The sun was just far enough in the west to give the shadows a threatening look by the time the three had assembled at the end of Elm Avenue. Scootaloo was the last to arrive, even though she had come on her scooter.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, pulling her helmet off, “Couldn’t get away as fast as I thought.”

Apple Bloom thought Scootaloo was intentionally avoiding Sweetie Belle’s gaze but made no comment.

“So,” she said, “We’re all here now. I guess we should get going.”

The old house was visible even from a distance. There were only a few houses on this street, with a lot of space between each of them, but the one they wanted was the largest and oldest by far. It wasn’t until they stood in its shadow looking up, though, gazing up at the mass of wood with a mix of awe and apprehension, that they really understood just how grand it was. Granted, the siding was falling off in places, and a few windows were broken, and the roof looked like it needed an overhaul, and the lawn was uncut, but there was a sense of majesty about the house that even time itself couldn’t diminish. It knew how great it once was and it didn’t care what they or anypony else thought about it now.

Apple Bloom remembered that the Elm family, for whom the street was named after, had been one of the first families to move into Ponyville, way back when it was a measly collection of shops and shacks. They were groundskeepers at Canterlot Castle for generations, and a small branch—not as rich as Diamond Tiara’s family, sure, but rich enough to convince other rich ponies to move into Ponyville—were told by Celestia herself to tend the wilderness around Ponyville, to keep it under control. Under their care, the land had thrived. The Apple family’s many orchards were at least somewhat owed to the Elm family’s aid. The Everfree Forest even had begun to shrink for the first time in nearly a thousand years.

And then the family… they what, exactly?

“Uh, girls?” Apple Bloom said, “Do either of ya know what happened to the Elm family?”

“Um… no.”

“The what?”

Apple Bloom explained, “Because Granny Smith told me about how they came to Ponyville, but she never really finished the story. I don’t know what happened to them.”

“Does it matter?” Scootaloo asked, still watching the house like it was going to jump forward and eat her.

Apple Bloom thought about it for a moment, then shook her head.

“I guess not,” she murmured, taking a tentative step onto the path leading to the front door.

Immediately a chill descended upon her. She gritted he teeth, telling herself it’s just yer imagination, Apple Bloom, and pushed on. The others followed behind her, their breathing shallow.

Without hesitation, Apple Bloom ascended the front porch, wincing as the rough wood bit into the soft underside of her hoof. She ignored the pain, though Sweetie Belle behind her let out a soft “ow” and turned her attention to the front door before her.

It’s just superstition, she told herself, echoing Scootaloo’s words from earlier, [There ain’t even no such thing as ghosts.

Her stomach turned in disagreement.

“Maybe the door’s locked,” Sweetie Belle murmured hopefully from behind her.

“Check the handle,” Apple Bloom whispered back.

“You do it; you’re closer.”

“But I don’t have magic.”

“…oh, right.”

A thin aura surrounded the ancient door handle. When Apple Bloom glanced over, a look of strained determination was plastered across Sweetie Belle’s face.

“It’s hopeless,” she said, giving up.

Scootaloo just rolled her eyes and pushed Apple Bloom to the side so she could grab the handle in her hoof. As soon as she touched the tarnished metal, though, she paused and all the color drained from her face.

“Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom breathed, “Are you okay?” When she didn’t reply, Apple Bloom poked her once, gently. “Scootaloo, you’re scaring me.”

Then Scootaloo shook her head and her color returned.

“Nah, I’m fine,” she insisted quietly, pressing down on the handle, “Just thought I… just thought there was something…”

The door swung inward, revealing the dark interior of the house. For a moment, they just stood there gazing into the darkness.

“You go in first, Apple Bloom.”

“Me? You were the one who opened the door,” Apple Bloom hissed back.

“What? Are you scared?” Scootaloo asked.

“I’m not scared!” Apple Bloom told her, “What about you?”

“Well I’m not scared either,” Scootaloo replied.

A moment of silence passed between them before Sweetie Belle asked, “Then why are we all whispering?”

None of them had an answer.

