Date: 2018-12-19 01:02 am (UTC)
hatchethanging: (Default)
"One would think you aren't enjoying your visit," the Host sardonically observes.

There are, at least, no portraits in the library. This doesn't mean nothing is watching--on the contrary, amid the dozens of shelves and thousands of books, there is a break every so often to reveal glaring busts.

"Our library is filled with priceless first editions. Only horror, of course." The Host runs an invisible hand over the spines of those in the top row, pauses in his narration. That isn't quite true. They're all, indeed, ghost stories, but some keep away from horror closer to humor, and that genre is fairly broad besides. Not fitting enough. He'll need to reword it. "And marble busts of the greatest ghost writers the literary world has ever known!"

Those busts are watching Noah, no doubt about it. Their eyes don't move, their necks don't swivel, and yet they continue to face him as he walks past them.

"They've all retired here, to the Haunted Mansion. Actually, we have hundreds of happy haunts here, though we're always taking applications." The Host, once again, drifts to speak by his guest's ear. "Could you or your friend be interested in a room? If you stray and stay alone, perhaps that will be taken as a pointed volunteer!"
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