Madeline sat on the majestic four-poster bed with the covers pulled up around her. The room was dimly lit, with a single lamp on the bedside table casting a warm glow. She was reading intently from the book she had stolen from Sandra's room, "The Secret Life of Judge Parker." The book was old, with yellow pages and a musty smell. As she turned the pages, she felt a sense of excitement and intrigue building inside her.  

As she read the book's pages, her imagination ran wild. She pictured Judge Parker, a wealthy and judicial man, hiding his connection with the underworld and his ill-gotten gains. The book portrayed Judge Parker's lavish lifestyle in great detail. Madeline imagined the opulent parties and extravagant dinners held at his mansion. She found numerous mentions of a mansion and passionately believed that this mansion concealed those very treasures. She was certain that was what James had written about, too. 

Suddenly, there was a tap at her door, which startled her. She quickly hid the book under the covers and nestled into the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. 

Her voice sounded weak as she answered, "Come in."

Lorrie pushed the door open and entered, carrying a tray of food. "I brought you some sandwiches, fruit, and some cakes. I figured you wouldn't be joining us for dinner."

Madeline moaned and shook her head. "I can't imagine what's come over me."

Lorrie tried to look concerned and warned, "I've heard there's going to be a storm. You should try to get some rest."

Madeline rolled her eyes, confident Lorrie did not know what she was talking about. "It's been sunny outside all day. Not a cloud in the sky. I don't think it will storm."

Lorrie buried her chuckle and answered, "Mark my word, there'll be a big one tonight. It might stir up some spirits." She quickly added, "Sorry, that's an old joke. Nothing to worry about."

Madeline was not amused by Lorrie's babbling, "What nonsense! There's no such thing as ghosts. And if there were, I am sure you'd find them in the cemetery, not here."

 "You don't believe in them?" Lorrie moved closer to the bed, her eyes widening. She lowered her voice, "I once heard that this entire home was haunted." She leaned toward Madeline, asking, "I wonder what that would be like?"

Lorrie's presence was becoming annoying. She wanted to return to studying the book. She growled, her tone surly, "Go away with you, woman. Your foolishness gives me a headache." She raised her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. 

Amused, Lorrie hid her smile as she headed to the door. "Will you be needing anything else?"

"No, I'll be fine. I've found some reading material to entertain me if I get bored."

"Reading material?" Lorrie shuffled a few steps. "Anything interesting?"

Madeline stiffened, wondering if Lorrie knew about the book and Judge Parker since Noah had shared everything with the housekeeper instead of her. "Lorraine, did my poor deceased husband ever mention a judge — oh, what was his last name? Perkins? Patterson? Parker, that was it, Judge Parker."

"Judge Parker? I don't recall, but why do you ask? Is it something important?" Lorrie slyly asked. 

"No, no, of course not. It was just a name that came to me—" she coughed, fearing she'd piqued the housekeeper's curiosity. "I think it was in some papers Noah gave me to read. The Judge might have signed them or something. It's nothing to worry about," Madeline sighed. "I need to rest."

The housekeeper moved to the door, barely able to contain her thoughts. "Yes, get some rest." She opened the door, stepped into the hallway, and pulled it closed behind her. She chuckled and leaned against it, muttering, "Because you'll need it."

***** 

As James and Judge Parker stood at the end of the dimly lit hallway, Lorrie hurried towards them, her stout body shaking with excitement.  

"I am sure that the woman has the book," said Lorrie breathlessly, looking at the Judge. "She's been asking questions about you."

The Judge's face remained calm and composed. "I think you mean my grandfather, but it doesn't matter. Tonight, I will be the one visiting her, among others."

Lorrie's wide eyes shone with anticipation. "You'll scare the daylights out of her, won't you? She says she doesn't believe in ghosts, you know."

"We'll see how she feels about that in the morning," the Judge replied with amusement. For now, I need to check if Benny and Ryan have connected with anyone who can help us with the storm."

Lorrie gasped, "That sounds like a witch's brew."

The Judge chuckled. "I'm sure a few witches are among the crowd."

Having listened to Lorrie and the Judge, James interjected, "We need to check on Sandra as well. It wouldn't bode well if she heard anything tonight."

Lorrie patted James's arm. "Not to worry. She'll sleep like a baby with a cup of my grandmother's secret tea. The girl won't be disturbed — especially by Madeline's screams." Chuckling, Lorrie turned and hurried down the stairs to her kitchen. 

***** 

Madeline had always been a night owl, finding solace in the tranquility of the late hours when the world around her seemed to slip into a quiet slumber. The soft glow of the moonlight cascaded into her room, casting shadows on the walls and floor. The wind whistled around the windows as she lay in her bed, causing the drapes to sway back and forth.  

