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    DarkMatters Celebrates 18 Years of Christmas in Ancaria!

2008 Halloween Ghost Story


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As has been done for the last few years, it is time for a joint Ghost Story. Slightly different format than in the past, but we have a week to put something together so let's see how it goes. Each person contributes one paragraph or a short bit of dialogue.

 

_____________________________________________________________

 

 

 

The house was built on a small mound a little back from a winding lane. The once-white paint was faded and peeling, leaving gaps where the warped boards showed through. The shutters hung loose and clattered when the wind blew. Panes were broken or missing from many of the windows. The chimney was at an odd angle and the roof was missing several dozen shingles. The young couple saw it as a fixer-upper. A place to raise their three-year-old son. The seller did not bother to mention its history. . . .

Link to post

The house was built on a small mound a little back from a winding lane. The once-white paint was faded and peeling, leaving gaps where the warped boards showed through. The shutters hung loose and clattered when the wind blew. Panes were broken or missing from many of the windows. The chimney was at an odd angle and the roof was missing several dozen shingles. The young couple saw it as a fixer-upper. A place to raise their three-year-old son. The seller did not bother to mention its history. . . .

 

Built 120 years ago by an aristocratic family that had come over from England, small marks of good workmanship, though weathered and now old, still showed. The door was solid oak and weather-stained, with small inset windows and a handle that looked large enough for a giant to use. Stories had it that the VonDarks were hard working but curious people. They had built and owned the morgue, and had also built the town's cemetery which many out of towners noticed was strangely large and perhaps out of proportion to this very small New England town. And there were other, more stranger stories about the Vondarks as well...

Link to post

The house was built on a small mound a little back from a winding lane. The once-white paint was faded and peeling, leaving gaps where the warped boards showed through. The shutters hung loose and clattered when the wind blew. Panes were broken or missing from many of the windows. The chimney was at an odd angle and the roof was missing several dozen shingles. The young couple saw it as a fixer-upper. A place to raise their three-year-old son. The seller did not bother to mention its history. . . .

 

Built 120 years ago by an aristocratic family that had come over from England. Small marks of good workmanship, though weathered and now old, still showed. The door was solid oak and weather-stained, with small inset windows and a handle that looked large enough for a giant to use. Stories had it that the Vondarks were hard working but curious people. They had built and owned the morgue, and had also built the town's cemetery which many out of towners noticed was strangely large and perhaps out of proportion to this very small New England town. And there were other, more stranger stories about the Vondarks as well...

 

Some said that people had seen strange shadows and heard the most outlandish noises when they came near the House when it was still occupied by the VonDarks. There was one man who was supposedly driven mad after he had gone to deliver a strange, damp, package one night, all that he had supposedly said since that point were insane mutterings about "chaos, claws tentacles, and eyes, too many eyes." Although this was never proved to have occured, people began avoiding the house, until one day, it was suddenly and mysteriously empty. Since that time, the house had lain empty and decaying, that is until the young family had moved in...

Link to post

The house was built on a small mound a little back from a winding lane. The once-white paint was faded and peeling, leaving gaps where the warped boards showed through. The shutters hung loose and clattered when the wind blew. Panes were broken or missing from many of the windows. The chimney was at an odd angle and the roof was missing several dozen shingles. The young couple saw it as a fixer-upper. A place to raise their three-year-old son. The seller did not bother to mention its history. . . .

 

Built 120 years ago by an aristocratic family that had come over from England. Small marks of good workmanship, though weathered and now old, still showed. The door was solid oak and weather-stained, with small inset windows and a handle that looked large enough for a giant to use. Stories had it that the Vondarks were hard working but curious people. They had built and owned the morgue, and had also built the town's cemetery which many out of towners noticed was strangely large and perhaps out of proportion to this very small New England town. And there were other, more stranger stories about the Vondarks as well...

 

Some said that people had seen strange shadows and heard the most outlandish noises when they came near the House when it was still occupied by the VonDarks. There was one man who was supposedly driven mad after he had gone to deliver a strange, damp, package one night, all that he had supposedly said since that point were insane mutterings about "chaos, claws tentacles, and eyes, too many eyes." Although this was never proved to have occured, people began avoiding the house, until one day, it was suddenly and mysteriously empty. Since that time, the house had lain empty and decaying, that is until the young family had moved in...

