Itching Palms

In the dimly lit corridors of a crumbling Victorian manor, a ragtag crew of fortune seekers converges, each lured by the whispered legend of a bank robber's clandestine hoard concealed within its walls. Gertrude Claire, as the matriarchal keeper of the house, exudes a stoic authority that belies the tremors of dread coursing through the timber. Robert Walker, the charismatic yet morally ambiguous leader, orchestrates a meticulous search, his eyes flickering between greed and fear. Thomas G. Lingham portrays the skeptical deputy, whose rational mind battles the inexplicable phenomena that manifest—spectral whispers, cold drafts, and fleeting shadows that seem to guard the treasure. Virginia Fox embodies the ingénue, a naive scholar of folklore whose academic curiosity morphs into terror as the house's history unfurls. Joseph Harrington and Richard Cummings provide comic relief, their bumbling attempts at ghost‑hunting juxtaposing the grim stakes. As the night deepens, the house's reputation for hauntings becomes palpable: doors slam without cause, portraits weep unseen tears, and a mournful piano chord reverberates from an empty ballroom. The tension escalates when a hidden compartment is finally uncovered, revealing not gold but a ledger of sins, a testament to the robber's violent past. The revelation forces each character to confront their own avarice and culpability, culminating in a desperate scramble that blurs the line between the living and the spectral. In the end, the house stands silent, its secrets intact, while the survivors flee, forever haunted by the knowledge that some riches are better left buried.