A chill wind whistled through the swampy grounds. Sabrina Spellman shivered, wishing again that she'd thought to wear a warmer outfit. Poking his head out from the backpack Sabrina wore, Salem scowled. "Not much, is it?" he drawled. Sabrina's lips briefly quirked upwards in a shadow of a smile, before she shivered again.

"And just why are we doing this again?" the teenage witch muttered angrily.

Twenty minutes earlier...

Sabrina tapped her feet against the floor of the waiting room outside of Drell's office. Upon her arrival home from detention (Even teleporting oneself to school didn't save one from the evil clutches of Mr. Kraft, ever on the lookout for late students), Aunt Zelda had nervously handed her a summons from the Other Realm.

She had bravely trooped off to the linen closet, Salem tagging curiously behind. After all, there was no sense in prolonging one's doom…especially with an impatient Head of the Witches' Council waiting for her.

The door to his office opened. "SABRINA SPELLMAN," a voice boomed, "ENTER."

"What is this, the Wizard of Oz?" the teen witch muttered, as she straightened up and walked into the room. Inside, she was greeted by the sight of Drell, seated behind a massive oaken desk, and Skippy, seated in a squishy-looking blue armchair that was horribly out of place with the furnishings.

Sabrina smiled and nodded to Skippy, who grinned and waved, not uttering a sound. Then again, the petite man never spoke, so that wasn't exactly unusual. She turned and gave Drell a quick bow—she wasn't sure what kind of mood he was in, and formality was better than risking his temper.

Drell motioned to a high-backed wooden chair behind her. "Have a seat."

As Sabrina sat, Salem circled her ankles, and then leaped onto her lap. Drell's eyes narrowed. "You brought the cat. You know how I feel about the cat."

"And good afternoon to you too," Salem purred. As long as he was with Sabrina, and technically wasn't TOO provoking, Drell could do nothing to him.

Drell glared at the cat for a few more moments, until Sabrina cleared her throat. "Ah, yes, back to the business at hand." He picked up a manila folder in front of him, riffled through the contents briefly, and shoved the folder at her. "Here's your first assignment, Detective."

Sabrina was sure her jaw must have hit the carpeted floor. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute! 'Detective?' 'Assignment?' WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Drell folded his hands and gave her the patient, slightly patronizing look he wore before delivering a sentence, elucidating difficult things to Sabrina, or explaining to Aunt Hilda why he'd stood her up on their last date. "I've just attended an inter-dimension meeting with other heads of state," he began.

Sabrina sighed. "Yes…?" she prompted.

"And I was speaking with the Head of Administration of a realm called Reikai…"

Sabrina frowned slightly. "Yes…?"

"And he was speaking of a special department he oversees—a sort of investigation task force…"

Sabrina groaned, burying her head in her hands. "What about it?"

"He called them the 'Reikai Tantei,' which translates to 'Spirit Detective.' I thought it was kind of neat…"

Sabrina considered beating herself silly on the sharp edge of the desk. "And so…you set up a department like this of your own, didn't you?"

Drell beamed. "You're the first member. Now, no more time to delay. Here's your assignment—there should be a portal coming to pick you up in a few minutes—and have a great time!"

"What?" she shrieked, abruptly standing up. Salem yowled in protest as he was dumped off her lap onto the floor. "You can't do this to me! I've had no training, have virtually no fighting skills, no previous warning of this, and…" Sabrina groped for a final reason. "It's a school night!" she finished triumphantly.

Skippy, hands on hips, nodded vigorously, taking up Sabrina's cause. He waggled his finger at Drell in a scolding gesture.

Drell shrugged. "Not my problem!" he chirped cheerfully. He ignored Sabrina's second shriek of protest, as a swirling white-and-pink vortex appeared in the doorway. Drell stepped from behind his desk, placed a hand on Sabrina's shoulder, picked Salem up by the scruff of his neck, and gave them a shove into the vortex. As their forms disappeared, he waved goodbye. "We'll discuss this later! Have a great time!" he called, in the manner of a mother sending a reluctant child off to school.

And thus began the first day of Sabrina Spellman's career as Other Realm Spirit Detective.