Slwoly, Apple Bloom took the first step into the mansion. Her hooftsep did not echo across the house like she expected, but instead sounded strangely muted against the hardwood floor. A few more steps and she was inside, kicking up little clouds of dust in her wake.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but the evening light filtering in through the windows was just enough to see by for the moment. The entrance hallway was dusty. There were a few pictures hanging from the wall at odd angles, though they were too dirty to make out, and a large chandelier hung from the ceiling. There were a few doors along the hallway, as well as a staircase leading to the second floor.

It was dark, but it was a normal house on the inside.

“Come on in girls,” she said, relief evident in her voice, “It’s all good in here.”

A sudden bright light startled Apple Bloom, but it was just the flashlight Sweetie Bell was holding in her mouth.

“It’s dark in here,” came her muffled voice.

“You bring any more of those?” Scootaloo asked, joining the two of them inside. Her wings were ruffled, like whenever she was about to run away from whatever sleeping animal they’d tried prodding that day.

Sweetie Belle shook her head, momentarily blinding the two of them with her light.

“Here, let me hold the flashlight,” Apple Bloom insisted.

Sweetie Belle just shrugged and passed it over.

“Alright,” Scootaloo said, rubbing her eyes, “Let’s get this over with.

The tried the nearest door on their left. Apple Bloom led, pushing the door open and scanning it with the flashlight.

“It’s a den,” Scootaloo observe.

“You mean a living room?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Family room,” Apple Bloom tried to mumble in reply. The flashlight quivered as she spoke.

Sweetie Belle wandered over to the couches and poked at them, as if checking for bugs hidden in the cushioning. Scootaloo moved closer to the fireplace, and shivered.

“Girls, come over here,” she said, “It’s real cold.”

They did as she asked, Apple Bloom setting the flashlight down on the coffee table to rest her jaw. Sweetie Belle moved right in front of the fireplace.

“It is cold,” she agreed.

“Must be coming from the fireplace,” Apple Bloom suggested.

Sweetie Belle made to poke her head into the fireplace to check it out, and Apple Bloom’s gaze wandered upward. An old portrait of two ponies, probably married, in fine evening-wear hung over the mantle. They looked downward at Apple Bloom, as if judging her for intruding on their home.

Apple Bloom gulped, telling herself again that she was just fooling herself.

Then Scootaloo cried out, “Hey guys, check this out!”

She’d move the flashlight so it was pointed at a record player in the corner where she stood. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle eagerly rushed over, and Scootaloo frowned.

“I don’t see any records, though,” she lamented.

The other two gave a disappointed “aww” and slumped over. A little bit of music would have helped to lighten the mood.

Apple Bloom saw something flicker in the corner of her eye. She dismissed it as candlelight until she remembered that they weren’t using a candle. When she looked, though, there was nothing but the still darkness.

Come on Apple Bloom, yer not a little filly anymore, she thought, Yer just imagining things.

Scootaloo tapped a hoof against the record player.

“It’s probably broken anyway,” she said, turning away.

Apple Bloom kept her eyes peeled for movement as they progressed down the hall to the next room further down the hall. She could hear Sweetie Belle humming softly to herself behind her. It was awfully soothing.

“This house is really pretty,” Sweetie Belle admitted as they entered the next room.

“Yeah, sure,” Scootaloo agreed dismissively, “What’s this room?”

There was a lot of fancy furniture sitting in this room, and though it was all covered with dust it was clearly still worth a lot. Apple Bloom couldn’t be sure why anypony would leave it here instead of taking it with them when they left.

Sweetie Belle looked around at the chairs and table, and at the couple of couches sitting about. It was a little hard to do with the flashlight pointing every which way, but she was still able to make out enough of the rugs on the hardwood and the scattered cabinets and wall arts.

There was a second door in the mystery room, but despite Scootaloo’s jiggling of the handle it remained locked against her.

Apple Bloom sat the flashlight down again and rubbed her sore jaw. There had to be an easier way to do this.

“I got it!” Sweetie Belle squeaked.

“Got what?”

“It’s a drawing room!”

Her discovery was met with confused silence.

“I heard my sister talking about one of the rooms in her store that was just for ‘entertaining guests.’ It had a lot of fancy furniture and she didn’t use it for anything except when visitors showed up. She called it a drawing room.”

“Why?” Scootaloo asked.

“I dunno,” Sweetie Belle said, shrugging, “I guess grown-ups like having arts and crafts time too.”

