restless bones etherealize

[thethrillof]

 in this issue of Hyperfixation Brain: The Haunted Mansion. you know, that ride in a few disney parks. the parks i have never been to! sure why the Fuck not i guess. here's a bunch of headcanon involving the ghosts that caught my attention the most. the initial name thing and italics are canon, the rest are my own things w/ just a few things maybe plucked from other version of attempted backstory.

warning for, uh,

death.

a lot of death. they're all goddamn ghosts, and this is mainly about said deaths and the oftentimes miserable circumstances leading to them! 

also written out mainly v late at night on zenwriter so fuckin. there are probably mistakes and nonsense abound. i'll reread this and fix some of it later, maybe

 

Constance Hatchaway: the bride who murdered five husbands for their money. specifically, via beheadding with, what else? a hatchet. in current canon, the Haunted Mansion was built for her by her final husband. lived a long and happy life. she resides in the attic, speaking twisted nuptual oaths in her bridal gown, surrounded by pictures of herself on her wedding days with her husbands’ heads disappearing.

life: grew up in a family that was once wealthy but spent their fortune w/o being able to get it back. always cared more about herself than anyone else, wanted to get even more rich than her ancestors were, learned to be deeply charming to manipulate everyone around her. even those who knew she had unsavory intentions couldn’t help but trust her when she smiled.

the murders she committed were for fun as well as for the money. though she held fondness for them all, she never had an instant of regret for it. she outright collected the heads of the men, hiding them away in hatboxes.

death: passed in her sleep of old age, resting peacefully in her room within the Mansion.

afterlife: she was never caught for her crimes while living, and so she found herself trapped in the living world, mainly keeping within her own mansion. not that she minds too much, she could go to anywhere else in the world to haunt, only she still loves the place. far more than she ever loved her husbands. however, she’s not in charge of it quite the same way as she was in life. instead, that honor goes to another:

The Ghost Host/Hatchet Man: the narrator who guides you through the Mansion. died by hanging himself. never shows himself as a ghost, but his swinging body is seen through the ceiling of the introductory Stretching Room, and one of the many portraits throughout the mansion depicts him with a mad smirk, his noose, and…a hatchet…

life: Constance’s majordomo, formerly a butler ‘belonging’ her second husband, who was seen as a community pillar but who treated his servants like objects. he discovered his former master’s body just after Constance had beheaded him and she went to put the head away. he took a risk, and she came back to find him dutifully cleaning up the blood on the floor and her hatchet.

she decided to keep him around, after he swore secrecy and pledged his loyalty to her. this was not romantic, but it was incredibly binding. moreso than either of them realized.

he helped her cover every single kill, from the literal mess to giving her an alibi after the fact.

he was ever polite to visitors and those they met as the lady moved around the country between husbands. he held himself to very high personal standards as a skilled, knowledgable servant. he was always tempted to mess with those of higher status in jokes and unsettling implication, but was too ashamed of the stain such a thing would leave on the potential reputation of Constance and himself to ever indulge it.

death: his attention to all of the soon-to-be married men had been mainly to assist Constance in learning their habits and who they were affiliated with—anything to make the sudden death less suspicious. the fifth and final was…different. a deeply friendly, trusting, generous man, George Hightower crashed through the servant’s metaphorical walls and became something close to a genuine friend. he was struck by guilt for the first time, for George’s coming fate and memories of the better moments with the former grooms. the self-hatred and horror consumed him. yet his strict principles kept him from telling Mr. Hightower the truth outright, and the man met the same fate as the rest.

he could never turn Constance in. had no family, no friends. age had caught up. he had nothing else. nowhere to go, trapped in the Mansion though he could cross its bounderies physically, and the self-disgust of disloyal thoughts and genuine guilt left him with only one choice, in his eyes: slipping off to the most remote part of the house to die.

the hanging was botched. he died a little more slowly than intended. and somehow, the Mansion itself…

afterlife: …claimed him.

that and the trauma of his own death robbed him of quite a few memories. he was the first genuine haunt of the haunted mansion—though he quickly discovered the men Constance had killed were still around, they often disappeared from his perview, and none could do as much as he.

the butler—the host—the Ghost Host, now—could move objects, speak to visitors, float and observe all from above. for a long time, he did very little of that. his loyalty to Constance stayed, strong as ever, if not moreso with the Mansion itself having tangled with his soul. he didn’t want to disturb her.