 

Starting in the Spring, the young couple worked every weekend on renovating and updating the house. Chimney straightened, roof re-shingled, windows replaced, interior and exterior re-painted. By the Fall, the place had regained its former glory. In late October, the family moved in. There were a few oddities remaining. The stairs going down to a non-existent cellar, the door in the back of the pantry that did not open, and the way the front door squeaked no matter how much the lock and hinges were oiled. But these were minor things to the young family, at least at first . . .

Link to post

The house was built on a small mound a little back from a winding lane. The once-white paint was faded and peeling, leaving gaps where the warped boards showed through. The shutters hung loose and clattered when the wind blew. Panes were broken or missing from many of the windows. The chimney was at an odd angle and the roof was missing several dozen shingles. The young couple saw it as a fixer-upper. A place to raise their three-year-old son. The seller did not bother to mention its history. . . .

 

Built 120 years ago by an aristocratic family that had come over from England. Small marks of good workmanship, though weathered and now old, still showed. The door was solid oak and weather-stained, with small inset windows and a handle that looked large enough for a giant to use. Stories had it that the Vondarks were hard working but curious people. They had built and owned the morgue, and had also built the town's cemetery which many out of towners noticed was strangely large and perhaps out of proportion to this very small New England town. And there were other, more stranger stories about the Vondarks as well...

 

Some said that people had seen strange shadows and heard the most outlandish noises when they came near the House when it was still occupied by the VonDarks. There was one man who was supposedly driven mad after he had gone to deliver a strange, damp, package one night, all that he had supposedly said since that point were insane mutterings about "chaos, claws tentacles, and eyes, too many eyes." Although this was never proved to have occured, people began avoiding the house, until one day, it was suddenly and mysteriously empty. Since that time, the house had lain empty and decaying, that is until the young family had moved in...

 

Starting in the Spring, the young couple worked every weekend on renovating and updating the house. Chimney straightened, roof re-shingled, windows replaced, interior and exterior re-painted. By the Fall, the place had regained its former glory. In late October, the family moved in. There were a few oddities remaining. The stairs going down to a non-existent cellar, the door in the back of the pantry that did not open, and the way the front door squeaked no matter how much the lock and hinges were oiled. But these were minor things to the young family, at least at first . . .

 

However several weeks after they had moved in strange things began to happen, indescrible, yet disturbing noises could be heard from behind where the cellar door should have been, yet this was only the beginning... Over the next week the incidents became more chilling by the day, food in the pantry was found rotted, with huge, bizarre not quite maggots crawling in and out of the gap beneath the locked door, and a strange, alien smell pervaded the pantry and kitchen. On the sunday of that week, the most disturbing and impossible event yet occured, the couple's sons room began to stink of rotting flesh, but that was not all, the walls became covered in dark stains that seemed to form some characters of some odd and alien language that were chaotic and random seeming and yet somehow hinted at an incomprehensible and throughly alien geometry. These eldritch symbols were sickening and disturbing to behold and the family's cat seemed to be in mortal terror of them. However, these horrific events only hinted at what lay in store for the young family....

 

(I also have a link to a cool little halloween point and click with a similiar story to our one, here)

Edited by TimOfDoom
Link to post

The house was built on a small mound a little back from a winding lane. The once-white paint was faded and peeling, leaving gaps where the warped boards showed through. The shutters hung loose and clattered when the wind blew. Panes were broken or missing from many of the windows. The chimney was at an odd angle and the roof was missing several dozen shingles. The young couple saw it as a fixer-upper. A place to raise their three-year-old son. The seller did not bother to mention its history. . . .

 

Built 120 years ago by an aristocratic family that had come over from England. Small marks of good workmanship, though weathered and now old, still showed. The door was solid oak and weather-stained, with small inset windows and a handle that looked large enough for a giant to use. Stories had it that the Vondarks were hard working but curious people. They had built and owned the morgue, and had also built the town's cemetery which many out of towners noticed was strangely large and perhaps out of proportion to this very small New England town. And there were other, more stranger stories about the Vondarks as well...

 

Some said that people had seen strange shadows and heard the most outlandish noises when they came near the House when it was still occupied by the VonDarks. There was one man who was supposedly driven mad after he had gone to deliver a strange, damp, package one night, all that he had supposedly said since that point were insane mutterings about "chaos, claws tentacles, and eyes, too many eyes." Although this was never proved to have occured, people began avoiding the house, until one day, it was suddenly and mysteriously empty. Since that time, the house had lain empty and decaying, that is until the young family had moved in...