Suddenly, the outside lit up with a thunderous boom as a lightning bolt cracked across the sky, illuminating the room in a blinding flash. The sound was deafening, reverberating through her bones, making her heart pound against her chest. Startled, she climbed out of bed and hurried to close the drapes, shutting out the storm.  

Another crack of thunder boomed, and a tree branch slapped against the window, making Madeline jump and scream. She ran back to her bed, climbing in and pulling the comforter around her tightly. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease.  

She scolded herself, "How silly! Are you letting that babbling old lady get to you?" Then, she added, "Instead, you should think about the book and what treasures the Judge left for you to discover."  

Her hands fumbled beneath the covers, recovering the coveted book, and slipped it under her pillow. Satisfied it was safe, she burrowed deeper beneath the thick comforter, hoping to drown out the relentless noise from outside and find sleep. 

Her imagination ran wild as she listened to the gnarled tree branches scraping against the windowpanes like long claws trying to scratch their way inside. The raindrops pelted the roof with a continuous thud, sounding like soldiers marching in unison. The wind howled like a thousand tortured souls wailing in the night. Despite the eerie sounds, Madeline closed her eyes and tried to find sleep.   

Unbeknownst to her, a shadowy figure sat in a chair across the room, watching her intently. He waited for Madeline to drift off to sleep before making his move.  

As exhaustion finally overtook her, Madeline slipped into a restless sleep, haunted by a mysterious figure.  

Silent as a whisper, he approached her bedside, his ethereal form barely visible in the dim light. He dropped his satin robe at the bedside and slipped beneath the covers. His icy fingers touched Madeline's cheek, and his breath caressed her. She stirred slightly but remained in a deep slumber.   

The man grinned wickedly, relishing the fear he was about to instill in his unsuspecting victim. His lips brushed against her hair, her neck, and down across her throat. He moved his ghostly hands over her body, commanding her unwilling body to surrender to his touch. She moaned as he continued to caress her body.   

Suddenly, he stopped and gazed at her writhing body. Her lips moved as she begged, "Don't stop. Please, don't stop." 

Leaning close, he whispered, "But I must! Though it pleasures me." His voice changed as he hissed, "You have been judged guilty, Madeline, of crimes you cannot escape. I am here to deliver your punishment." His laughter was piercing. 

Madeline's eyes snapped open in horror as she saw the ghostly figure looming over her. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. She quickly realized the room had changed, and she no longer was in the mansion. 

It was a familiar place - a dimly lit room where she used to work as a prostitute. It had been years since she left that life behind, but the memories would haunt her tonight.  

Madeline leaped from the bed, running towards the door. But the figure was faster, appearing in front of her in a swirl of dark mist. His eyes glowed with malice as he reached out to grab her, intent on dragging her into the depths of hell. 

The figure laughed malevolently, his breath cold against her skin. "What's the rush? You used to enjoy bringing men to their climax, begging for more. Isn't that how you trapped me?"

Horror engulfed her as she recognized the face of her dead husband in front of her. "Noah, please," Madeline begged, her voice barely a whisper in the darkness. "You said you loved me."

But Noah only laughed a cruel sound that echoed through the room like a ghostly cry. "You can't escape me, Madeline. I know your secrets, your sins."

Her legs were wobbly with fear, and her body went cold with dread as Noah's words hung in the air like a death sentence. She tried to run, but her feet felt heavy as lead, rooted to the spot as if by some unseen force. She felt panic clawing at her chest as she realized the demons of her past would force her to confront them. 

As Noah drew closer, his face contorted in a wicked grin. "You thought you could leave that life behind, but you were wrong. You stole my life." His hand, cold and clammy, stroked her breast. "And now you belong to me to do as I wish."

Madeline's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.   

To her surprise, the barrier between them shattered like glass, and she stumbled forward, away from Noah's menacing gaze. His laughter echoed behind her.  

She found herself outside in the storm. Frantic, she ran as fast as she could. But no matter how far she ran, she could feel Noah's eyes on her, his presence looming like a shadow at her back.  

As she rounded a corner, Madeline stumbled upon an old, abandoned building. Without thinking, she pushed open the creaking door and staggered inside, seeking shelter from the storm and praying Noah wouldn't find her. The inside of the building was dark and musty, the air heavy with the scent of decay.  

His haunting laughter told her she was not alone.   

Shrouded in darkness, a figure stood in the corner, watching her with cold, unseeing eyes. As the figure stepped into the dim light, Madeline felt her blood run cold. She cringed under his gaze, whimpering, "Noah."

He advanced toward her, his steps slow and deliberate as if savoring the fear that gripped her heart. Madeline's mind whirled with terror as she tried to understand what was happening. "Please, don't do this. You said you loved me." 

Noah whispered, his voice a chilling echo in the empty room. "You said the same, my dear." He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her neck. "Relax. The night is just beginning."