Back in the comfort of his home, Li Yi had barely kicked off his shoes and settled onto the well-worn couch, relishing the familiar surroundings after his recent arduous adventures, when his phone jolted him out of his momentary relaxation. Its shrill ring cut through the quiet air, and on the other end was an old acquaintance, a private investigator named Jack Thompson. Jack's voice crackled with urgency, each word tumbling out in a rush as he explained that he had stumbled upon a case that was so confounding, so far beyond the scope of his usual realm of expertise, that he was at his wit's end and desperately needed Li Yi's unique skills.
The job led them to a sprawling, centuries-old manor on the outskirts of a small, sleepy town. As their car rumbled down the long, gravel driveway, the manor gradually came into view. It was a magnificent relic of a bygone era, its imposing stone walls rising up like ancient sentinels, and the ivy that clung to its facade in a tangled embrace added an air of both grandeur and mystery. The leaves of the ivy rustled softly in the gentle breeze, as if whispering secrets of the past. Li Yi, his senses always attuned to the supernatural, could immediately sense an undercurrent of unease that seemed to seep from the very stones of the building.
The current owner, a young heiress named Victoria Sinclair, had inherited the property only recently. Since then, she had been living a nightmare. Every night, as the moon cast its silvery glow through the leaded windows, she would be jolted awake by strange scratching sounds that seemed to originate from the attic. The sounds were frantic, as if something were clawing desperately to break free. In the morning, when she mustered the courage to venture downstairs, she'd find the portraits in the hallways turned upside down, their subjects staring blankly at the ceiling, their painted eyes now seeming to hold a sinister glint.
One particularly harrowing incident had left her trembling and on the verge of hysteria. She had woken up in the dead of night to find a cold, spectral hand resting on her shoulder. Its touch was like ice, sending a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. When she turned, her heart pounding in her chest, she caught a fleeting glimpse of a shadowy figure disappearing through the wall, as if it were made of nothing more than mist. The servants, too, were on edge. They huddled together in the kitchen during their breaks, whispering among themselves about seeing apparitions in the garden. These figures, they said, seemed to flit between the bushes like phantoms, vanishing without a trace as soon as anyone tried to get a closer look.
Li Yi and Jack entered the manor, and immediately, Li Yi's trusty compass, which had seen him through countless supernatural encounters, began to act up. The needle twitched and spun erratically, as if caught in a supernatural whirlwind. Its wild movements led them to the attic stairs. As they climbed, the air grew noticeably colder, each step upward feeling like a descent into a frigid abyss. A musty smell filled their nostrils, a combination of old wood, damp fabric, and the lingering scent of forgotten memories.
The attic was a cluttered mess, a chaotic jumble of old furniture with broken legs and faded upholstery, trunks that had not been opened in decades, and forgotten heirlooms that were now covered in a thick layer of dust. In the corner, Li Yi's eyes were drawn to a large, ornate mirror. Its frame was gilded and carved with intricate patterns that seemed to tell a story of their own, perhaps of long-forgotten romances or tragic events. But the glass was clouded, as if a veil had been drawn across it, hiding something from view. As he approached, he felt a strange pull, as if the mirror were exerting an invisible force, trying to draw him in.
He knew from his extensive studies that mirrors could often be portals to other realms, and this one was clearly no exception. With great caution, his hands trembling slightly from the anticipation of what he might uncover, he began to chant an incantation. The words flowed from his lips in a low, steady murmur, ancient syllables that were designed to reveal any hidden energies. Suddenly, the mirror's surface rippled like water disturbed by a pebble, and a scene from the past emerged.
It was a vision of a young woman, her face contorted in anguish. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her cheeks were streaked with the tracks of her despair. She was being held captive in the attic by her jealous and cruel husband, who had locked her away to keep her from leaving him. The room around her was sparsely furnished, a bare mattress on the floor and a small, rickety table with a half-empty water jug. The woman had eventually died of neglect and despair, her spirit, it seemed, forever trapped within these walls.
Li Yi realized they needed to help her find peace. He began to search through the attic, his fingers running over the dusty surfaces of the trunks and boxes. After some time, he found some of the woman's personal belongings, a locket with a faded photograph of what must have been her family, and a worn diary. The pages of the diary were yellowed and brittle, but the words written in a delicate script told a heartbreaking story of her life and her dreams that had been shattered. These items, he hoped, would serve as a powerful connection to her past life.
He set up a makeshift altar in the attic, carefully placing the items on it. Then, he began a ritual of release, his voice rising and falling in a rhythmic cadence as he called out to the spirit, promising to help her break free from her earthly bonds. As he chanted, the scratching sounds grew louder, as if the spirit were trying to communicate, to tell her side of the story.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the attic, extinguishing the candles that had been casting a warm, flickering glow. In the darkness, a figure materialized. It was the jealous husband's spirit, his form a dark blur, his eyes burning with rage. He lunged at Li Yi, his hands outstretched like claws, ready to attack anyone who dared to interfere with his twisted hold on the past.
Li Yi was prepared. Years of training and experience had honed his reflexes. He quickly formed a series of hand seals, his fingers moving with practiced precision, sending a wave of energy towards the malevolent spirit. The two forces collided, sending shockwaves through the attic. Jack, who had been standing a few feet away, watched in awe as the battle of metaphysical powers unfolded. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape, as he witnessed the display of otherworldly strength.
Using the knowledge he had gleaned from the woman's diary, Li Yi began to recount the husband's sins, his voice steady and resolute. He described in vivid detail the way the man had locked his wife away, denying her food and water at times, and the emotional abuse she had endured. As he spoke, the spirit of the husband faltered, his rage momentarily replaced with shame. His form seemed to waver, as if the truth of his actions were weighing him down.
Taking advantage of the moment, Li Yi intensified his chanting, focusing all his energy on opening a doorway for the woman's spirit to pass through. His face was a mask of concentration, beads of sweat forming on his forehead despite the cold. With a final, bright flash, the woman's spirit emerged, her face now serene, a far cry from the anguish that had been etched on it before. She nodded her gratitude to Li Yi and then stepped through the doorway, disappearing into the light.
The manor was quiet once more. Victoria was overjoyed, her eyes shining with relief and gratitude. She thanked Li Yi profusely, her words tumbling out in a stream of appreciation. But as he left, Li Yi knew that his journey was far from over. There were always more restless souls and unexplained mysteries waiting for him, and he was ready to face whatever came next.
No sooner had he returned to his apartment than his phone buzzed again. This time, it was a call from a renowned university. Their library, filled with rare and ancient books, was experiencing a series of inexplicable events. Books were flying off the shelves on their own, and strange whispers filled the air. Once more, Li Yi packed his bags, eager to take on the new challenge.