My name is Adam Bennett, and I was just your run of the mill twenty something. Dead end job, still living in my hometown, and hanging out with the guys I went to high school with. One day that all changed. This is the story of how I got yoked with the greatest responsibility any guy my age has ever had. We’ve gotten a bit ahead of ourselves though! So let’s go back a little so you can see how this all started. You’re in for a hell of a ride, buckle up!

  “Keep the change, Kid!”, the drunk cackled as he slammed the door in my face. A lousy thirty cent tip. It has just been that kind of day. Mr. McCreedy needed a new joke. Every time he ordered a pizza from the local slop shop, he would give me just enough to cover his bill, then he’d laugh like he hadn’t done this six times in that many weeks. As I was loading my heat bag back into my car, my phone started to ring. Jake, the ever reliable burnout, and my best friend since grade school was on the other end. “I gotta get out of this town, Jakey.”, I said as I put the phone to my ear. “You know I hate when you call me that, Adam. What is it this time? McGreedy getting on your case again?” Jake's throaty chuckle seemed to echo in my ear. I let his laugh hang in the air for a moment too long. “Are you about done for the night?”, he asked as the silence stretched awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Just one more delivery to the creepy old mansion at the edge of town.” I replied, peering at the last ticket I had for the night. “Don’t bring any ghosts with you back to my place, Doucher. See ya soon.” Jake laughed again as he hung up.

  What a jackass. If I hadn’t known him for the better part of two decades I wouldn’t hang out with the guy. One last stop to the old Willow Manor. I deliver to that spooky old mansion every week, and I have never seen anyone pick up the pizzas I leave at the door. I haven’t seen them stack up either though; so someone must pick them up. I clicked my car into gear and sped off toward the outskirts of town. Old Hollow Road seemed to stretch as my beater ate up the miles underneath it. Time slowed to a crawl the closer I got to the old event hall turned living space. “I wonder who lives there these days.” I pondered aloud. The ancient building warped in my vision as I turned into its winding drive. The proportions were all off, the windows too long, and the spire too short. I shook my head, clearly I had been up too long, and I was obviously seeing things now. When I looked back, the manor was its normal creepy self. “C’mon, Adam! Just get this over with, and then you can go to bed.” I psyched myself up as I got out of my car to hoof it the last ten feet to the yawning maw of the manor. “Willow Creek Pizzeria!” I bellowed as I knocked at the looming portal. “Same thing we do every night, Pinky.” I joked, unloading my hot bag and placing the pie on the doorstep. “Let’s get outta here, Scoob!” I chuckled loading back into my car. I threw one last withering glance at the ominous villa and for just a moment, space seemed to warble and the mansion both existed and didn’t at the same time. “I have to get some sleep, holy!” I shook my head as I shifted the car into gear and peeled out of the manor’s driveway.

  I dialed Jake’s number from memory, “Hey, Buddy. I gotta take a raincheck on the booze cruise tonight, two all-nighters back to back are really taking it out of me tonight.” I said before he could get out any of his usual snarks. “Alright, old man.”, he said with some levity. “Get some sleep, because I’m calling the rain check in tomorrow evening.” Jake added and then the line went dead before I could say anything in response. The drive back home dragged into an eternity, every second became an hour. After what seemed like three extra days on the road I pulled up to my beaten down apartment complex, Aspen Acres, a ten unit shithole run by Samuel Mervin, also known as Sleazy Sam. Hot water that was never hot enough, air conditioning that was never cool enough, and a new roof leak twice a year. I jiggled my key into the lock, and with a little twist and a lot of hope I unlocked the door to my Fortress of Solitude.I didn’t even get my work clothes off before flopping into bed. My brain cashed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. My dreams were plagued by the haunting visage of The WIllow Manor. The twisting warping facade danced behind my eyes. Whenever I tried to focus on the true exterior of the chateau, a keening wail screeched through my mind. A sound like a siren’s call, drawing my attention to the great double doors. The great entryway daring me to allow my focus to linger on it. “Adam. Please, help me.” the words whispered from the egress. As I stepped closer to the manor the call grew stronger. A hypnotic melody lulling me into a false sense of security. A burst of power exploded through me as I grasped the antique handle. As the doors swung wide, my eyes shot open.

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  “Holy shit!”, I exclaimed as I bolted upright in bed. “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Adam.”, I chuckled, heading toward the sink. As lukewarm water filled the basin, I raised a handful to scrub my face.”What was with that dream?” I asked aloud. Maybe I need to go back to the Manor and see what the hell is going on. “No! Have you lost your mind? Go back to the spooky mansion?! Lemme guess, you also think that the closet is the best place to hide in a horror movie? Don’t be an idiot, Adam. You can’t go back there.” My mind was racing. Something about that voice, pleading for help. I can’t just ignore it, can I? My morality and survival instinct were at war, torn between doing what I thought was right and what I thought was safe. “Alright, Adam. Time to nut up or shut up. You can’t act like a scared little boy forever.” I finally decided. I got dressed and grabbed the keys to my car. “No time like the present.” I chuckled grimly.

  My little sedan spat and sputtered as I moved down Old Hollow Road; back to the nightmare house. “It can’t be so bad during the day, right?” I reassured myself before the Manor came into view. “C’mon, Man. You’re twenty-five; you can’t keep jumping at shadows like this.” I scolded. “Time to put on your big boy pants and figure out what the hell is going on!” I finally said aloud. As my car wound through the old country roads outside town, I finally got a glimpse of the Willow Manor. The foreboding edifice to all that was unholy loomed just a half a mile away. “It’s not too late to turn around.” The Coward whined in my head. “It’s just an old house! You’re better than that.” The Hero chided. “I am better than turning around! Let’s see how scary this place actually is.” I agreed with The Hero.

  The gate to the manor lay open; a lackadaisical bastion against the horrors beyond its walls, cloyingly whispering for me to cross into their domain. As my trusty steed carried me through the threshold, the engine gave up the ghost. Her whinnying rumble choked to silence.

  “That’s just FUCKING GREAT!” I shouted, slamming my fists against the steering wheel. Alright, relax. It’s fine. You have roadside assistance for a reason. Just calm down and make a call to your insurance agent. A long quiet minute later, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Abi, the customer service rep at Albright insurance. “Good afternoon, Mr. Bennett! How may I assist you today?” her musical voice trilled through the receiver. “Hey, Abi. Can I get a tow back into town? I’m out at the haunted mansion, and my car died.” I begged for her to rescue me. “Uhm, I can have a truck out in like–” her voice trailed off, likely checking the tow schedule. “Three hours from now! Will that work, Mr. Bennett?”, the smile in her voice mocked me. I sighed in exasperation, “Sure, Abi. That’ll work just fine.” “Excellent, Tuck should be out there no later than 5:30! Have an Albright day, Mr. Bennett!” she exclaimed, and the line went dead. “Now what am I going to do for the next three hours?”