Speaker 1: When I was fourteen, my dad would drive me out
Speaker 1: to my friend's house to play airsoft in the woods
Speaker 1: near Wells, Maine. We would go into the woods behind
Speaker 1: the sand pit that was right behind his house, where
Speaker 1: we built a pretty decent fort that was surrounded by
Speaker 1: a knee high wall. Inside the fort, we'd made fox
Speaker 1: holes and we had a fire pit in the middle.
Speaker 1: We had a lot of fun spending nights out there
Speaker 1: and doing the stupid things that kids do, like shooting
Speaker 1: each other with our air guns and throwing CO two
Speaker 1: canisters in the fire. On more than one occasion, we
Speaker 1: spent the whole night huddled up by the fire. We
Speaker 1: were freezing and waiting for the sun to come up
Speaker 1: and thaw us out. My friend Greg, he and I
Speaker 1: had been at the Sea Cadet program together for several years.
Speaker 1: The Sea Cadets is a youth program for the next
Speaker 1: that was similar to the Boy's Scouts. He would later
Speaker 1: serve several years in the military. He was a no
Speaker 1: nonsense person and that kind of guy, and you could
Speaker 1: trust your life with him. That's only one reason why
Speaker 1: I ended up believing him when he told me this story.
Speaker 1: On one of the occasions when we were hanging out
Speaker 1: in our fort with a few of our friends. We
Speaker 1: decided to do a night maneuver operation. At that age,
Speaker 1: darkness was our friend, or so we thought. Darkness is
Speaker 1: never your friend, though. It creeps over the woods and
Speaker 1: it puts an extra blanket of protection on those things
Speaker 1: that can hurt you, while leaving mere humans more vulnerable
Speaker 1: and in greater danger. During our operation, my squad was
Speaker 1: in charge of guarding the fort while Greg and his
Speaker 1: squad spread out and they went around the sand pit
Speaker 1: and then circled back to try to lay waste to
Speaker 1: our defense. It was just me and my other friend
Speaker 1: and we were sitting there waiting for a while. We
Speaker 1: knew it would take Greg and his squad a little
Speaker 1: time to circle around the sand pit. I was in
Speaker 1: the forward fox hole, but something drew my attention to
Speaker 1: the rear. I looked back and I saw what looked
Speaker 1: like a human being crawling over the knee wall at
Speaker 1: the back of the fort. It was too dark to
Speaker 1: make out who it was, but when it stood up,
Speaker 1: I decided that it couldn't be Greg. It didn't look right.
Speaker 1: Its arms were too long for its body, and as
Speaker 1: I watched it stood there and silently watched back. I
Speaker 1: didn't move or speak a word, and neither did this thing. Eventually,
Speaker 1: it dropped back down on all fours, and it silently
Speaker 1: moved off into the woods. I never once believed it
Speaker 1: was Greg. It didn't match his silho wet, and nor
Speaker 1: did I think it was any of the other kids
Speaker 1: that we were out there with. That's why I never
Speaker 1: raised my airgun and shot at it. Several long minutes later,
Speaker 1: we heard and his groove walking down the path from
Speaker 1: the sand pit. The game continued, and I pushed the
Speaker 1: incident to the back of my mind. Some time later,
Speaker 1: Greg came to me with a drawing he'd made. It
Speaker 1: was a black humanoid figure with what looked like dreadlocks
Speaker 1: hanging off the back of its head. He said he'd
Speaker 1: seen it in the woods. I didn't believe him, but
Speaker 1: Greg wasn't the kind of makeup stories, and besides, I
Speaker 1: was reminded of something I'd seen crawling over the knee wall.
Speaker 1: How could I deny Greg's story when I had one
Speaker 1: of my own. I ask him then if he or
Speaker 1: any of the others were trying to pull a prank
Speaker 1: on us that night, and he swore that it wasn't
Speaker 1: him or anyone else in his group. Over the years,
Speaker 1: I've asked him several more times, thinking maybe with time
Speaker 1: he would admit it was a joke. But he's never
Speaker 1: changed his story. Neither has he ever changed his story
Speaker 1: about the thing he drew in the picture. I don't
Speaker 1: know what lives around Wells, Maine. It's an isolated spot
Speaker 1: with places that only ten people in one hundred would
Speaker 1: ever explore. The forests go for miles. I live in
Speaker 1: Michigan now, and I work with the Coastguard. I don't
Speaker 1: get back there much, but sometimes late at night, when
Speaker 1: I'm alone, I can't help but wonder what I saw
Speaker 1: croll over the knee wall that night, and if it
Speaker 1: was the same thing Greg had drawn in that picture.
