took a ton of their books?â
âSeems like it,â She wipes her hand on a handkerchief, which she slips back into her pocket. âIâm not sure why, though, but I get the feeling it doesnât have anything to do with whatâs going on here. Iâll ask Katherine about it when morning comes.â
They step into the center of the second floor, still as statues as they await the unknown.
It comes, at first, like the rumble of thunder, and then a crackle. A voice, and then another; theyâre laughing, or are they arguing? The tones of their voice were like sharpened pieces of glass, and Vivienne squeezes Corneliaâs arm tighter.Â
âDonât⌠y⌠⌠âŚeasier⌠⌠⌠to⌠⌠⌠gâŚoodâŚby..eâŚâ
Cornelia narrows her eyes and listens closer. Thereâs something familiar about the sound that she just canât quite place, not yet, at least; she strains her ears as a butchered melody fills the room. She steps away from Vivienne and up to the TV, pressing her face to it and closing her eyes. Static burns in her ear; she pulls away, and checks the wires. âVi,â She asks. âDo you remember that kidâs show, with the ghost? She was a ghost girl with a flower in her hairâŚâ
âT-The Misadventures ofâ?âÂ
ââMacula, I remember now. You watched it when you were still alive, didnât you? Listen.â She puts a finger up to her lips. Vivienneâs pressing her fingertips into the stitching on her wrists. The voices return with that rumble. A bassline. A foundation. A melody. And then,
âDonât you know that itâs easier to say goodbye than face the problem head on?â
âWait,â Vivienne says, her eyes going wide with childlike joy, âI remember this episode! Macula and Kabochan had an argument. It was the first season finale⌠I cried so hard.âÂ
âIt sounds like a rerun to me, then,â Cornelia says, with a grin. âVivienne. You really donât have a reason to be afraid. This house isnât haunted.â She takes her hand and guides the two of them down the steps, âAt least, not by ghosts. This is our jurisdiction now.â
Katherine and Robin return to their house at exactly 8:59. When they unlock the door, Cornelia and Vivienne are already waiting in the foyer. Cornelia welcomes them in, and gestures for them to sit down.Â
âI have good news and bad news.â She starts, âThe good news is that I know exactly what the problem youâre having is. The bad news is that thereâs nothing I can do about it,â Cornelia ignores their shocked expressions and continues, âThere arenât any ghosts in your house, but it is haunted: by memory, that is.â
âMemory?â Katherine asks, incredulous.Â
âIt wasnât a figment of your imagination. The sounds you heard were very real, because they were. They were memoriesâthe houseâs memories, good and bad. They were just echoes. Some objects,â She picks up a trinket by the entryway, âHere and there, over time, can develop a soul. Whatever youâre planning with this houseâŚâ Cornelia trails off, fixing the two of them with a suspicious gaze, âRemember that it had its family taken away from it. It needs to be loved, like anyone else. You have to overwrite the houseâs memories with new ones; ones full of love. Otherwise, the strange occurrencesâthe houseâs griefâwill continue.â
Katherineâs expression softens, and she says, quietly. âWe understand. Was there anything else?â
âI just had a question,â Cornelia starts, âThe bookshelves in this house are pretty bare. Do you know the reason for that? You donât seem the type to sell random books for profit, and it wouldnât make much sense for you to downscale just the books.âÂ
âAh,â Katherine says, nodding her head, âWhile the house was still on the market, it was a fairly common target for break ins. Apparently, one day, someone broke in and took nothing but the books off the shelves. They even left a few. It was odd that they moved that many without anyone noticing.â
âPlenty of unseen things happen in the darkness of the night.â Cornelia responds.Â
Katherine nods her head, and extends her hand. âQuite so. Thank you for your help, detective.âÂ
They shake hands.