“I don’t think that’s right, Sweetie Belle,” Apple Bloom said, “Most adults I know don’t like drawing.”

“That’s because your family spends too much time doing chores,” she retorted playfully.

Scootaloo was shifting back and forth uneasily.

“Can we go now?” she whined.

“Yeah, sure,” Apple Bloom said, “There’s nothing here...”

But when she picked up the flashlight again, she paused. Then she pointed at a spot on the floor, where the light was shining. There were scratch marks on the ground next to one of the decorative cabinets.

“Someone’s moved it,” she said through the flashlight, “Push it back.”

“You think there’s something behind it?” Scootaloo asked.

Apple Bloom set the flashlight down again and replied, “Can’t imagine why anypony would move it otherwise.”

The three of them together pushed at the cabinet. It made a loud scratching noise as it moved, but it moved with surprising ease under their weight.

“Whoa, check this out!”

There was a huge dent in the wall, easily the size of one of their heads. Something had clearly been bashed against the wall there, and the furniture had been moved to cover it up.

“What do you think did this?” Sweetie Belle said, running a hoof over the cracked plaster.

“Not sure,” Scootaloo replied, “Maybe a ball? A big, hard ball.”

“What knuckleheads would try to play ball inside somepony’s house?” Apple Bloom asked.

“…us,” Sweetie Belle reminded her, inciting laughter from all three of them.

As their chuckling died down, however, the three turned to face the other end of the room.

“Did you hear that?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Yeah.” Apple Bloom picked up the flashlight and moved to the other side of the room, where the locked door stood. Her friends followed closely.

A loud scratching noise caused them to jump and halt where they were. Apple Bloom almost dropped the flashlight, but managed to hold it by the skin of her teeth.

The scratching sound continued. Apple Bloom glanced over at Scootaloo, who was shaking slightly. When she saw Apple Bloom looking at her, she tightened her expression into one of determination and moved forward.

“It’s come through the door,” she confirmed, leaning in as close as she dared.

“Probably mice,” Apple Bloom suggested, “We get them in the barn sometimes. And in the house.”

Sweetie Belle nodded in agreement, but didn’t look all that convinced. Scootaloo was all too eager to get away from the locked door to respond. Apple Bloom didn’t blame her.

Immediately across the hall from the drawing room was the door that led to the kitchen. It seemed like a fairly standard kitchen, if a bit old. They found a few ovens and stoves. There were still dirty dishes in the sink.

“It’s cold in here too,” Scootaloo said, pulling at the handle of the door to the backyard. It was bolted shut.

“But it’s only at certain spots,” Sweetie Belle pointed out.

“It's an old house,” Apple Bloom reminded them, “Probably has a bunch of holes. I'm sure it could use some touching up.”

“It's not gonna fall down on us, is it?!” Sweetie Belle cried.

“No, no,” Apple Bloom quickly assured her, “I'm... I'm sure it won't.”

She ignored the shiver running down her spine.

“If it's all the same,” Scootaloo suggested, “let's not try to be Cutie Mark Crusaders Home Renovators, okay?”

“Okay,” the other two agreed in unison.

The kitchen had a door directly into the dining room. There was a long table with many chairs, and a large display case for the fine china. Apple Bloom’s heart sank. Furniture, maybe, but nopony leaves a house without taking their fine china.

A large window with a broken pane of glass looked out over the front lawn. Apple Bloom set the flashlight down and pulled back the curtain to glance down at the street below. The sun hadn’t set yet, but it was getting too dark to see much.

Apple Bloom turned back at the sound of Scootaloo’s voice.

“I wonder what they ate in here,” she said.

“Probably the same stuff my sister eats,” Sweetie Belle said. Putting on her best Rarity impression, she continued, “Scootaloo dear, do try the caviar, it’s simply divine. Wash it down with this tea I imported from the Dragon Empire.”

As they chuckled at her impersonation, though, another sound caught there ear.

It was the sound of hoofsteps.

For a moment, none of them so much as breathed. But the sound didn’t return.

“S'also got an echo,” Apple Bloom decided with a nervous giggle. Scootaloo nodded, quivering, while Sweetie Belle just glanced around.

The doorway from the dining room brought them back to the front door, where they started. The only other doorway on the first floor opened to a small water-closet. It was nothing more than a dusty sink and toilet bowel.