Speaker 1: There once was a line from a play written by
Speaker 1: poet William Concreve in sixteen ninety seven that states music
Speaker 1: hath charms to soothe a savage beast, to soften rocks,
Speaker 1: or bend a knotted oak. The phrase ended up in
Speaker 1: the movie King Kong. Roughly translated, it means music has
Speaker 1: the power to calm even the angriest of beasts, including Bigfoot.
Speaker 1: I grew up in the Santa Cruz Mountains in California,
Speaker 1: and I've acquired what some would describe as a lifetime
Speaker 1: of unusual encounters. Some stories involve wild animals, they're easy
Speaker 1: to identify, while others are chilling and difficult to put
Speaker 1: into words. I often joked that I could write a
Speaker 1: fiction story and it would not be as crazy as
Speaker 1: my actual life experiences. My family camped a lot when
Speaker 1: I was a small child, although very rarely in campgrounds.
Speaker 1: We packed in and packed out, hopeful to eat fish
Speaker 1: and otherwise forage for our meals, but we also came
Speaker 1: prepared with rice and other staples. If necessary, We hiked
Speaker 1: into places that had fresh water sources clean enough to drink.
Speaker 1: I was curious about the Tibetaneti from a very young age,
Speaker 1: even before I could read. My father told me about
Speaker 1: sasquatch and suggested to me that they are likely the
Speaker 1: same species. When I was fourteen, my mother and I
Speaker 1: went to a weekend bigfoot seminar hosted by a well
Speaker 1: known indigenous elder. In addition, I happened to be seated
Speaker 1: next to another popular researcher in the field of cryptid studies,
Speaker 1: and I found out that both men had a long
Speaker 1: standing working relationship. Their stories fascinated me and kind of
Speaker 1: colored the way I see cryptids in general. Years later,
Speaker 1: I was in Sedona, Arizona, enjoying my youngest child's first
Speaker 1: camping trip. We were at a place that was really
Speaker 1: an RV resort with a tent camping area that was
Speaker 1: beautiful and wild. I surveyed our surroundings. There was a
Speaker 1: fence that was mostly overgrown with scrub oak. The meadow
Speaker 1: on the other side was a vibrant and seemingly untouched green,
Speaker 1: flourishing and impressive. I could see a huge living cottonwood
Speaker 1: about two hundred yards away, and there was a thick
Speaker 1: and wild forested area to the east with remnants of
Speaker 1: cave dwellings that remained from a First Nations tribe that
Speaker 1: disappeared without a trace centuries ago. Well, we carried on
Speaker 1: until about ten PM. My dog, a sharp ee Cody
Speaker 1: mix that I named Augie, had run off from the area.
Speaker 1: As we were the only tent campers in the place.
Speaker 1: I could hear the jingle from her tags, and I
Speaker 1: decided to pull out my dejura. Do think that's how
Speaker 1: you pronounced that that I had required on one of
Speaker 1: my many adventures. Now, de juri, do did youI a doo?
Speaker 1: Digi a doo? That's how you said. Digi a doo
Speaker 1: is a flute like musical instrument that produces a long,
Speaker 1: single note drone. The sound can be high or low
Speaker 1: in tone, depending on the length of the instrument. It
Speaker 1: was developed by the Aboriginal people in northern Australia one
Speaker 1: thousand years ago. If you're really good at it, you
Speaker 1: can add vocal textures to it, similar to an animal sound,
Speaker 1: and it takes a lot of oxygen through the mouth
Speaker 1: and knows. They refer to the technique as circular breathing.
Speaker 1: I played and suddenly heard Augie running into the campsite
Speaker 1: at full tilt. She curled up in a tight ball
Speaker 1: at my feet as close as she could get to
Speaker 1: the fire. This was abnormal. Something definitely had spooked her,
Speaker 1: and she expected me to protect her. I went back
Speaker 1: to playing my music. After fifteen minutes, I smell something
Speaker 1: that resembled a skunk. Now, usually a skunk scent does
Speaker 1: not bother me, but this was offensive and it was
Speaker 1: faint on the wind. The odor became stronger and playing
Speaker 1: the digiid requires one to breathe in deeply through the nose.