once Constance had passed, she allowed him to do whatever he pleased to the place, particularly giving him permission to indulge in unsettling those who moved in after. there were no younger Hatchaways, therefore strangers were the next who passed through the halls.

there were often children. those were the ones the Host bothered the least. in fact, he occasionally found himself in polite conversation with a few, and he found himself feeling…not quite alive, but far better than prior.

as more and more spirits gathered within the Mansion, the effect was observable: those who were encountered by the living had a greater tie to the world they should have left behind.

it would be many, many years before anything was worked out. before he even appealed to the lady of the house to begin allowing foolish mortals to truly know they were all there. before the thought of multiple visitors at a time.

time marched on. young people on dares found the air talking when they dared break into the haunted house, long after any living residents vacated.

eventually, some older people came traipsing in. people with dreams in their eyes. ideas came together. more progress than he had dared hope for.

after a few (too few, too many, the Host was terrified at his core) years of planning and signs for more ghosts to move in, the tours of the Haunted Mansion began.

The Traveller/Phineas: a Hitchhiking Ghost, of the ones who follow visitors home. chubby, wears a top hat and carries a carpetbag.

life: a greedy man who roamed the Wild West when it was new as a snake oil salesman. exceptionally good at his job due to a friendly demenour that seemed genuine and some of his concoctions having mildly helpful effects, at least for a time long enough he could move on before caught.

death: he was asked to test one of his medications on himself by a patient, and he did. ironically, that medical drink really would have been alright (if not particularly helpful) to pretty much anyone else. unfortunately for Phineas, he turned out to be allergic to one of the ingredients and suffocated.

afterlife: well, that was embarassing. he didn’t stay to watch however his ‘patient’ chose to get rid of his body. he’d always kept moving, and death wouldn’t stop that.

though, naturally, the dead don’t have a use for money, nor medicine. it was a rough first few years, watching others who struck it rich in the areas he visited. he did, however, chill out for the most part by the time he caught word on the wind of a Mansion that had particular space for ghosts. he decided to check it out and wrangled himself a room, though he never stayed long.

when the tours began, he was one of the few given permission to follow mortals home, as the few who enjoyed leaving and judged as reasonable. he struck up a quick friendship with Gus.

if Phineas follows you home, he’s the one who makes odd bumps in the kitchen and bathroom when it’s obvious nobody else is there at night. he can’t use any of it, yet he’s still compelled to check the medicine and other cabinets for ingredients he doesn’t need. plus, it’s fun to get a look into the living’s lives that way. he sometimes drops in on nearby neighbors as well. it’s an unspoken rule not to do that, but hey, unspoken. he’ll stop if someone bothers to tell him to.

The Skeleton/Ezra: the second Hitchhiking Ghost. the tallest, always tipping his hat.

life: an original Great Depresson-era hobo who rode the rails even at an age where most were forced to stop. had tons of skills earned traveling on top of being an excellent theif and pickpocket.

though rarely caught, Ezra was still often chased out of town and violently attacked, constantly had an eye out for danger. always dressed as well as he could, he took clothes almost as often as food.

death: spotted by a particularly cruel trainworker on a bad day, he was dragged out of hiding and thrown from the train at full speed.

afterlife: still, he caught the next one that passed, and he found his way to the Mansion quickly enough. staying in one place was particularly uncomfortable no matter how much he wished it wasn’t the case, and he left often. it took him quite a while to make any friends, polite enough while keeping every other spirit at arm’s length.

was actually somewhat against the tours, though he caved when it seemed to go alright, and took up hitchhiking with mortals with ease and relief. he’s the Only Sane Man of the trio (most of the time).

he’s the most subtle of the spirits when he follows you home, and unsettling. a flash of a skull face in the reflection of a nearby shiny surface. distant chuckling and soft words. he’s not outright malicious, but he definitely makes more trouble for the mortals that live deeply selfish lives. has actual organized lists for the homes he heads into.