As Katherine steps back inside from seeing the detectives off, Robin peers over the stairwell on the second floor and calls, âThey mustâve gone out onto the deck. They left the door unlocked.âÂ
âThe deckâs door?â She asks, climbing up the stairs to see for herself. She tries the door, and Robinâs right; it was left unlocked. âNeither of them seemed like the hot tube type. Itâs not even currently usable, is it?âÂ
âWell, it hasnât even been a decade since they died. It might still work,â Robin taps it with her foot. It stays unresponsive, and the pair look at each other. Katherine turns her head, staring into the open door; scanning the empty bookshelves with narrowed eyes. âKathy?â
âWe arenât the only ones looking for him.â She shakes her head, and pulls Robin into the house, shutting the deck door behind her and locking it with frustration bubbling away in her chest.
A pair of women quietly exit the house. One of them is a shorter, anxious but determined looking woman. The other seems more composed, her lips drawn into a line, dyed hair drawn into a ponytail at the base of her neck. They keep their eyes on the windows until theyâre out of sight.Â
âItâs too late. Heâs already gone.â The second woman says, resting her hand on the otherâs shoulder.
âHe took all of the maps in the house, too. Thereâs no way to know where he might be now. EvenââÂ
ââI saw. Itâs going to be okay. Weâre going to find him.âÂ
She reassuringly squeezes her arm as they stand in the street. The second woman breathes out, and reaches her hand forward, pulling space apart, time stretching like taffy pulled taut; a door appears, and the cosmos greet them when she opens it. The pair walk through the door, and disappear in a blink.
Vivienne offers Cornelia a mug of hot chocolate, the pair of them sitting upstairs in the second floor of the Twilight Detective Agency; their home, a small two room space, but neither of them seemed to need more than that. She laughs, pushing Corneliaâs glasses up with her pointer finger, âYour glasses are fogging up.â
âAh,â Cornelia replies, pulling them off and setting them aside. She closes the case file sheâd been documenting and waits for Vivienne to sit down to sip at her drink. Her assistant keeps sneaking unsubtle, curious peeks at her. âWhat?âÂ
âYou seemed pretty suspicious of them. Robin and Katherine,âÂ
âI was.â Cornelia says, easily; she takes a sip of her hot chocolate. âThere was just something off. Thereâs no reason for two people to buy a house that size.â
âYou never know~â Vivienne hums, spooning sugar cubes into her mug. âMaybe they love house parties?â
âI sincerely doubt that, but there really isnât any way to know. Regardless, I donât think I want anything to do with them, whatever it is that theyâre doing.â She sighs, Katherineâs gaze still burning. âI suppose everyoneâs in search of something.âÂ
Vivienne laughs, âWhat are you searching for, then, detective?â
Avoiding her gaze, Cornelia replies, âWell, I donât know.â
She peers over at the detective, who simply looks in a different direction each time. Vivienne hums, biting a sugar cube into pieces, cuspids like daggers as the sugar dissolves on her tongue. She pops the rest into her mouth, âOkay, Iâll just ask Charon!âÂ
Cornelia turns to face her, huffing, âThatâs cheating!â
âSo there is something!â She continues to laugh, even as Cornelia shakes her head and swats at her, trying to wave her away as she rests her chin in the crook of Corneliaâs neck. The detective continues to ignore her, but Vivienne isnât deterred.Â
The sun begins to set on Crepuscule, and golden cast shadows seep through the windows.Â
âAh,â Cornelia says, as the pair of them look out the window, transfixed by the sight, âItâll be Twilight Hour soon. We should get ready for work.â
When the clock strikes twelve, the barrier between the world of humans and the world of spirits disappears, and Twilight Hour blooms.
Twilight Detective Agency, run by Cornelia and her assistant Vivienne, take on cases at the behest of human and yokai alike.
Whether it be a trick of the light, or a stray sound in the melancholy of the darkâŚ
Blink, and youâll miss it.
In case anyone's wondering what I'm up to these days, I started a new original series! Feel free to check it out if you think it strikes your fancy.