Speaker 1: Close to midnight, I heard some snapping in the scrub
Speaker 1: oak about fifty feet away. Perhaps my music was being
Speaker 1: appreciated by whatever was keeping watch on my camp site.
Speaker 1: Now obliged heartily, but after a while decided fifty feet
Speaker 1: was close enough. I moved my kiddo into the tent
Speaker 1: and went to extinguish the fire, and a chill ran
Speaker 1: through me. So I decided to allow the fire to
Speaker 1: burn down, and I went back inside the tent, and
Speaker 1: I zumped only the mosquito netting so I could keep
Speaker 1: an eye on the flames well. I lie down and
Speaker 1: closed my eyes, and at that moment I became aware
Speaker 1: of a distant drum beat with a rhythm resembling the
Speaker 1: steady pulse of a heartbeat. It was emanating from across
Speaker 1: the meadow, and the drum beat did not waver or
Speaker 1: stop until sunrise, when it ended. I have never known
Speaker 1: a human to keep a simple beat for four or
Speaker 1: five hours without a pause or a break. I felt
Speaker 1: like it was in response to the music that I
Speaker 1: had offered earlier. It didn't occur to me what I
Speaker 1: had experienced that night until I documented it many weeks
Speaker 1: later in my journal, writing it was like a skunk,
Speaker 1: but predatory. I looked at my sentence and then drew
Speaker 1: an arrow down to the bottom of the page and wrote,
Speaker 1: in big letters, skunk ape. Veronica Amber had no recollection
Speaker 1: of her first encounter with the wisps. They came as
Speaker 1: inconspicuous and unexpected, like flurries of indoored dust that float
Speaker 1: and fly when bathed by a sheen of sunlight. At
Speaker 1: the beginning of their residence at three point fifteen Copacitic Lane,
Speaker 1: just before their street transitioned into the main road in town.
Speaker 1: Her home knew a time when it was vacant of
Speaker 1: the wisps, and the only specters filling the inside of
Speaker 1: their projections from the old films that her father would
Speaker 1: display on dark velvet walls of the house. The walls
Speaker 1: of their victorian used to hold no haunting tendrils of
Speaker 1: their existence. The hallways heard no shrills or cuttle walls
Speaker 1: from a life silenced by death, and the marble floor
Speaker 1: of their historic home at one point had less of
Speaker 1: a tendency to send shivers up one's another regions and
Speaker 1: into the spine. The wisps were invisible inhabitants of their home,
Speaker 1: but to the rest of the world they were simply
Speaker 1: called ghosts. Veronica Amber's acquaintance with them was far from
Speaker 1: the horror filled nonsense she'd read about in books and
Speaker 1: watched in movies. For the more the whists made themselves
Speaker 1: known to her, the more annoyed she became. It seemed
Speaker 1: they were always around, causing mischief, popping out at the
Speaker 1: most inconvenient times, and filling her ears with macabre groans
Speaker 1: in the dark in an attempt to inflict fear into
Speaker 1: her soul when she only wanted to have a good
Speaker 1: night's sleep, and since then she had scarcely known a
Speaker 1: moment's peace. Veronica Amber, or Vam as she liked to
Speaker 1: be called, awoke on Halloween morning with an abrupt opening
Speaker 1: of her eyes. She lay on her back in her
Speaker 1: attic room, watching the warmth of the dawning sun changed
Speaker 1: the color of her slanted ceiling. She heard a shuffling
Speaker 1: of feet, moved her eyes to the foot of the bed,
Speaker 1: and there stood a lady Wisp looking at her with
Speaker 1: a cocked head, her spaghetti strands of hair falling on
Speaker 1: to a ghostly shoulder where the clavical and humorous were
Speaker 1: exposed underneath decayed and stretched out torn skin. This particular
Speaker 1: wisp never bothered Vam like the others did, but the
Speaker 1: gaze she gave her always made her feel uncomfortable because
Speaker 1: she knew the apparition was trying to say something through
Speaker 1: those glassy, unblinking eyes. Perhaps it was due to the
Speaker 1: dislocated jaw and missing tongue that kept her from saying
Speaker 1: what was on her mind, but regardless, Vam had no
Speaker 1: time to feel sorry for something that had the same
Speaker 1: design as a fart in the wind. It's Halloween today,
Speaker 1: Paprika Vam said, lifting her head from the pillow and
Speaker 1: using her elbows to hold her up as she faced
Speaker 1: the wisp. A Vam named all the wisps after spices,
Speaker 1: and Paprika happened to fit this specific one. Not only that,
Speaker 1: but it's my last time as host now that I'm eighteen.