The Prisoner/Gus: the third Hitchhiking Ghost. incredibly short, ragged, and hairy. has a ball and chain attached to his ankle.

life: formerly a young seaman, he worked under an uncle who absolutely loathed him for his freakish height and past grudges against his parents. gus was kicked off of the ship at a remote port, accused of planning mutiny, and was thrown into prison. only there wasn’t quite enough for him to be executed. his uncle was a rather high-ranking man, so they just. kept him. for decades.

death: already weak and malnourished, gus was left alone for too long after the port was attacked by actual pirates. all the guards were busy putting the town back together, and he died of dehydration before anyone bothered to check on him.

afterlife: it took him a while to leave, really. haunted the prison for another few years before increasing pirate attacks punched too many holes through it, and he chose to follow a pirate and haunted their ship instead. and the next they passed. and the next, and the next, until he finally made it to land.

wandering the earth painfully slowly, he was still the first Hitchhiking Ghost to make it to the Mansion. there were few haunted around then, and he was allowed in with more welcome than he expected. got his own room and all.

still, his time travelling after the rest of it made staying forever a concern. while he stayed for long stretches of time, he left for periods just as long. Phineas, once he appeared, sometimes came along, and that was glorious. even better when Ezra joined, and Gus (who became lonely easily) considered them friends far earlier than the other way around.

he embraced the tours with great cheer. it was great fun to see all the people, coming from all over the world! he could go even further that way.

he stays the longest when he follows you home, rattling chains being blamed on rattling pipes late at night. he’s absolutely fascinated by anything with a screen, turning things on and adjusting the brightness when nobody else is looking. it’s so far beyond anything he could have imagined in his time and in prison, he can’t help himself!

Madame Leota: a spirit medium. a spirit WITHIN her medium. she’s a head in a floating crystal ball. she helps call the spirits to manifest within the haunted mansion with the help of mortals’ “sympathetic vibrations” for a swinging wake.

life: a natural medium and sometimes fortune teller. the latter wasn’t a genuine power, but she learned enough tricks in reading people to be highly successful in both.

she followed where the voices of the dead were the loudest, and imagine her surprise when she found a mansion that was practically droning with them. the family that owned it at the time moved in only weeks before and were already considering leaving, it was so terrifying and chaotic. when they spotted her, they immediately leapt to beg her for help in banishing the spirits that were tormenting them with their ghastly singing and hellish scraping.

death: hers is unique in that it wasn’t death in the most traditional sense. she called the spirits in the Mansion when it was particularly packed ghostly energy, and the force of all the startled souls and the Mansion itself giving her their full, undivided attention severed her soul from her body, leaving said empty vessel to collapse at the table—to the absolute horror of the rest. (the previous inhabitants fled immediately after, barely bothering to pack.)

afterlife: her soul was locked inside her crystal ball. the strange death left her with chunks of her own memories of mortal life missing. it’s not a deep concern. though her head is the most that can manifest at once, the rest of her abilities were magnified a hundred times, and she cares little for what she may have left behind for it.

she looks down on foolish mortals with their weaker abilities and their ease of being dazzled. she must begrudgingly admit they make summoning spirits to be more coporeal, as well as the odd boosting effects of making the souls feel like more after interaction with them, though.

apart from the Ghost Host, she has the greatest tie to the Mansion itself.

Heartbeat Bride/Emily: a mournful bride who resided in the attic before constance. her heartbeat sound echoed through the room with a bright glow within her chest. retconned out of existance…

life: similar to Constance, was poor, tried to marry for money. had a pretty shitty husband who died in causes unrelated to her, though everyone was suspicious regardless. eventually found another man who courted her well.

the man had an older neighbor with a slightly bowed back and a rather tall hat. she felt a greater connection to him, but she never acted on it, and was never certain if he felt anything for her at all. she would settle for her new husband regardless.

death: (the wedding went badly, but otherwise not sure about this yet, tbh. another time.)

afterlife: she’s gone. where is she? she hasn’t passed on, she shouldn’t be staying, and yet, and yet. she’s a shade in a house of ghosts. her heartbeat is still heard. no-one remembers what it means.

