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Marissa.


About 'Marissa Summers'Edit

Last night, outside of the walls of The Mansion and at the private home of one of the undercover Mansion bosses, hides a mystery that stretches much farther than the knowledge we usually can control.


The boss at hand remains unknown due to privacy issues so we apologize for any inconvenience here on. Everybody must be warned. We didn't expect an outside visitor, and one so violent and deadly.


Marissa Summers
1984-2006
Marissa worked as a handy-woman designing the interior of The Mansion's private quarters. She was killed in an honest accident as the main room's archway that she was working on dislodged from the ceiling, trapping and crushing her. She died later that night in a hospital downtown, she is sorely missed by everybody. Until now.


The undercover boss that we will name 'John' for this report is the only member of The Mansion who retires to his home after his shift is over. John has a wife and 2 children and has specific medication that he has to take daily prescribed by his personal doctor for his sleeping issues. We allow John to go home because of this, whereas other Mansioneers have strict orders to live at The Mansion until their subscription expires. John had informed us of his problems aswell as his family before we assigned him Boss, it was questionable but acceptable as he is a close friend to us and we have 110% trust in him.


Last month, John was excessively late to work. He looked overly exausted all the time as of late, explaining that his sleeping situation had hit the fan. He was getting around 2 hours a night - if any at all, but was still coming into work apologetic and thankful that he still had his position of Boss. He was keeping this from us like any man would - holding his emotional problems inside and trying to overcome it himself, though we could tell John wasn't himself. He wasn't any different in the way he acted but he seemed simply deflated in the way he was, compared to the man we used to know.


The weekend shift came for John where he wouldn't be going home to sleep. One weekend a month, each boss has a weekend shift in which they get triple pay. He had taken the Friday off beforehand and had called in on the Saturday morning leaving a message with some discomforting news.


"Hi, it's *******. Look, I'm really sorry but I'm going to be late coming in again. I have some information and it's really not good...I should of spoken earlier about this but I just thought it was the lack of sleep playing on my mind. It regards Marissa Summers if you remember her. Anyway, I'll be an hour from now. See ya."


When John arrived at The Mansion's Reception, Barry greeted him with a fresh cup of filtered BNKoffee and an option of breakfast. He turned down the breakfast but still sat in the canteen as he discussed whatever he was talking about. His eyes looked painfully red with heavy, dark bags under his eyelids. He hadn't shaved and he looked rougher than Hell with bed-hair springing in all directions. He was sat with discomfort, squirming on his chair and looking around at all angles of the canteen.


"You sure you're okay? You probably need more days off. We really don't mind," suggested Barry looking concerned. There was a silence from John as he ignored the offer, taking multiple sips from his coffee and holding the paper cup in both hands, consuming the warmth aswell as the fresh coffee.
"No. No...It's alright. I'm alright," said John. He reached down by his chair leg and ruffled through his suitcase pulling out a photograph and placing it face down on the table by his coffee. He began, "I should of spoken sooner about this. It was wrecking my mind trying to think of who it was. I've been having really bad problems with my sleep lately, as you know..." Barry confirms with a nod. Then it struck me. Basically, I haven't been sleeping because I have had visits back at home - from Marissa Summers."
"You mean, the girl who died here a few years back?" Barry asks.
"Yeah, her. But, she's at my house. Why is she at my house? My wife is getting sick of me not sharing the bed for the whole night. I have to keep making up bullshit excuses like I need a drink or yet another midnight piss." John's head falls into his palms as he stressfully rubs his face and eyes, to running his hands through his hair.
"Well. You say she is visiting you? What do you mean? How does she appear or, whatever.." Barry questions, ordering a round of toast for himself.
"The past few nights have been really heavy. I'll lay in bed in pure darkness, eyes shut, but nothing happens. Then I hear this sound outside my bedroom door. Like a shuffling or whatever," John pauses and finishes his coffee, then orders another one as the waiter delivers Barry's toast. "I climb out of bed and go to the door, every damn time I go to reach the door handle, I swear, I hear it run away. There's a short hallway outside our bedroom that descends a few steps, to the corner of the stairway. By the time I open the door I'll hear movement downstairs, by this point my wife switches the bedside lamp on wondering why I'm not in bed." John sighs deeply, toying with the photograph on the table.
"Look man, I don't know? How do you know it's Marissa? And, I suppose your wife just thinks you're nuts. Half the shit that goes on in this Mansion, I believe you - but your wife? Your home?" ponders Barry.
"Exactly," John flips the photograph* around and pushes it towards Barry. "I know it isn't clear but it's her. That's Marissa. You know, Barry, I assigned her to the job all those years back. Maybe...maybe she's getting revenge on me?" the coffee arrives for John and he sighs a relief. Barry looks frightened as he is examining the photograph, moving it around in his arms as if a different angle would release more information.
"Aw, man. It's her yeah. Oh man. What the fuck?" Barry puts the photograph down and sits back in his seat. John looks at him, they both share a silence together with bewildered looks on their faces. Barry's beeper goes off notifying him to begin his day of work. He says goodbye as John stays seated finishing his coffee.


John then reported to headquarters with the photo in hand, explaining the situation he was under. Other bosses ordered him to take a nap as he looked 'like shit' according to Hugh. A nurse gave John a strong sleeping pill which calmly allowed John to sink into a slumber.


John's Dream


He wakes in his bed, it's pitched black and he feels wide awake. A feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. Amongst the dark he reaches over to his wife, consoling her with a sleepy cuddle. She doesn't respond and as his hand gently stroked her arm, he felt a wetness in her pajamas. He sat up turning his bedside lamp on and was instantly blinded by the light - his eyes configured to the brightness, he looked over at his wife. She was lay lifeless, bleeding. Blood was all over the bed covers.
Suddenly, a harsh struggle occurred under the bed. It lifted and shook the bed ever so lightly but indefinitely so. John, in shock and confusement sat upright nearer the pillows when Marissa Summers emerges from the floor. At first he saw her long hair swish above the bedside, then she ran directly out the bedroom. John shouted and jumped off the bed after her, she slammed the door causing him a minor delay. He opened the door and started to run - but found himself frozen. Marissa was stood exactly like in the photograph* he took. She was holding something familiar, his daughters teddy bear. Within a blink of John's eyes, Marissa was face to face with John. She moved the hair from her face and displayed purely white eyes. John fell down to the ground, it shook him and woke him up.


Back at headquarters, John typically rushed from laying down to sitting upwards, sweating and out of breath. Hugh, who was watching over him said, "Bad dream?" smirking and finally standing up saying, "My job's done. You slept all day, John. Just go home. Take the weekend off, we'll sort out your little problem on Monday." John wipes his forehead and stands up saying nothing. He watches Hugh spiral down through the floor vent. John had to go home.


Upon parking in the driveway of his home, police vehicles and yellow tape had been placed all over John's house. John's heart sank. He yanked the seatbelt away from him and slammed the car door open, pelting towards his house. "What's going on? What's happened here!?" he says as dread splashes his face.
"Are you the home owner, sir?" one officer asks as several others hold him back. "You don't wanna go in there." John pushes through the cops and runs wildly indoors slashing through the yelllow tape. He runs past detectives that also try to stop him, they all fail to do so. John saw it. He saw his wife. The nightmare he had. It was real. The teddy bear was on the floor right where he saw Marissa. John almost dropped in shock, not before he checked on his children. He bashed into their shared bedroom and stopped in the middle of the room. There was blood. All over the bunkbed. All over the floor.


John collapsed in tears as officers and detectives followed behind him. They picked him up and took him to the police station.


We haven't heard from John since.

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