Speaker 1: After this, I'm relieved of all duties. Vam gave a
Speaker 1: quick stretched and moved her body into a sitting position
Speaker 1: on the side of her bed. She felt the moist
Speaker 1: hot fogs around her feet, and when she looked down,
Speaker 1: she glanced at the open mouth of a Regano, an
Speaker 1: older Wisp who was bodyless and used his old man
Speaker 1: head to roll around their home. His gurgly, foaming mouth
Speaker 1: was stretched wide in an expression that would make any
Speaker 1: normal humans soil themselves in fright. His cracky lips clung
Speaker 1: around Vam's feet, leaving strands of ghostly saliva on her ankles.
Speaker 1: Fam rolled her eyes and wiggled her toes, visible through
Speaker 1: the rotted eyelids of his head, and she kicked him,
Speaker 1: making him vanish into nothing. You're disgusting, she muttered, moving
Speaker 1: toward the bathroom. Before she reached the toilet, time, a
Speaker 1: young boy Whisp who looked about six or seven, popped
Speaker 1: up from the floor and shrieked like a banshee. She
Speaker 1: gasped more from the suddenness of it than from fright,
Speaker 1: as his face collided into hers, and before she had
Speaker 1: a moment to swat him away, he disappeared. Time was
Speaker 1: the one who bothered her the most, and as many
Speaker 1: endeavors to frighten her and failing to do so, it
Speaker 1: made him the one she also felt closest to, almost
Speaker 1: like a little annoying brother, but with maggots crawling out
Speaker 1: of his nose and ears. It was in the alone
Speaker 1: hours of the morning that Vam fell the most connected
Speaker 1: to the house. Her parents, who taught night classes at
Speaker 1: Nickt University, remained asleep for the majority of the day,
Speaker 1: and it was in their solitude that she learned to
Speaker 1: speak to the house. Just one touch to a chimney
Speaker 1: stone or a beam of wood was enough for the
Speaker 1: house to remind and speak to her about how it
Speaker 1: was before their wisps had occupied the space. She would
Speaker 1: get images of her mother and father, and their pale
Speaker 1: faces contrasted with the black exterior of the home. The
Speaker 1: oldest and most abandoned, neglected house on Copaestic Lane was
Speaker 1: the one they had imprinted on. Could it be genetics,
Speaker 1: her father, Professor Victor Ambrose Pror, asked one night during
Speaker 1: dinner over his stake Flombay, many years ago, when Vam
Speaker 1: had confided in him about the wisps. When we adopted you,
Speaker 1: we knew at some point your health would become a
Speaker 1: source of worry for us. He said, well, that is
Speaker 1: a possibility, my dear, but we must also not reule
Speaker 1: out the screen time. Her mother, doctor Vivian Amelia Pryor,
Speaker 1: had said, placing a cold, pale hand on Vam's forehead.
Speaker 1: That new iPad we got you for Christmas has become
Speaker 1: a bit of an addiction for you, darling. Are you
Speaker 1: sure you aren't hallucinating these images? A young Vam had
Speaker 1: smiled at them, half lovingly and half disappointed that her
Speaker 1: parents couldn't see the wisps, She shook her head. No, mother,
Speaker 1: I'm not imagining them. Theyre as real as you and
Speaker 1: I father. I can touch them, I can smell them,
Speaker 1: but when I try to scream, they disappear. At this point,
Speaker 1: being scared isn't an option. I just want them to
Speaker 1: leave me alone. Her mother's plum lipstick stained mouth formed
Speaker 1: a sympathetic frown. I'm so sorry, dearest, I wish there
Speaker 1: was something we could do to make it go away.
