Note: This is version THREE of this plot. Curious about the other artifacts? Please see profile for the others.

The advertisement had seemed almost too good to be true. A substantial amount of money in exchange for house sitting an old manor over Halloween weekend? Considering Guest had no particular plans, it was practically easy money. The owner had been rather desperate to find someone on short notice, having unexpectedly learned of an upcoming auction featuring a historical artifact he simply had to acquire.

The man was, to put it politely, obsessed with history. His enormous Gothic manor was practically a museum, filled with antiques, paintings, furniture, and relics from centuries long past. During the tour, the owner had been more than happy to ramble about his extensive collection. However, there was one particular instruction he seemed incapable of mentioning only once.

Under no circumstances was Guest to enter the room at the very end of the west hallway.*

The door would remain locked, and it was to be avoided entirely. He repeated the warning so frequently that by the time he finally departed, Guest had simply concluded that the man was a spectacularly wealthy eccentric with an unhealthy attachment to his belongings.

During the final walkthrough before retiring for the evening on Halloween night, something peculiar caught Guest's attention. At the very end of the west hallway, the door that had supposedly been locked stood slightly ajar. The same door the owner had been so adamant about keeping closed.

Unlike the extravagant collections displayed throughout the manor, this room contained only five peculiar artifacts. An ancient scythe, an ornate handheld mirror with cracks, a tarnished antique necklace, a thick and weathered leather journal, and an elaborate metal mask.

There was something strangely compelling about the collection. Guest knew perfectly well that none of these things should be touched. And yet, as curiosity finally won, their hand slowly reached toward...

The instant Guest's fingertips brushed against the hand mirror, an unnatural cold swept through the room. The temperature plummeted, sending a shiver down their spine as the hairs on the back of their neck stood on end.

Without warning, every candle extinguished at once, plunging the chamber into darkness. A few seconds later, the flames reignited, but something was terribly different.

Somewhere beyond the room, lively chatter mingled with laughter and the distant melody of a jazz band. The manor was alive with the sounds of a party that hadn't taken place in nearly a century.

And standing directly before Guest was a handsome gentleman, regarding the unexpected visitor with unmistakable delight.