PROLOGUE
The old Calloway House sat the top of the hill, with barren trees surrounding it like an army of dead soldiers.
It had the archetypical look of every creeping, eerie and dilapidated haunted house ever imagined.
The two children could easily imagine ghosts or other evil entities inhabiting the rooms, crouching low behind the broken glass of the windows.
Creeping slowly up the broken paving stones of the drive, they held hands, bravely advancing on the main gate, their eyes as big as pie plates.
The boy, Brian, was putting on airs, trying to act brave in front of his sister, Kim.
Well, his stepsister, actually.
The old house had quite a reputation in the neighborhood amongst the other kids. Some said that the previous owner had murdered his entire family with an ax. Some of the kids talked about Satanic rituals, held on the night of the Harvest Moon. Some said that kids that had ‘moved’ during the year were sacrificed to demons to assure a prosperous harvest for the coming year.
Brian would simply point out that the farming community had long ago been urbanized. The others’ protests were then usually shouted down, or these believers would eventually leave, embarrassed when it was evident Brian knew the truth.
Even at that young age, he realized that some people wanted the fantastic to be real, that there was power in being able to mold opinion, even if it were completely and provably bunk.
Brian listened, carefully, evaluating the dreck from the facts, and sifting the fine pieces of evidence to ultimately know what was reality.
Brian and Kim had endlessly discussed the mystery surrounding the place, and tried to discover any angle that would shed light on the reason everyone thought it was ‘haunted.'
Even in the summer, and especially when the rains were pelting it with greasy drops of water, the house exuded evil.
It wasn't any one thing, but the entire appearance of the place, coupled with the strange, deserted architecture and rambling garden; the awkwardly planted trees and shrubs; the general disrepair of the structure.
Everything combined to make Calloway House something that seemed to seethe with unclean or nasty things.
Brian and Kim had always remained steadfast, through the long seasons, to the mission of investigating the haunted mansion.
*****
Brian and Kim had decided that the best time for an investigation would be Halloween night. They would be able to roam freely, without the constriction of a parent in tow, because the neighborhood was perceived as being safe.
Once they had amassed a suitable amount of candy, they’d pitch their costumes behind a couple of garbage cans near the gates.
On the road leading to the mansion, they had hidden their technical gear behind the garbage cans, in some brush.
When they had arrived, they rummaged a bit, then retrieved their camera and recorder.
The old and angry-looking Calloway House stood watch at the end of the drive. To them, it looked like a dark angel has taken up residence and kept everyone out.
*****
In full investigative mode, they decided to skirt the perimeter of the place, until they came across the opening in the fence they had found during their earlier daytime investigations.
Brian lifted the fence so Kim could scoot under, and then she held it for him while he ducked under as well.
His shirt, caught by a piece of sharp wire, tore slightly.
“Oh!” said Kim. “I hope you're okay!”
She smiled at him, and he felt his heart suddenly sing.
“It's nothing,” he said while at the same time worried that his mother might be upset at yet another tear in his limited wardrobe.
They pushed their flashlights ahead of them and crept towards the old house. The dim light barely cut the dark ahead of them, and Brian swore that next time they would carry the proper gear. Maybe even night-vision goggles, he wished hopefully.
Spooky noises could be heard in the trees, but Brian thought it was probably just an owl.
Kim was
The old Calloway House sat the top of the hill, with barren trees surrounding it like an army of dead soldiers.
It had the archetypical look of every creeping, eerie and dilapidated haunted house ever imagined.
The two children could easily imagine ghosts or other evil entities inhabiting the rooms, crouching low behind the broken glass of the windows.
Creeping slowly up the broken paving stones of the drive, they held hands, bravely advancing on the main gate, their eyes as big as pie plates.
The boy, Brian, was putting on airs, trying to act brave in front of his sister, Kim.
Well, his stepsister, actually.
The old house had quite a reputation in the neighborhood amongst the other kids. Some said that the previous owner had murdered his entire family with an ax. Some of the kids talked about Satanic rituals, held on the night of the Harvest Moon. Some said that kids that had ‘moved’ during the year were sacrificed to demons to assure a prosperous harvest for the coming year.
Brian would simply point out that the farming community had long ago been urbanized. The others’ protests were then usually shouted down, or these believers would eventually leave, embarrassed when it was evident Brian knew the truth.
Even at that young age, he realized that some people wanted the fantastic to be real, that there was power in being able to mold opinion, even if it were completely and provably bunk.
Brian listened, carefully, evaluating the dreck from the facts, and sifting the fine pieces of evidence to ultimately know what was reality.
Brian and Kim had endlessly discussed the mystery surrounding the place, and tried to discover any angle that would shed light on the reason everyone thought it was ‘haunted.'
Even in the summer, and especially when the rains were pelting it with greasy drops of water, the house exuded evil.
It wasn't any one thing, but the entire appearance of the place, coupled with the strange, deserted architecture and rambling garden; the awkwardly planted trees and shrubs; the general disrepair of the structure.
Everything combined to make Calloway House something that seemed to seethe with unclean or nasty things.
Brian and Kim had always remained steadfast, through the long seasons, to the mission of investigating the haunted mansion.
*****
Brian and Kim had decided that the best time for an investigation would be Halloween night. They would be able to roam freely, without the constriction of a parent in tow, because the neighborhood was perceived as being safe.
Once they had amassed a suitable amount of candy, they’d pitch their costumes behind a couple of garbage cans near the gates.
On the road leading to the mansion, they had hidden their technical gear behind the garbage cans, in some brush.
When they had arrived, they rummaged a bit, then retrieved their camera and recorder.
The old and angry-looking Calloway House stood watch at the end of the drive. To them, it looked like a dark angel has taken up residence and kept everyone out.
*****
In full investigative mode, they decided to skirt the perimeter of the place, until they came across the opening in the fence they had found during their earlier daytime investigations.
Brian lifted the fence so Kim could scoot under, and then she held it for him while he ducked under as well.
His shirt, caught by a piece of sharp wire, tore slightly.
“Oh!” said Kim. “I hope you're okay!”
She smiled at him, and he felt his heart suddenly sing.
“It's nothing,” he said while at the same time worried that his mother might be upset at yet another tear in his limited wardrobe.
They pushed their flashlights ahead of them and crept towards the old house. The dim light barely cut the dark ahead of them, and Brian swore that next time they would carry the proper gear. Maybe even night-vision goggles, he wished hopefully.
Spooky noises could be heard in the trees, but Brian thought it was probably just an owl.
Kim was
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