Speaker 1: That had been many years ago, and since then numerous
Speaker 1: wisps had appeared to her, as real and as vexatious
Speaker 1: as ever, for better or for worse, but not for long.
Speaker 1: Comes springtime, when Van was due to graduate, she'd leave
Speaker 1: her home, seething with wisps, to start a new life
Speaker 1: and leave the nest, a phrase her father despised and
Speaker 1: regarded with contempt. Pishposh, he always said when that phrase
Speaker 1: was uttered. We aren't eagles, for goodness' sake, So I
Speaker 1: want no more talk about leaving nest and whatnot. Now, Vam,
Speaker 1: my darling, I couldn't be prouder of the person that
Speaker 1: you become and the one you are yet to be.
Speaker 1: And like any father, I'm disconsolate at the idea of
Speaker 1: seeing you go, but exhilarated at the prospects that await you.
Speaker 1: Not flesh of our flesh, nor blood of our blood,
Speaker 1: but once you were handed into our arms, the darling
Speaker 1: child with the eyes as dark as coal, who appeared
Speaker 1: to us as a stranger, suddenly became the most beloved daughter.
Speaker 1: A most beloved daughter rang in Vam's head, and she
Speaker 1: dressed herself for the day. In the mirror, a young girl, Wisp,
Speaker 1: whom Vam had named Coriander, manifested herself beside Vam. She
Speaker 1: opened her mouth and let out a shrill scream that
Speaker 1: penetrated the ear drums with a searing intensity, and Vam
Speaker 1: covered her ears, but ignored her, and quickly placing a
Speaker 1: clip on her hair before making her way downstairs to
Speaker 1: finish the preparation for the night's Halloween party. A most
Speaker 1: beloved daughter, she thought to herself again, and a most
Speaker 1: beloved host. And when Vam was a young girl, shortly
Speaker 1: after the Priors had adopted her, she was given the
Speaker 1: responsibility of hosting a Halloween evening in their home. Mommy
Speaker 1: and Daddy have to sleep, dearest, and can only join
Speaker 1: later in the evening. Once we awaken, who will be
Speaker 1: there to entertain? Ain't our guest? Well, that is where
Speaker 1: you come in, said her mother. But I'm only a child,
Speaker 1: Vam had objected, Well, that works to our advantage, darling,
Speaker 1: her mother had said, kneeling to her level and pressing
Speaker 1: her pale forehead to Vams, they are more likely to
Speaker 1: trust you, and so they did. Every Halloween evening, the
Speaker 1: Priors would appoint Vam to welcome guests and passing trigger
Speaker 1: treats to their home. At the beginning, guests would question
Speaker 1: her on the whereabouts of her parents, to which Vam
Speaker 1: would reply, no worries, they are resting and we'll be
Speaker 1: with you shortly for dinner. In the kitchen, Vam started
Speaker 1: the ord'eures baked brye made to look like mommy, and
Speaker 1: she's in cracker platter, with bat and Jack o' lantern cutouts,
Speaker 1: a bowl of checks mix and candy for a monster munch,
Speaker 1: and guacamole with vegetables arranged to look like the face
Speaker 1: of a witch. It was all coming together, and it
Speaker 1: was still hours to go until lunch time. By the
Speaker 1: time it was sundown, Vam had decorated and set the
Speaker 1: food in the dining room. A meat loaf shaped to
Speaker 1: resemble the anatomy of a human body was left cooling
Speaker 1: on the counter when she went upstairs to change, and
Speaker 1: she opted for a simple black dress that hugged her
Speaker 1: slender frame. And putting on the final touches of her makeup,
Speaker 1: she heard a wheezing, echoey sound behind the curtain of
Speaker 1: her shower. Pushing the curtain back, Time jumped at her,
Speaker 1: squealing and laughing. As she went through her body and
Speaker 1: exited out the bathroom door, another wisp, A young looking
Speaker 1: male around Vam's age, stood staring at her underneath the showerhead.
Speaker 1: A harsh cut to the throat revealed a sliced trachea.
Speaker 1: Vam sighed and crossed her arms. Do you think you
Speaker 1: can keep it down, Nutmeg? Our guests are due to
Speaker 1: arrive soon, and the wheezing is distracting. Nutmeg said nothing
Speaker 1: but nodded, watching Vam roll her tube of lipstick back in.