The Hatbox Ghost: a skeletal spirit whose head disappears from his shoulders to reappear within the hatbox he holds in hand. it was supposed to be in sync with the pulse of the heartbeat bride, but in real life he was taken from the ride after his trick failed completely (his head on his shoulders and in the box were often both visible). he made a grand return 46 years later, after constance was installed. if inquired after by visiting mortals, the living maids and butlers will say that he had never left the attic in the first place. while visitors couldn’t see him, he very much could see them.

life: a haberdasher who worked with anyone from the elite to the homeless, pleased with his crafts. a bit of a troublemaker, teasing everyone he encountered, though he rarely intended it to be meanspirited.

he still enemies of the higher class for these things. as he grew older, he was ground down by rude patrons, few who genuinely cared about him, and exhaustion. his younghearted mischief faded, leaving him solely jaded. he had one good friend in…

…in…?

one of the few customers who kept returning in the end was dear Constance Hatchaway, who moved up onto the hill not far from town.

he believed they were friends.

death: he found Constance’s collection of skulls stored in hatboxes. she found him right after. soon after his head was in his own hatbox, kept far away from her husbands’.

afterlife: he’s unable to speak, which is a pity—he’s the one murdered soul who can manifest enough to be seen, when he so chooses.

which, for a long time, he chose not to. he came and went nearly as often as the hitchhiking ghosts themselves to the knowledge of almost no-one (the host, the house, and madame leota being the exceptions). the tours unsettled him. something else unsettled him that he can’t remember anymore. he wanted to stay away from the teeming masses of mortals, and Constance, and the heartbeat in the attic.

The Organist/Herr Victor Geist: an older-looking male ghost who plays the organ in the ballroom for the waltzing dead.

life: a moderately famous organist in Germany, brilliantly skilled. he always appeared intimidating when he played, so lost in his music! he was definitely far friendlier when encountered off the bench.

eclipsing this, he spent the latter half of his lifetime horrifically addicted to opium and alcohol…

death: …and naturally, he passed of a massive overdose after mixing both of his addictions together.

afterlife: he haunted the pipe organ for quite some time. unfortunately, his old church burned down not long before the call for mansion residents went out.

(this is false. he was there for centuries and had lost all sense of time, a common affliction in ghosts.)

he quickly found himself at home with an organ in the ballroom, and also found that his playing is literally enchanting to happy haunts, calling them from miles around—back when there were spooks miles around. now they simply stream in from other parts of the Mansion.

Waltzing Dead: couples who dance in the swinging wake through the ballroom; the women lead the men.

lives: they come from all eras! most of them are genuinely caring couples.

deaths: all sorts. lots of suicides, unfortunately. they’re couples that mainly died together…

afterlives: …though some met in the Mansion itself, finding love after death.

they all look the same b/c they all mananged to change to match, which takes quite a bit of work for a spirit.

Master Gracey: a haunt only known by his tombstone outside the Mansion reading “Master Gracey laid to rest; please, no mourning at his request.” sometimes a single (real) rose is found lying on his plot, or atop the stone itself.

life: a sickly child whose every memory is of the Mansion. his family was one of the first to move in after Constance passed when he was small, and he found himself a few morbid not-so-imaginary friends there.

death: before he even reached his teens, leukimia struck him down. he had time to reassure his family that they gave him the best life they could. it was the truth.

afterlife: he was afraid to leave the Mansion, and so he didn’t. he’s one of the quiet haunts peering out from the wallpaper to watch visitors passing by.

The Aging Man: a portrait of a young man who ages all the way to death before your eyes.

life: one of the Mansion’s owners, and a rare one that lived his whole life there instead of vacating the place after it was obvious something wrong was going on.

death: a heart attack as a withered old man in the dead center of the Mansion.

afterlife: one of the misc. haunts that joins the party in the graveyard. also occasionally goes to pester Constance and the Host when he remembers to stop enjoying his death and confronts them about getting his Mansion back. he bought it himself, dammit. just because they came first doesn’t mean it’s only theirs!

The Haunted Mansion: yes, the Mansion itself. an antebellum…or perhaps a gothic…mansion, home to 999 happy haunts that retired within its walls from all around the world.

life?: awakened by agonizing energy of dual tragedies within the span of a few days—the violent murder of its creator and the miserable suicide of its first caretaker. it quickly seized the Host’s spirit before he could pass on, and its “life” grew stronger.

it learned, slowly, that ghosts gave it a greater awareness than the living. therefore, it would manipulate the Host it had dragged into itself to bring more spirits to haunt its halls.

it isn’t completely malevolent. it’s merely selfish, following in the wake of Constance, who it had been built for in the first place.

though it can be terrible. the Host was an accident out of clumsy instinct. the Heartbeat Bride was not. the Host lost his name, parts of memory, his freedom. Emily lost absolutely everything but the sound of her heart. her sorrow spoiled the party and kept haunts from wanting to stay. as consequence, the Mansion erased her.