Apple Bloom led the way upstairs. Each step seemed to groan louder than the last, and each one seemed to bend even more under her weight. Apple Bloom forced herself to breathe slowly and keep moving, insisting to herself that she was fine.

The first room they tried upstairs turned out to be a full bathroom.

“Anypony need to use the toilet?” Scootaloo halfheartedly joked.

The very next room was a bedroom. The bed was made and all the beside tables were empty, as was the wardrobe.

“Spare bedroom,” Sweetie Belle decided.

As they left, closing the door on their way out, Scootaloo asked, “Are we actually going to lie down and sleep anytime soon?”

“Of course we are,” Apple Bloom told her, “We just want to scope the entire house first.”

Sweetie Belle managed to open the next door with her magic. She had to wipe the sweat from her brow afterward, but it was an improvement.

“I know this one,” Scootaloo chimed in, “This is the master bedroom.”

“Right,” Sweetie Belle told her, still rubbing her forehead.

“There’s a balcony too,” Apple Bloom eagerly pointed out. She could still see a bit of setting sun through the glass doors.

When she tried the balcony door, she found it unlocked and slid it open. Taking a deep breath, she put one hoof out on the old wooden balcony and put her weight on it.

“Come on out, you guys,” she said, stepping out fully onto the deck.

It was starting to get cold, but the evening breeze still felt pretty good.

Very slowly, her friends managed to summon up the courage to join her.

“It’s beautiful,” Sweetie Belle said, watching the orange skies fade to purple.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Scootaloo said, but she continued to watch as well.

After a few minutes, the sun was wholly beyond the horizon and the skies had turned a dark blue. The starts were winking into place in the sky.

Another chilly breeze blew across them, causing Apple Bloom to shiver.

“Come on,” she said, “Let's keep going.”

Apple Bloom had almost forgotten how depressing the inside of the house was. The bed was a little messy, as if somepony had forgotten to make it when they woke up. A lamp had fallen over onto the ground. But what caught all their attentions was the vanity.

Apple Bloom brought the flashlight closer and then shrunk away. The vanity mirror was cracked. Something had hit the middle of the mirror and broke it.

There was a red stain on in the center of the fracture.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sweetie Belle said, “I don’t like this room. It makes me feel… weird.”

Apple Bloom made doubly sure that the bedroom door was all the way closed before they moved on.

“This door is locked,” Scootaloo said, already jiggling the next doorknob.

“That leaves just one more,” Sweetie Belle said, reaching up and grabbing the handle in her hoof. The door swung open easily at her touch.

Apple Bloom led them into the dark room. The floor was carpeted, and a bed took up a large portion of the room. There was a candle on the nightstand, Apple Bloom noticed. Everything was covered in dust, naturally, but it wasn’t too thick to be more than simply annoying.

She couldn’t see much with just the flashlight, but Apple Bloom thought this looked like a child’s room. The blanket on the bed was blue with lightning bolts on it. The paint on the walls was fading, but it was sky blue with white clouds painted across it.

Scootaloo exclaimed with delight, “This was a pegasus’ room.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle agreed, “I like it here. It feels safe.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this house,” Apple Bloom reminded her. Still, she set her own bags down on the bed, sneezing at the dust it kicked up, and opened them up to pull out her things.

“What did ya girls bring?” she asked, pulling out the three candlesticks she’d brought.

“I brought a pillow and a blanket and a sandwich,” Scootaloo said.

“Did you bring your Rainbow Dash doll?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Scootaloo only blushed and nodded.

Apple Bloom began setting the candles up strategically across the room so they’d have light, and added, “I brought a few caramel apples for us to eat. Also a few oats for dinner. What did ya bring, Sweetie Belle?”

“My snuggie,” she said, “And some cold pizza. And a water bottle.”

“You brought cold pizza?” Scootaloo asked.

“You brought a sandwich.”

“Girls, don’t be fighting,” Apple Bloom said, grabbing a match to light the first candle.

“They started it!” they cried in unison.

“I don’t care,” Apple Bloom said, moving over to the next candle in line, “I shouldn’t be treating ya two like children.”

“Yes ma’am,” they chanted, bowing their heads in shame before the three burst into laughter.