Now, Sabrina and Salem stood before a huge wrought-iron gate, looking onto the swampy land below them. A dirt driveway led downward from the gate, with gnarled trees clustering on either side. The swampy grove extended as far as Sabrina could see. Behind her, a large river swept through the landscape, connecting, through other rivers and canals, to the ocean. A small river flowed out of the larger one, touching the front of the house. Advantageous, Sabrina mused. Access by both land and water.

The portal had dumped them unceremoniously onto the dirt road right in front of the gates. Once she had brushed the dirt off her dress, Sabrina consulted Drell's folder, which had somehow made it into her backpack. According to the first document, they were in Louisiana, about twenty-five miles outside of New Orleans. Surveying the wild, gloomy countryside around her, Sabrina had wondered if it wasn't more.

The place she was to investigate was known as 'Gracey Manor.' The history the document had recanted was brief. It had been the home of the prestigious Gracey family since the early 1800s. Sometime shortly after the Civil War, the family had disappeared, as well as the many servants and guests known to be staying at the Mansion. The grounds decayed, and locals claimed to have seen ghosts on the grounds of the house, as well as a hideous spirit-like face that shot from the house to the gate to warn off trespassers. Many blamed the 'curse,' as they called it, on a gypsy woman obsessed with the occult who had befriended the family.

Drell had been receiving reports of rising amounts of dark supernatural activity. He was becoming worried. Now, Sabrina was to investigate the cause of the dark energy, and perhaps even crack the mystery behind the Gracey home. She sighed. The last thing I wanted to be doing tonight is investigating a haunted house…scratch that, I don't want to investigate a haunted house ever! But…if I leave, Drell's gonna find out, and get royally pissed…

"Sabrina, I don't wanna do this," Salem began to whine. "It'll be really sca-scary! And despite what they say, cats do not have nine lives, so if I die of a heart attack…"

"Quit whining, you baby," Sabrina rolled her eyes; "we'll just take a look around and leave. Twenty minutes, tops."

"Fine," Salem whimpered.

Sabrina turned around to stuff the folder into her backpack. We'll just look around, tell Drell it was just a bunch of ghosts angry at people sneaking onto the property, find out why he thought ANY of this was a good idea, and be back in time to watch 'Dawson's Creek'…

As Sabrina turned around, the gate creaked open. Sabrina's jaw dropped a little. "Did you open it?" she whispered to Salem.

"Did you?" he whispered, also staring at it.

The gates were imposing, nearly twice the height of a grown man, and adorned with the lacy ironwork typical of New Orleans. The apex featured an oval bearing a Gothic-styled letter 'G.' She licked her lips, examining them, as the gate door nearest them creaked further, a macabre invitation to enter.

Sabrina gulped, picked up the backpack with Salem in it, and started toward the house. As she walked, she also wished she'd thought to wear more comfortable shoes.

"Tell me again why you decided to point up that outfit," Salem drawled, eyeballing her dress.

"It's a haunted mansion," Sabrina sighed. "Shouldn't I look the part?"

If Salem's feline features would have allowed him to raise an eyebrow, he would have done so. Instead, he settled for a disbelieving stare.

Sabrina fidgeted. "Okay, maybe I…saw it in a magazine and thought it was cute, and wanted to try it out," she mumbled.

The dress was black and buttoned down the front, with a slightly flared skirt ending midway around her thighs. Under it, she had pointed up crinoline petticoats, adding black knee-length boots to match the dress. Sabrina had worn her hair in braids today, so she decided fasten each with a twist of black ribbon as a gleeful, if slightly macabre, touch.

"But did you have to add the black eye shadow?" Salem snorted.

"…I balanced it out with pink lip gloss," she mumbled.

"You look like a wannabe Goth."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

The pair bickered amiably over Sabrina's fashion sense (or, as Salem teased, lack thereof), as they continued down the winding driveway. It was cold, even for October, and despite it being afternoon, dark gray clouds hung oppressively over the forest swampland. Occasional drafts of icy wind hissed through the trees. Sabrina bit her lip, trying to ignore what sounded like faint whispering, while Salem yelped that there were bats in the trees.

