What Lies Beneath

PART ONE Chapter One: The House

An empty house sits on an empty property. No one has lived there for almost fifty years. There is a myth about this house. It says that whoever sets foot onto this abandoned property shall perish the same way that the people who lived there once did so long ago. However, there are a few daredevils who have wandered onto this land. Their disappearances have only fueled the fables power.

For years, parents have told their children to steer clear of this horrible place, but not all who hear the warning listen. It didn't take long after the fifth child went missing for that small town, just outside of Connecticut, to go silent. The people who lived there evacuated. The town officials reported the cause of their evacuation as a major gas leak. No one has lived there since.

That is, until now.

Two mysterious women, old in age, have recently purchased the entire estate and the town that surrounds it. They have placed a large fence around the town as to prevent strays from wandering in.

They spend their days fixing up the old house and the town. They are preparing for the arrival of the chosen twelve. One of the women, who is a few noticeable years older than the other spends most of her afternoons by the pond.

She often sits on her knees and leans over the water's clear surface to look at her reflection. The water is a curious thing. It doesn't show her as she is, but as she once was.

The house knows her and will therefore do her no harm.

The other woman, however, spends most of her afternoons wandering the halls of the abandoned house looking at the pictures on the walls. The old rotten frames tell the story of a happy family. Most of them depicting a beautiful young girl. She is always smiling and laughing. That is until she is older.

The woman removes the pictures of the girl that depict her frowning and afraid. No, she doesn't want their guests to know what happened, at least not yet. She hides the photographs in the attic and then locks the door. She tucks the large antique key into the fold of her oversized skirt. The house moans its disapproval. As if in response she pats gently pats the wall and whispers calming words to it.

For two years they fix everything up. They need it to be perfect. They dust and laugh. They tell old stories from their youth. Then on the last day of the second year they sit down together at the old wooden table in the kitchen and write twelve letters.

Each letter is addressed to a different unsuspecting person. They make sure to write the letters with special enchantments so that only the people that the letters are intended for can read them. They don't want interlopers. When they are done, they gather up the sealed letters and place them in the mail. The letters won't arrive at their designations for a little over a week.

During the three weeks of waiting the women keep to themselves. They don't speak to each other; they speak only to the house. They ask for its help with their plans. They pray to their respective God's for assistance in anything that they may need during this time.

At the end of the long weeks, the doorbell rings and at last it is time to begin.