“Alright,” Scootaloo said, grabbing her sandwich and unwrapping it, “The sooner we eat the sooner we can get to our caramel apples.”

C • M • C

“Apple Bloom?”

Apple Bloom turned to face her friends. Sweetie Belle still had a bit of caramel around her mouth. She was hunched over, halfway through scribbling something onto her homework in the dim candlelight, but she was looking up at Apple Bloom.

“Sorry,” Apple Bloom said, “I thought…”

She glanced back behind her once again, but there was nopony there. Just the shadows dancing in the candlelight.

Scootaloo, as she finished shoving the last bit of her homework into her own bag, continued, “We’re gonna get to school tomorrow and make those two look like complete fools for sending us out here.”

“Why are they always so mean to us?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“They’re just jealous of how awesome we are.”

“It’s because their parents don’t know how to discipline them,” Apple Bloom said.

“That’s kinda mean to say,” Sweetie Belle said.

Apple Bloom sighed.

“I’m sorry, Sweetie Belle,” she said, “I’m just kinda sick of them is all.”

“Sweetie Belle—flashlight.”

“Hmm? Alright.”

She passed the flashlight to Scootaloo, who flicked it on and scanned around the room. Seeing nothing there, she dropped the flashlight to the ground between them, leaving it on.

When she didn’t say anything, Apple Bloom asked, “Uh, Scootaloo, why did you ask for the flashlight?”

It took her a moment to answer.

“Do either of you feel… like… like somepony’s watching us?”

“Well, to be honest—goshdarnit! There’s not even a draft in here.”

Apple Bloom grabbed the box of matches. It hadn’t been full when she started, but she was going to have some explaining to do when Applejack went to grab a match and discovered that there were only four left.

Well, three now, as Apple Bloom had to relight yet another candle.

“Listening to your sister’s outbursts again?” Scootaloo asked wryly.

“Y’all better not tell her I’ve been using dirty language,” she replied through the match clamped between her teeth.

“That’s not dirty language,” Sweetie Belle said, “I hear my parents talking sometimes. They use words like…”—she shivered—“Sorry. I got the chills for a moment there. Are you sure there’s no draft?”

“I can’t feel anything,” Apple Bloom said, sitting back down.

“Hey, maybe your special talent is finding the direction of the wind.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Scootaloo said, “She’s an earth pony. What would that even look like as a cutie mark?”

“A weather vane?” Apple Bloom suggested. At their confused expressions, she explained, “It’s that thing at the top of my house that spins in the wind.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Sweetie Belle said, “Or maybe she’s just really good at finding things, like how she found that cabinet had been moved. Her cutie mark could be a magnifying glass.”

“That makes more sense for an earth pony to have.”

Apple Bloom had to bite back her next comment. Her sister always said that if she had nothing nice to say she shouldn’t say anything at all.

“What did you say?” Sweetie Belle asked, pulling her attention away from her saddlebags.

“I said that makes more sense for an earth pony to have.”

“No, after that.”

“I didn’t say anything after that.”

“I heard one of you say something else.”

Apple Bloom told her, “We didn’t say anything, Sweetie Belle.”

“Oh, okay.”

She looked uncomfortable. Apple Bloom watched her rub her head with her hoof.

“Are you okay?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied.

C • M • C

Sweetie Belle took a drink of water and looked over at the other two. They were laughing over something she didn’t hear. She smiled at the fun they were having.

She saw them glance her way, and then frowned. Why were they laughing at her? They shouldn’t be laughing at her!

The pain in her head worsened. She groaned and closed her eyes, rubbing her temples to try to relieve the pain.

There was a hoof on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Apple Bloom standing beside her, a look of worry across her face.

“I don’t think yer okay,” Apple Bloom said.

“It’s just a headache,” Sweetie Belle insisted, trying to smile, “It’ll go away with sleep.”

“Maybe we should go to bed then,” Scootaloo suggested, “Besides, it’s getting late and we have school tomorrow.”

“Okay, Since Sweetie Belle is feeling bad, she can sleep on the bed. Scootaloo, you sleep on that couch there.”

“No,” Sweetie Belle said, “It’s okay, really. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Are you sure?” Scootaloo asked.

“Absolutely. Toss me a blanket.”