It's not the bats I'm worried about…it's those faintly glowing red eyes in the shadows of the bog…

Walking quickly, Sabrina kept her eyes in front of her. Salem huddled into a ball in the bottom of the backpack, whimpering all the while. Fraidy-cat, she thought affectionately. But all of a sudden, the house itself loomed in front of them, and Sabrina forgot everything else.

It was beautiful, once. Three stories tall, and an aged shade of white, it was everything an antebellum mansion should be. Graceful wrought-iron pillars propped up the porch, while balconies and windows nearly covered the façade. An enormous glass-and-iron dome of a conservatory bulged at one end. She had to crane her head back to see the cupola at the very top.

But the house itself and the grounds had fallen under massive decay.

The slimy water lethargically stretched to the porch, where weeds grew from cracks between the stones. Years of exposure to the elements in the bayou tinged spots of the marble façade a sickly green. Mist seemed to emanate from behind the house, swirling around the sides and snaking into the front drive. Spider webs stretched between the four huge pillars holding up the porch.

Sabrina breathed in, then out. Come on, Spellman, you're a witch! You're supernatural, yourself! Why should you, of all people, be afraid of ghosts?

As she started up the drive that led to the porch, Sabrina glanced in the water. Was it her imagination feeding on the fearful atmosphere of the place, or was that a bony hand she saw just under the surface? She shut her eyes, praying, and hurried to the porch.

Sabrina bit her lip, reaching out a hand to brush away the cobwebs obscuring her path. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a dull-green spider with what looked like fangs scuttling towards her. With a shriek, Sabrina rushed through the web, and scrambled up the steps, nearly tripping several times.

With a start, she found herself standing in front of the huge stone double doors of the mansion. She paused, eying the brass lion-head knockers. They were so old that the metal was covered with tarnish. Sabrina hesitantly raised a hand to push the door open, when the door nearest her slowly swung open of its own accord.

Sabrina narrowed her eyes, and looked over her shoulder at Salem, who was shivering, and just barely poking his head out. "Here we go…" Sabrina muttered.

On the second-floor balcony of the Foyer, six figures watched the young girl that entered. Their faint pearly glow lent the balcony a slight aura.

"She seems to be a nice young girl," smiled a grandmotherly ghost. She adjusted her spectacles as she beamed at Sabrina.

To her right, an elderly man dressed in a European-style cape and suit popular in Beethoven's day leaned forward to get a better look, squinting as he examined her clothing. "What on Earth is she wearing? She looks like a beggar." He frowned, his nasal tone giving a hint of disapproval.

A rotund man who bore a strong resemblance to King Henry VIII scoffed at the organist. "We can't pick and choose," he boomed, "and you know it. Besides…er…styles do change…"

"But she's so young," sighed the woman on his right, a stereotypical classical opera diva. "Do you think she could be at all possibly ready for this?"

The man next to her, wearing a morning suit, twirled his ghostly pistol around his finger thoughtfully. "Ah don' rightly know. She looks like a reg'lar lil' lady ter me. Best see how she holds up undah fahr, ah reckon," he drawled.

"Come, come," interrupted the knight at the duelist's shoulder. He shifted his head higher where he carried it in the crook of his arm. "It is high time we introduced ourselves to the lady."

The others ghosts nodded, and began to float down from the balcony.

Sabrina looked around. Wow, this place is huge! The foyer they stood in was impressively large. A double staircase flanked a doorway across from the main door. The second floor that the staircase led to had a small balcony on either side. An enormous gold-and-crystal chandelier hung above her head. Paintings hung on every wall.

Of course, it would have been more impressive had the lights been turned on, the potted plants alive, and dust and cobwebs not sticky-thick on everything.

Yet, as far as she could see, they were alone. No creepy-crawlies, no spooky ghosts, and no grotesque monsters. Nothing. "Salem, it's okay," she hissed. "We're alone." The cat poked his head out, and swiveled his gaze around the room.

He began to quake even more—Sabrina could feel him vibrating against her. "No, we're not," he whimpered.

"Huh?" Sabrina looked around. "I don't…"

Six pearly-luminescent figures descended from the second-floor balcony to hover roughly six feet in front of her. Ghosts!