 

Starting in the Spring, the young couple worked every weekend on renovating and updating the house. Chimney straightened, roof re-shingled, windows replaced, interior and exterior re-painted. By the Fall, the place had regained its former glory. In late October, the family moved in. There were a few oddities remaining. The stairs going down to a non-existent cellar, the door in the back of the pantry that did not open, and the way the front door squeaked no matter how much the lock and hinges were oiled. But these were minor things to the young family, at least at first . . .

 

However several weeks after they had moved in strange things began to happen, indescrible, yet disturbing noises could be heard from behind where the cellar door should have been, yet this was only the beginning... Over the next week the incidents became more chilling by the day, food in the pantry was found rotted, with huge, bizarre not quite maggots crawling in and out of the gap beneath the locked door, and a strange, alien smell pervaded the pantry and kitchen. On the sunday of that week, the most disturbing and impossible event yet occured, the couple's sons room began to stink of rotting flesh, but that was not all, the walls became covered in dark stains that seemed to form some characters of some odd and alien language that were chaotic and random seeming and yet somehow hinted at an incomprehensible and throughly alien geometry. These eldritch symbols were sickening and disturbing to behold and the family's cat seemed to be in mortal terror of them. However, these horrific events only hinted at what lay in store for the young family....

 

Carrie could take it no longer. This night the appearance and stench of the foul house was particularly unbearable. She exclaimed to Micheal that she needed to step outside for a moment. Michael grunted in acknowledgement, his attention fixed on the t.v. Throwing on a sweater and scarf she grabbed the door handle and tried to turn it. The handle was wrought with rust it seemed and refused to give. Out of frustration Carrie jammed hard on the handle. Hearing a *click* she huffed, threw open the door and then... Shrieked. With great shock she stumbled backwards onto the floor. Micheal immediately jumped up off the couch and while moving quickly to her asked what the matter was. Her eyes moved towards the open door. Onto the figure that stood before her. A dark cloaked figure waited patiently. Michael looked up at the dark figure in surprise while helping Carrie to her feet and said "Uh, hello?". The figure took a step closer and spoke. "May I come in... To use your phone. My name is... Mather Von Dark." The baby began to cry...

 

 

P.s.

(I love this thread!)

Link to post

The house was built on a small mound a little back from a winding lane. The once-white paint was faded and peeling, leaving gaps where the warped boards showed through. The shutters hung loose and clattered when the wind blew. Panes were broken or missing from many of the windows. The chimney was at an odd angle and the roof was missing several dozen shingles. The young couple saw it as a fixer-upper. A place to raise their three-year-old son. The seller did not bother to mention its history. . . .

 

Built 120 years ago by an aristocratic family that had come over from England. Small marks of good workmanship, though weathered and now old, still showed. The door was solid oak and weather-stained, with small inset windows and a handle that looked large enough for a giant to use. Stories had it that the Vondarks were hard working but curious people. They had built and owned the morgue, and had also built the town's cemetery which many out of towners noticed was strangely large and perhaps out of proportion to this very small New England town. And there were other, more stranger stories about the Vondarks as well...

 

Some said that people had seen strange shadows and heard the most outlandish noises when they came near the House when it was still occupied by the VonDarks. There was one man who was supposedly driven mad after he had gone to deliver a strange, damp, package one night, all that he had supposedly said since that point were insane mutterings about "chaos, claws tentacles, and eyes, too many eyes." Although this was never proved to have occured, people began avoiding the house, until one day, it was suddenly and mysteriously empty. Since that time, the house had lain empty and decaying, that is until the young family had moved in...

 

Starting in the Spring, the young couple worked every weekend on renovating and updating the house. Chimney straightened, roof re-shingled, windows replaced, interior and exterior re-painted. By the Fall, the place had regained its former glory. In late October, the family moved in. There were a few oddities remaining. The stairs going down to a non-existent cellar, the door in the back of the pantry that did not open, and the way the front door squeaked no matter how much the lock and hinges were oiled. But these were minor things to the young family, at least at first . . .