Sweetie Belle curled up on the couch, and the other two dusted off the bed before slipping under the covers.

“It’s warm,” Sweetie Belle cooed, already drifting off.

C • M • C

Apple Bloom left her room and headed down the hallway. It was oddly dark, even for the middle of the night. She heard a sound coming from her sister's bedroom. Without hesitation she turned and flung open the door to the master bedroom. A pony stood there, staring at her with a wide grin and cold dead eyes.

“Liar.”

Apple Bloom woke up shaking and breathing hard. It took her a moment to relax and convince herself that it was all just a dream. A really, really nasty dream.

She sighed and turned over, freezing in panic when she heard a moan coming from beside her.

Her first thought was Applejack, but her sister hadn’t let her sleep in the same bed for two years, not since she got over her fear of the boogeymare.

Then she remembered where she was and relaxed. It was just Scootaloo, sound asleep. Apple Bloom tried to sit up and crane her neck to get a good look at the couch, but with the candles out it was too dark to see.

Apple Bloom shivered and slid under the blankets again. For this time of year, it shouldn’t be nearly this cold. A fire certainly would have made the house feel a bit more welcoming.

C • M • C

No!

Sweetie Belle sat bolt-upright on the couch. The pain in her head had died down a bit, at least.

She lied back down and stared up at the ceiling. There was something wrong, something tugging at her gut. She’d lost something, but she couldn’t remember what.

A sound caused her to tense up.

[In and out, she reminded herself, Breathe slowly.

That seemed to help a little. The sound came again—a low murmur.

“Apple Bloom, is that you?” she asked, “Scootaloo?”

They didn’t respond, but the whispers continued.

“Girls? Girls, answer me.”

The sound stopped.

“Apple Bloom?”

She could feel her face turning red. How dare they ignore her? They thought they could just shovel her onto this couch and pretend she didn’t exist?

No, no that wasn’t right. Sweetie Belle’s anger dissolved and she closed her eyes again. She had even offered to take the couch.

How could she even imagine that they would be that mean to her?

C • M • C

Scootaloo was having trouble paying attention in class. The words on the board just seemed to meld into incomprehensible scribbles. Why did it matter anyway? When was she ever going to need to know the history of unicorn blah blah blah in her life?

A buzzing sound came from behind her and Scootaloo’s heart sank. She spun around in her chair, and sitting right behind her was a changeling, its fangs bared and its lifeless eyes trained right on her.

“What’s wrong Scootaloo?” Sweetie Belle asked, but when Scootaloo turned to face her there was a changeling in her seat, scowling at Scootaloo.

The classroom was full of changelings, each one turned to glare at Scootaloo. She looked around, but there were no more real ponies in the classroom. She looked at the board.

‘How to eat a pony,’ the chalk read.

“Well well well,” Cheerilee said, and when Scootaloo looked up it was Queen Chrysalis looking back down at her. “It looks like we got a faker here, boys and girls. And you know what we do to fakers.”

Every changeling in the room jumped out of their seat and raced toward Scootaloo, their mouths open wide.

Scootaloo stirred and turned over in her half-away state. Her heart was still pounding. She clutched the homemade doll in her grip even tighter than before and tried to fall into a more comfortable sleep.

The sound of hoofsteps came through the door.

Who in the hay is walking around at—

Her eyes shot wide open and her heart skipped a beat. A quick reach to the other side of the bed proved that Apple Bloom was still sleeping next to her, and by sitting up and squinting her eyes Scootaloo could make out the shape of a small filly on the couch.

The hoofsteps stopped, and then somepony began rapping at the door.

Scootaloo ducked below the covers and squeezed her doll tighter than ever.

Author's Note

Sorry this is a day late. It’s significantly longer than I would have hoped, but at least it turned out okay. I considered breaking it up into yet another chapter, but I don’t think it’s so long that you guys won’t read it.

So this is the first night in the house, and the chapter that pretty much makes or breaks this story, I think. Don’t worry, they’ll definitely encounter more as it goes along, but this chapter sets the mood and clues for what happens later. If you weren’t at least a little creeped out now, I might be in trouble.

On that note, if anyone out there with more experience writing horror (that is, anyone whose written any horror at all) has any suggestions on how I can improve, feel free to share.