Sabrina's mouth opened, her eyes growing huge. She had never seen a ghost before, and despite being a witch possessing supernatural powers, Sabrina was very 'normal' in many aspects. She was half-human, after all.

So, she did the only sensible thing that any normal person would do. She keeled over on the floor in a dead faint.

The pirate ghost winced. "Ouch. That's going to leave a mark, it will."

The knight sighed. "Come. There is not much time. SHE is waiting."

The ghostly welcoming committee gently hovered around Sabrina, before picking her up and transporting her out of the Foyer.

Author's Note:

Hello! My name is Crescent Venus, and this is the first installation in my fun and freaky "The Spirit Detective Files" fic series. This is a Sabrina the Teenage Witch crossover with various other properties (Disney so far, and an eventual Yu Yu Hakusho one as well). The "Sabrina the Teenage Witch" portion of this is a blend of the different types of the franchise: the original comics, the "manga" reboot, and the TV show. (I'll admit that it was hard choosing just one, but there are so many fun elements to use!) Characters from the different versions will make appearances, but not all of them (sadly, we don't have enough time/room for that!). The Haunted Mansion in the story is a blend of the ride as well as the movie adaptation and the video game (that was adapted from the movie).

The series is rated T/PG-13 for thematic elements and occasional language. If semi-graphic violence or occasional profane language disturbs you, please be warned.

As a general disclaimer, I do not own any of the intellectual properties used in this work (Sabrina, the Teenage Witch and Disney's Haunted Mansion). This work is intended solely for entertainment, and no profit is being made. (I do make occasional pop culture or history references; I make no claim to any of those properties, as well.)

This story is actually more heavily based off the game, although I'll be tying in some finer plot elements from the ride's backstory. Some names and character backgrounds are taken from the Haunted Mansion fan site, Doombuggies. It's a fun site (not endorsed by Disney) that tries to create stories for the Haunted Mansion characters. Other names are taken from Disney Imagineers or from the movie.

Also, as a whim of fancy, I've very briefly tied in some of Yu Yu Hakusho, which has to be one of the best anime TV shows in the world. The characters from Yu Yu Hakusho will not be showing up until much later, and not in this story. I just wanted to point this out before anybody became confused by the first chapter.

Other things to keep in mind while reading:

The story is set in 1999, which means that, following the canon of the television show, Sabrina should be nineteen. However, STTW has two sets of canon plot: the television show and the comics/manga (Okay, there IS the movie made before the show, but I don't think that counts). I'm incorporating elements from both the television show and the comics/manga, which means that some elements may be tweaked for plot purposes. I apologize for any confusion that may arise. Sabrina's birthday falls in May (the "manga" canon) instead of August/September like it does on the TV show. So she's seventeen (will turn eighteen before she graduates), and a senior in high school.

The Haunted Mansion is in the same plane of reality as Sabrina's world (i.e. It's in the same U.S.A. she lives in, same dimension, etc).

According to this story, Zeke Holloway (the hero of the actual video game) did not go to the Mansion to save the residents. He is tied into its past in another way, however.

A note about the formatting:

Italicized words are internal thoughts/dialogue.

Bolded words are for verbal emphasis on spoken dialogue.

Bolded and italicized words are flashbacks.

Dividing lines are for changes of scene or point of view, or for marking the end of the chapter.

6/19/12: Hoo boy, I just can't let go of editing, can I? This is about the third round of editing that this story has undergone. To be fair, I started writing this back in high school, so it's a little rougher than my writing these days. The editing, for new readers who may be curious, is not major for the most part: re-checking for typos, occasional changes to dialogue to make it flow better, clarifying plot points, and removing two things I can't believe I added: Sabrina swearing like a sailor, and Thorne's pseudo-Shakespearian speech pattern (WHAT was I thinking?). I do read my reviews critically for hints to help improve my work, so don't be surprised if you re-read and find it slightly different the next time around.

I also went ahead and added this author's note/disclaimer to the first chapter and deleted all prior Reader Review Responses in order to comply with regulations (the price of doing business, I'm afraid).