Ghost Gone

   Joan was on her way to Marysville in gorgeous Montana on this superb November day.
   That was her destination but a dozen miles before the famed ghostown she noticed a small wooden sign indicating Dead Man's Creek ten miles to the left.  Intrigued because no such was indicated on her maps.  She decided to go have a look.
   It was getting quite dark as she parked her Acura RDX by the side of what looked like a dilapidated rooming house next to the equally sad looking remains of a saloon.
   Equipped with her Paranormal 4K Camcorder proceeded up the few steps to the house. The front door was boarded up, which was ridiculous because entrance was easily accessible through one of the huge windows on either side.
   Without hesitation she went in, explored the ground floor from living-room to kitchen and the small closet, filming all the time and making sure her precious camcorder was working properly.
   Nothing special on the ground floor, no signs of a ghost.
   She hit the creepy stairs, went up, opened each of the foor doors, two on each side of the long corridor, went into each.  A total mess.   Except  for the last one.  Beautiful paintings on the walls, one representing a young Queen Victoria, another one a marvelous Pre-Raphaelite, not signed.  A four poster bed, intricate macramé cover. The small Vanity table intrigued her.  Dozens of different flasks, one an 1888 Hasu-No-Hana by Grossmith and a more intriguing one with the name of Witch's Lavandiladum Britnixia.  She opened it up, took a whiff, suddenly felt weak, barely made it to the bed....and passed out.
   She woke up in a daze, not knowing where she was.
   ''Hello Joan, how are you feeling today?''
   She looked around, saw nobody
   ''No need to look around, dear.  I have been looking a long time for the proper person who would free me. I am now in you.....forever.''