Speaker 1: You're lucky. You're a handsome one, even more of a looker.
Speaker 1: Before Vam turned back to him, her hand on the
Speaker 1: light switch of the bathroom. You know, she used her
Speaker 1: index finger to swipe under her throat in a slashing manner.
Speaker 1: The sound of the doorbell below made Vam return to
Speaker 1: her responsibilities, and with a clap of her hand, she
Speaker 1: turned off the light and clambered down the stairs, remembering
Speaker 1: the meat loaf and placing it on the table. Before
Speaker 1: reaching the entrance, she stopped in the fourier, where above
Speaker 1: the grinning candlelight Jack o' lantern hung pictures of the
Speaker 1: hosts that came before her, The other priors, her sisters,
Speaker 1: the sisters she had never met, the sisters who had
Speaker 1: left to start a new life at eighteen once the
Speaker 1: new host was chosen, just like she would in the springtime,
Speaker 1: The sisters who had taken the same val their parents
Speaker 1: had taken when they were each adopted into the family.
Speaker 1: We will take care of you if you will take
Speaker 1: care of us, they had said. None of the previous
Speaker 1: prior daughters had been hosts at three point fifteen Copestic
Speaker 1: Lane when their nomadic parents staked a claim on the property.
Speaker 1: Vam had been the first one. With each passing year
Speaker 1: of Vam's life, she was slowly coming to terms with
Speaker 1: the truth about why the wisps were part of their
Speaker 1: home and why they were visible only to her. Vam
Speaker 1: doesn't remember her first encounter with a wisp, but she
Speaker 1: remembers when Peperika, who in her previous life was called Monica,
Speaker 1: entered in her fleshly human form as a guest in
Speaker 1: their home. And Oregano, who was once Mister Franks her
Speaker 1: English teacher time, used to be Spencer, a classmate she
Speaker 1: would play with in elementary school, and was the first
Speaker 1: guest she entertained in her first year as a host.
Speaker 1: Nutmeg was a package delivery worker who thought Vam looked
Speaker 1: rather pretty standing on the porch of her house in
Speaker 1: her black dress. Last Halloween. He went up the steps
Speaker 1: to introduce himself and entered, and unbeknownst to him that
Speaker 1: he would not be coming back out. The whiffs were
Speaker 1: who they were because they had all made the decision
Speaker 1: to be guests at three point fifteen Copacetic Lane. What
Speaker 1: bound them together other than death was their decision to
Speaker 1: trust Vam. Another ring of the doorbell sounded in the
Speaker 1: furyer coming, Vam called out, straightening her dress. Opening the door,
Speaker 1: she came face to face with a group of tricker treaders,
Speaker 1: young and old, friend groups and families. No one wanted
Speaker 1: to miss out on the opportunity to sneak a peek
Speaker 1: inside the old, creepy Victorian house that sat like a
Speaker 1: tempting siren on Copastic Lane. Hello, she exclaimed, putting on
Speaker 1: an unnaturally inviting as she opened the door. We've got
Speaker 1: candy for your buckets, and if you'd like to stay,
Speaker 1: we have snacks and food. We hope you can join
Speaker 1: us for a while this evening. Stepping aside, she allowed
Speaker 1: the group of guests to walk into the fourrier, directing
Speaker 1: them with her arm toward the parlor in the formal
Speaker 1: dining room. A murmur of excitement washed over the crowd,
Speaker 1: and they stepped over each other and pushed bodies away
Speaker 1: to be the first one to explore the house, and
Speaker 1: within a few minutes the parlor was full of guests
Speaker 1: socializing with each other, stuffing their faces with Vams snacks
Speaker 1: and cooked meals and taking pictures with their phones of
Speaker 1: the interior of the house and ooing and eyeing like
Speaker 1: museum lovers. Vam stood and watched the energy that filled
Speaker 1: the room, and with no friends or relatives to invite over,
Speaker 1: the prior house was for the most part empty and
Speaker 1: deprived of visitors. Halloween night was the only time when
Speaker 1: people wilfully invited themselves over without arousing suspicion. Outsiders who
Speaker 1: saw the crowd beckoning to the front door of the
Speaker 1: prior house didn't have to think twice about coming to
Speaker 1: a conclusion to explain the number of people entering the abode.