 

However several weeks after they had moved in strange things began to happen, indescrible, yet disturbing noises could be heard from behind where the cellar door should have been, yet this was only the beginning... Over the next week the incidents became more chilling by the day, food in the pantry was found rotted, with huge, bizarre not quite maggots crawling in and out of the gap beneath the locked door, and a strange, alien smell pervaded the pantry and kitchen. On the sunday of that week, the most disturbing and impossible event yet occured, the couple's sons room began to stink of rotting flesh, but that was not all, the walls became covered in dark stains that seemed to form some characters of some odd and alien language that were chaotic and random seeming and yet somehow hinted at an incomprehensible and throughly alien geometry. These eldritch symbols were sickening and disturbing to behold and the family's cat seemed to be in mortal terror of them. However, these horrific events only hinted at what lay in store for the young family....

 

Carrie could take it no longer. This night the appearance and stench of the fowl house was particularly unbearable. She exclaimed to Micheal that she needed to step outside for a moment. Micheal grunted in acknowledgement, his attention fixed on the t.v. Throwing on a sweater and scarf she grabbed the door handle and tried to turn it. The handle was wrought with rust it seemed and refused to give. Out of frustration Carrie jammed hard on the handle. Hearing a *click* she huffed, threw open the door and then... Shrieked. With great shock she stumbled backwards onto the floor. Micheal immediately jumped up off the couch and while moving quickly to her asked what the matter was. Her eyes moved towards the open door. Onto the figure that stood before her. A dark cloaked figure waited patiently. Micheal looked up at the dark figure in surprise while helping Carrie to her feet and said "Uh, hello?". The figure took a step closer and spoke. "May I come in... To use your phone. My name is... Mather Von Dark." The baby began to cry...

 

The man was huge, fully eight foot tall, with a strange, unplacable accent, yet there was something subtly wrong about him, he somehow seemed to be the wrong shape, but there didn't seem to be any reason for this, he was very thin, but this was no reason for the subtle perversion that his form seemed to possess. However, something was most certainly wrong about his eyes, instead of white, his eyes were a very pale sickly green with huge black pupils. He stooped as he entered the porch, and stood awaiting a reply, after some tense minutes he again asked for access to the telephone, this time the terrified Carrie managed to squeak a response, and went to fetch the phone. She returned, and Mather tore the phone from her grasp, and quickly dialled a very long and complex number. The phone connected instantly, which was strange in itself, but then, those same noises that had been emanating from the cellar, began to be heard on the phone, but louder than ever before... Marther dropped the phone, which began to melt, although the horrific, alien noises did not cease as it melted, and with and unearthly scream he shouted , "YOU HAVE MY CREATURES HERE!" Before leaving the house, leaving only a dank fluid, and a smell of rotting flesh...

Edited by TimOfDoom
Link to post

The house was built on a small mound a little back from a winding lane. The once-white paint was faded and peeling, leaving gaps where the warped boards showed through. The shutters hung loose and clattered when the wind blew. Panes were broken or missing from many of the windows. The chimney was at an odd angle and the roof was missing several dozen shingles. The young couple saw it as a fixer-upper. A place to raise their three-year-old son. The seller did not bother to mention its history. . . .

 

Built 120 years ago by an aristocratic family that had come over from England. Small marks of good workmanship, though weathered and now old, still showed. The door was solid oak and weather-stained, with small inset windows and a handle that looked large enough for a giant to use. Stories had it that the Vondarks were hard working but curious people. They had built and owned the morgue, and had also built the town's cemetery which many out of towners noticed was strangely large and perhaps out of proportion to this very small New England town. And there were other, more stranger stories about the Vondarks as well...

 

Some said that people had seen strange shadows and heard the most outlandish noises when they came near the House when it was still occupied by the VonDarks. There was one man who was supposedly driven mad after he had gone to deliver a strange, damp, package one night, all that he had supposedly said since that point were insane mutterings about "chaos, claws tentacles, and eyes, too many eyes." Although this was never proved to have occured, people began avoiding the house, until one day, it was suddenly and mysteriously empty. Since that time, the house had lain empty and decaying, that is until the young family had moved in...

 

Starting in the Spring, the young couple worked every weekend on renovating and updating the house. Chimney straightened, roof re-shingled, windows replaced, interior and exterior re-painted. By the Fall, the place had regained its former glory. In late October, the family moved in. There were a few oddities remaining. The stairs going down to a non-existent cellar, the door in the back of the pantry that did not open, and the way the front door squeaked no matter how much the lock and hinges were oiled. But these were minor things to the young family, at least at first . . .

