Speaker 1: Hey guys, it's E. J. Miller here at Fast Food Horror.
I'm the editor, creator, writer, and voice for most of
the characters you've heard here. I want to apologize for
the lack of content these last few weeks. I was
cast in a musical, and over the last few months
I've been at rehearsal at the theater every single day.
We just wrapped up our performances, so we'll be getting
back onto a somewhat regular schedule of releases here going forward.
So having said that, I hope you enjoy our next
installment of the Tale of the House on Morrow Hill.
And without further ado, your MC, I goor Froedrick.
Speaker 2: Welcome to Fast Food Horror.
Speaker 3: In our next installment of the Tale of the House
on Morrow Hill, entitled The Night Parade, the fifth and
sixth Night, where our resident is starting to find what
really is going on in the home he now resides.
Speaker 1: I spent the rest of the night on the couch,
sleeping on and off with each creek and sigh of
the bones of the ancient home, working my plan over
and over, making sure I had each possibility covered. I
only hoped I could find the necessary items in town
to do it. I woke the next morning before my
wife with the aid of my Apple Watch, Thank God
for that. I was so exhausted and I had a
limited amount of time to get it done. You see,
we were notified by our lawyer the day prior that
we were needed in the city to sign paperwork finalizing
the transfer of the home and estate, the establishment of
the bed and breakfast there in our new residence, along
with some other paperwork, insurance stuff, and what nots. We
decided we'd travel into the city late that morning, meet
with the lawyer in the afternoon to cross all the
t's and dot all the eyes. Since it would be
entirely too late to travel home. After that, we'd spend
the night, maybe visit some friends while we were in town.
I was really looking forward to the sleep art the most.
I raised into town to hopefully find the items needed
at the hardware store, getting an early start so not
to make us late to leave for the lawyer. I
wasn't sure how long it would take me to get
everything installed and running like I wanted. I was reasonably
sure though I could handle the task. Like most projects,
all the YouTube videos made it look so easy. I
entered the hardware store, and was greeted by the bass
voice of the burly, white haired owner. As I walked
towards where he sat nursing a coffee at the counter.
He introduced himself as Theodore Tolbert, but told me everyone
called him Teddy Bear. I could easily see why without
the name, a guy standing well over six foot six
and tipping this scale somewhere north of three hundred and
fifty pounds with shoulders and a frame like that could
only be called some variation of bear. I told him
as much, and he go fowd, followed by us somewhat
bashful aw shucks. When I told him my name, he
immediately knew my wife, her family, and where we lived
without a blink. Small town life was odd and nice
all at once. As we exchanged pleasantries, my eyes caught
the flash of shiny plastic off the store light hanging
behind the counter. I was shocked to find the exact
item right there in the town. Time forgot. I pointed
it out to my new friend Teddy Bear and asked
for five of them. He was quite happy to do so,
and even commented he didn't think they would even sell
when he stocked them. I raced back home through town
and up Marrow Hill, led out a hey babe to
let Steph know I had returned, and set about my task.
It only took an hour and a half to have
all five installed and running without fail. Having this little
bit of solace, I quickly went and helped Steph pack
our things into the car and off to the city
we went. I won't bore you with the detailed account
of my sleeping the entire drive as Steph drove jamming
out to jelly roll, the meeting with the lawyer, dinner
with friends, and our overnight in the hotel, or the
shopping trip the next day for do dads and decorations
for the BMB, or the brunch that turned into lunch
that morphed into a bar hang with more friends, and
a second overnight in the city and stead all fast
forward to the morning of the seventh day. As we
set off from the city. Late that morning, the second
coffee kicked in and I remembered about my purchase from
the hardware store I made before we left. You see,
I wanted to know what was going on in the
house at night, not only to prove it to my wife,
but to prove it to myself. I had set up
Wi Fi cameras in the bedroom, the kitchen, the front
door and rear door, and the living room. As Steph drove,
I fumbled with my cell phone and logged into the
app that was connected to the cameras. What the cameras
recorded were broken into files based on the date. I
found two files and clicked on the oldest file for
the first day. On my cell phone's screen were five
separate windows, each one for each camera. I watched the
recorded video and started advancing it at a faster speed,
hoping to see something, searching frantically with my eyes to
see the slightest bit of anything out of the ordinary.
And at two thirty three am, that's exactly what I saw.
The something out of the ordinary started on the bedroom camera.
I spotted it along the baseboard on the opposite wall
of the bed, a dark liquid slowly, like a dark tie,
it crept a shadow. It slowly moved up the wall
with nothing projecting it, no solid thing casting the shadow
that slowly grew with a very real head and arms
and legs that began to move about the room's perimeter,
seemingly searching for something before exiting the room. My eyes
immediately moved to the kitchen camera, where the shadow joined
a multitude of shadows walking about the perimeter, creeping up
and down the walls before after a few minutes, they assembled,
and the shadows marched in a macabre parade of shades
to the door at the far end of the kitchen,
the door that led to the basement. I quickly reversed
the video and watched it again, then again, and again
and again, shocked and surprised, fascinated and horrified all at once.
I tried to hide my reaction because I did not
tell Steph what I had installed in the house. That
was an entirely new conversation to have, and probably an argument. Besides,
she seemed entirely too wrapped up in the drive in
whatever podcast she was listening to, something new from Gray Matter,
that acid horror anthology. I rewound the entire video, this
time paying attention to the moments before. At the front
and rear doors. Nothing, no one entered, no one proceeded
past the doors, No one was seen beyond the window pane.
The shadow had materialized in the bedroom and disappeared in
a macabre procession behind the basement door. The kitchen shades
had proceeded down the steps from the second floor or
captured on the living room camera, and skulked into the kitchen,
parading about before disappearing behind the basement door. I clicked
on the file for the second night, I advanced just
prior to two thirty three am, and saw it again,
just like the night before. I then rewound the recording
to the very beginning and concentrated on the front and
rear doors, watching the windows caught in the camera. Nothing,
not one person, no one. My mind spun shadows. Why
what were they and what was in the basement drawing
them