Speaker 1: It's Halloween, they'd say, with a shrug. Halloween's for friends
Speaker 1: and strangers to come. A knocking a perfect cover up.
Speaker 1: As many of the moocher played in the room, causing
Speaker 1: an uproar with people singing along, Vam slinked away from
Speaker 1: the parlor and ambled over to a door leading to
Speaker 1: the basement. Pitch black darkness swallowed up any traces of
Speaker 1: the light from the main floor as she squinted in
Speaker 1: her eyes to see what was below. Father, Mother, she
Speaker 1: called out quietly, it's time to wake up. Our guests
Speaker 1: are here. The early bat catches the worm. She heard
Speaker 1: a stirring in the darkness, and then heard her father speak, Hello, darling.
Speaker 1: Is the black tarp laid out in the parlor? Yes, sir.
Speaker 1: Every year I get compliments about the noise that it
Speaker 1: makes when they walk on top of it, But no
Speaker 1: grievances from this group so far. They're a pretty good crowd.
Speaker 1: Not a drop of blood will make its way to
Speaker 1: the marble floors and the doorbell, camera and projector. Have
Speaker 1: you tested that out? It works like a charm. I
Speaker 1: tried it earlier, and the projection of myself passing the
Speaker 1: sidewalk and coming up the steps was reversed perfectly to
Speaker 1: make it look like I came back down. Anyone watching
Speaker 1: our home, we'll see our guests leave after the evening
Speaker 1: is over. Her mother spoke, now, have you prepared the
Speaker 1: needles and the collection bags? Yes, mother, they're beside the
Speaker 1: plastic bins that hold the peroxide, bleach and enzyme solvents
Speaker 1: we use for cleanup. All the backup freezers have been
Speaker 1: up and running since this morning. I counted at least
Speaker 1: forty people who arrived once we break apart ligaments. It
Speaker 1: should be enough to fit everyone without tacking up space
Speaker 1: in the basement. It's quite a bit of Burger's and
Speaker 1: steak flambays ready for us to enjoy for another year.
Speaker 1: I hope we have more oh negatives than we did
Speaker 1: last Halloween. The flavor and the sauces we made just
Speaker 1: wasn't the same without their kick. Her father gave out
Speaker 1: a dark chuckle. Should we wear the fangs I got
Speaker 1: for us three years ago? My love? He spoke to
Speaker 1: his wife. Why ever would we want to do that?
Speaker 1: She responded. Vam couldn't see her father shrug, but felt
Speaker 1: him do. So. It's Halloween. If the people want to
Speaker 1: see Count Dracula, then who am I to deny them
Speaker 1: that pleasure? They'll be busy screaming, Dearest Veronica Amber. Has
Speaker 1: everyone sipped their refreshments, Vam nodded yes. Mother. In about
Speaker 1: three minutes, the anesthetic solution will take full effect. If
Speaker 1: you and father want to make a show of your entrance,
Speaker 1: it had better be quick before you lose them. Well
Speaker 1: that's a good girl. Now run along and see that
Speaker 1: our guest are enjoying. The party will be there very soon.
Speaker 1: Vam closed the door, and walked to the kitchen. She
Speaker 1: opened a drawer that held all the knives she had
Speaker 1: used in previous years. She grabbed a hold of a
Speaker 1: meat cleaver. This baby was her favorite, made it easier
Speaker 1: to cut through the skin and bone. She glanced over
Speaker 1: her shoulder and saw that the wisps of her home
Speaker 1: had gathered around her, all the ones she conjured by
Speaker 1: the work of her own hands. She gave them a
Speaker 1: sly smile, ready for some new roomies. Shutting the drawer
Speaker 1: with her hip, she walked past the wisps who were protesting.
Speaker 1: Hiding the meat cleaver behind her, she clenched it behind
Speaker 1: the shoulder blades of her back, used her free hand
Speaker 1: a mute the music. All the eyes of her guests
Speaker 1: looked at her, with their ears perkedin bodies frozen. Vam
Speaker 1: smiled at them and gave her final announcement of the night.
Speaker 1: I just wanted to give you all the big thanks
Speaker 1: and a grand welcome to our humble little home. My
Speaker 1: name is Van Pryor, and I'll be your host for
Speaker 1: the evening.