 

However several weeks after they had moved in strange things began to happen, indescrible, yet disturbing noises could be heard from behind where the cellar door should have been, yet this was only the beginning... Over the next week the incidents became more chilling by the day, food in the pantry was found rotted, with huge, bizarre not quite maggots crawling in and out of the gap beneath the locked door, and a strange, alien smell pervaded the pantry and kitchen. On the sunday of that week, the most disturbing and impossible event yet occured, the couple's sons room began to stink of rotting flesh, but that was not all, the walls became covered in dark stains that seemed to form some characters of some odd and alien language that were chaotic and random seeming and yet somehow hinted at an incomprehensible and throughly alien geometry. These eldritch symbols were sickening and disturbing to behold and the family's cat seemed to be in mortal terror of them. However, these horrific events only hinted at what lay in store for the young family....

 

Carrie could take it no longer. This night the appearance and stench of the fowl house was particularly unbearable. She exclaimed to Micheal that she needed to step outside for a moment. Micheal grunted in acknowledgement, his attention fixed on the t.v. Throwing on a sweater and scarf she grabbed the door handle and tried to turn it. The handle was wrought with rust it seemed and refused to give. Out of frustration Carrie jammed hard on the handle. Hearing a *click* she huffed, threw open the door and then... Shrieked. With great shock she stumbled backwards onto the floor. Micheal immediately jumped up off the couch and while moving quickly to her asked what the matter was. Her eyes moved towards the open door. Onto the figure that stood before her. A dark cloaked figure waited patiently. Micheal looked up at the dark figure in surprise while helping Carrie to her feet and said "Uh, hello?". The figure took a step closer and spoke. "May I come in... To use your phone. My name is... Mather Von Dark." The baby began to cry...

 

The man was huge, fully eight foot tall, with a strange, unplacable accent, yet there was something subtly wrong about him, he somehow seemed to be the wrong shape, but there didn't seem to be any reason for this, he was very thin, but this was no reason for the subtle perversion that his form seemed to possess. However, something was most certainly wrong about his eyes, instead of white, his eyes were a very pale sickly green with huge black pupils. He stooped as he entered the porch, and stood awaiting a reply, after some tense minutes he again asked for access to the telephone, this time the terrified Carrie managed to squeak a response, and went to fetch the phone. She returned, and Mather tore the phone from her grasp, and quickly dialled a very long and complex number. The phone connected instantly, which was strange in itself, but then, those same noises that had been emanating from the cellar, began to be heard on the phone, but louder than ever before... Marther dropped the phone, which began to melt, although the horrific, alien noises did not cease as it melted, and with and unearthly scream he shouted , "YOU HAVE MY CREATURES HERE!" Before leaving the house, leaving only a dank fluid, and a smell of rotting flesh...

 

They watched as he moved down the walk toward a strange vehicle at the end of the front walk. His coat flowed in the breeze and the edges seemed to blend and melt with the un-natural darkness that surrounded the old house. "Carrie, look at his coat..." Micheal gasped " it's not moving in the same way as the trees."

They watched this strange giant reach into the back of the car and as he he turned his head to look back at the house on the hill they could see his eyes in the darkness as if they shed a light from deep within .........

Link to post

The house was built on a small mound a little back from a winding lane. The once-white paint was faded and peeling, leaving gaps where the warped boards showed through. The shutters hung loose and clattered when the wind blew. Panes were broken or missing from many of the windows. The chimney was at an odd angle and the roof was missing several dozen shingles. The young couple saw it as a fixer-upper. A place to raise their three-year-old son. The seller did not bother to mention its history. . . .

 

Built 120 years ago by an aristocratic family that had come over from England. Small marks of good workmanship, though weathered and now old, still showed. The door was solid oak and weather-stained, with small inset windows and a handle that looked large enough for a giant to use. Stories had it that the Vondarks were hard working but curious people. They had built and owned the morgue, and had also built the town's cemetery which many out of towners noticed was strangely large and perhaps out of proportion to this very small New England town. And there were other, more stranger stories about the Vondarks as well...

 

Some said that people had seen strange shadows and heard the most outlandish noises when they came near the House when it was still occupied by the VonDarks. There was one man who was supposedly driven mad after he had gone to deliver a strange, damp, package one night, all that he had supposedly said since that point were insane mutterings about "chaos, claws tentacles, and eyes, too many eyes." Although this was never proved to have occured, people began avoiding the house, until one day, it was suddenly and mysteriously empty. Since that time, the house had lain empty and decaying, that is until the young family had moved in...

 

Starting in the Spring, the young couple worked every weekend on renovating and updating the house. Chimney straightened, roof re-shingled, windows replaced, interior and exterior re-painted. By the Fall, the place had regained its former glory. In late October, the family moved in. There were a few oddities remaining. The stairs going down to a non-existent cellar, the door in the back of the pantry that did not open, and the way the front door squeaked no matter how much the lock and hinges were oiled. But these were minor things to the young family, at least at first . . .

 

However several weeks after they had moved in strange things began to happen, indescrible, yet disturbing noises could be heard from behind where the cellar door should have been, yet this was only the beginning... Over the next week the incidents became more chilling by the day, food in the pantry was found rotted, with huge, bizarre not quite maggots crawling in and out of the gap beneath the locked door, and a strange, alien smell pervaded the pantry and kitchen. On the sunday of that week, the most disturbing and impossible event yet occured, the couple's sons room began to stink of rotting flesh, but that was not all, the walls became covered in dark stains that seemed to form some characters of some odd and alien language that were chaotic and random seeming and yet somehow hinted at an incomprehensible and throughly alien geometry. These eldritch symbols were sickening and disturbing to behold and the family's cat seemed to be in mortal terror of them. However, these horrific events only hinted at what lay in store for the young family....

 

Carrie could take it no longer. This night the appearance and stench of the fowl house was particularly unbearable. She exclaimed to Micheal that she needed to step outside for a moment. Micheal grunted in acknowledgement, his attention fixed on the t.v. Throwing on a sweater and scarf she grabbed the door handle and tried to turn it. The handle was wrought with rust it seemed and refused to give. Out of frustration Carrie jammed hard on the handle. Hearing a *click* she huffed, threw open the door and then... Shrieked. With great shock she stumbled backwards onto the floor. Micheal immediately jumped up off the couch and while moving quickly to her asked what the matter was. Her eyes moved towards the open door. Onto the figure that stood before her. A dark cloaked figure waited patiently. Micheal looked up at the dark figure in surprise while helping Carrie to her feet and said "Uh, hello?". The figure took a step closer and spoke. "May I come in... To use your phone. My name is... Mather Von Dark." The baby began to cry...

 

The man was huge, fully eight foot tall, with a strange, unplacable accent, yet there was something subtly wrong about him, he somehow seemed to be the wrong shape, but there didn't seem to be any reason for this, he was very thin, but this was no reason for the subtle perversion that his form seemed to possess. However, something was most certainly wrong about his eyes, instead of white, his eyes were a very pale sickly green with huge black pupils. He stooped as he entered the porch, and stood awaiting a reply, after some tense minutes he again asked for access to the telephone, this time the terrified Carrie managed to squeak a response, and went to fetch the phone. She returned, and Mather tore the phone from her grasp, and quickly dialled a very long and complex number. The phone connected instantly, which was strange in itself, but then, those same noises that had been emanating from the cellar, began to be heard on the phone, but louder than ever before... Marther dropped the phone, which began to melt, although the horrific, alien noises did not cease as it melted, and with and unearthly scream he shouted , "YOU HAVE MY CREATURES HERE!" Before leaving the house, leaving only a dank fluid, and a smell of rotting flesh...

 

They watched as he moved down the walk toward a strange vehicle at the end of the front walk. His coat flowed in the breeze and the edges seemed to blend and melt with the un-natural darkness that surrounded the old house. "Carrie, look at his coat..." Micheal gasped " it's not moving in the same way as the trees."

They watched this strange giant reach into the back of the car and as he he turned his head to look back at the house on the hill they could see his eyes in the darkness as if they shed a light from deep within .........

 

Michael and Carrie stood for several long minutes after the apparition disappeared down the winding lane in its odd vehicle. They did not notice that the sounds and smells had disappeared, leaving their house much as it had been when they moved in. With a gasp, Carrie turned and screamed "William!" The young woman ran past her husband to stare at the space on the floor on which her son had been playing just moments earlier. All that was left to show that he had been there were his blocks. As Michael came over and held his shaking wife, they read the letters displayed on the blocks. "H" "O" "M" "E" "C" "O" "M" "I" "N" "G." . . .

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