Yemike:
oga gregg, you've been doing a great job in using your writting skills and talent to put together this fantastic write up, and i must say una well done o.
Thanks for the mention although i came late make u no flog me abeg.
Lastly, i like how the suspence is coming keep it up.
More hair to your......?

Lol I no fit finish the sentence oooooo
Thanks for showing up bruh..Means a lot

greg42:

Lol I no fit finish the sentence oooooo Thanks for showing up bruh..Means a lot

oya i don join The Halloween Haunting BRT make una dey drive dey go.

Cc girlhaley creeza Charlesdock lleigh luckymay skarlett jagugu88li iamloyalty beey joseph1832 dare2try yemike

      The crowd at the Harvest Festival in the Hilliard Municipal Park had grown.  As the day progressed, more and more people found their way to the heart of Hilliard to celebrate Halloween.      An older man walked side-by-side with his granddaughter, holding her hand tight.  They walked through a crowd of kids fighting with their fake weapons and up to an apple cider stand

"Do you want a small one, sweetie?” the old man asked the girl.  She nodded and smiled, showing off her teeth, which were stained blue from cotton candy. “Two small ciders, please,” the man told the young lady behind in the booth.   “Grandpa, what kind of costume is that?” the little girl asked, tugging on her grandfathers track jacket.   “Where, sweetie?” he asked, looking in the direction she was pointing.  She was pointing at one of the ponds off the right, just beyond the festival barriers.  He squinted to try and get a better look.  Someone was wading through the pond towards the shore.  “I don‟t know, but he‟s going to get in trouble – you‟re not allowed to be in that water.” They watched as the person slowly walked out of the water and, little by little, made his way into the grass.  It appeared to be a young man, but in heavy Halloween make up.  The skin on his face appeared to be deteriorated and hanging off the bone.  His clothes were brown and tattered.  The skin on his arms was dark green and dripping off the bone as well.  It was a disgusting costume… The old man put his hand out to keep his granddaughter behind him.  “Something‟s not right with him sweetie.  Stay here by the booth.” The old man made his way through a group of festivalgoer‟s and walked towards the boy coming out of the pond.

 The boys‟ clothing was soaked and muddy.  The closer the old man got, the more unnerving things became.      “Young man, you must have spent a lot of time on that costume,” he nervously laughed as he approached the boy.  “You‟re scaring some of the little ones over here.”      The old man came face to face with the boy and immediately noticed his eyes balls had vanished into a pair of deep, shadowed eye sockets.  The boy opened his mouth and a steady stream of muddy water gurgled out and spilled into the grass.      The old man stepped back and the young man collapsed and crashed into the ground, making a loud, wet „squishing‟ sound in the grass.  An overwhelming stench from the boys‟ body rose and invaded the old man‟s nose.        He backed up some more and fell backwards.  He put his hand over his mouth and nose and stared at the mysterious and gruesome corpse......
******************************

        It doesn‟t necessarily mean this is some kind of warning, Holly,” Kevin said to his sister as they say next to each other on the couch in her one story home on Wakefield Drive.      “What else could it be?” she asked as she stared at the pumpkin they had picked out sitting on the coffee table in front of them.  It had yet to be touched. A movie played on the TV – something about a killer doll – but it was on mute.        Kevin didn‟t know what to say.  It certainly was weird though – everything that had been going on. The figures in the woods, the cold touch on her neck at Abners, the whispers – and this all just happened to be happening on Halloween?  There wasn‟t much he could say to try to convince her otherwise.      “Do you want to carve the pumpkin?” he asked.      Holly shook her head.  She didn‟t seem to be in the mood anymore.   She looked up at the TV and saw the psycho-doll stab a janitor over and over with a switchblade knife, and she turned her head and winced.  “Can we turn the channel, please?”      Kevin grabbed the remote and turned the channel.  He sat back in the couch and flipped through the channels to find something good.  He flipped right past the news, but a glimpse of Hilliard‟s Harvest Festival caught his eye and he turned it back.

     A young reporter was live from the festival.  She stood in front of police caution tape and spoke directly into her microphone while keeping eye contact the camera.      “It was a shock to everyone who was out at Hilliard‟s Halloween Festival this afternoon – a muddy corpse, of what an eyewitness described as a young man, was discovered in the grass at the Hilliard Municipal Park near one of the parks many ponds.  The boys‟ body was removed from the scene and the festival was shut down.        “There is still no official word from local police as to what happened, but a witness tells us that an older man discovered the body, after believing it was someone dressed in a Halloween costume.”      “My God…” Holly said, disturbed by the breaking news on TV.....


Officers York and Westman sat in their police SUV at the end of the Watkins‟ gravel driveway.  York sipped a coffee; Westman, a hot chocolate.        “What‟s the big deal about this house anyway?” Westman asked...



York swallowed a mouthful of coffee and looked at his partner.  “Long ago, there was a witch named Raven who lived in this area.  Supposedly, before the Watkins family moved in, the witch told one of the construction workers to kill the other members of his team.  Well, he did, and the Watkins‟ moved in as soon as they could, ignoring the murders.” York‟s attention drifted a little as he looked out the passenger window and saw the raven still perched on top of the barn in the back of the house.  He watched as it shook its‟ feather and cocked its‟ head again. The raven lifted itself off the barn and flew to the top of the house, where it sat next to the brick chimney.  York continued, “These roads out here in the country are infamous for strange things.  Unexplained fires burn in the cornfields, strange noises erupt in the night – someone was out here jogging early one morning and swore up and down that something large flew over top of her numerous times before flying away into the darkness.” “Like a bird?” York stared at the raven on the roof.  “Well, if it was, it must have been a pretty big bird.”  He turned his attention back to Westman.  “Most people in Hilliard know the stories and have always tried to connect all the witchcraft to the Watkins family – some people even claim that Elizabeth Watkins is Raven herself.  Who else would move into a house on such violent grounds......


I heard something about a group of kids getting killed here, what, ten years ago?”      “Sort of.  There was a group of students from Darby High School and their teacher here interviewing Elizabeth and Seth about the creepy history.  No one for sure knows what happened, but it‟s understood that Elizabeth and Seth both blacked out, and somewhere in there one of the students hung herself from the chandelier, and the others all dropped dead.”      “How is that possible?”      “There was always the assumption that the Watkins‟ had something to do with it, but medical evidence guaranteed us that five of the kids just dropped dead from heart attacks – they were not murdered.  The only violent death was the girl who hung herself.”      “How could she get up there without anyone seeing her?” Westman inquired.        York shrugged.       “What about the caretaker?”  
   “Valerie was found unconscious in the kitchen.”    
 “Did no one think this situation was suspicious?”    
 “Everyone did.  But it‟s hard to blame them for murder when there is absolutely zero evidence of foul play.  When the case wrapped up, it felt very unfinished – no one was happy about it.........."

This is so horrific


I can't comprehend it yet at all


Who is doing the killings



Something is not right about the state


Hope grandpa didn't die sha??


Greg....more ideas to ur stories

girlhaley:
This is so horrific



I can't comprehend it yet at all



Who is doing the killings




Something is not right about the state



Hope grandpa didn't die sha??



Greg....more ideas to ur stories

Thanks so much sweetheart

Now this revelation about Valerie being unconscious changes the whole thing.

I believe the one that said Raven is Elizabeth or Valerie. I don't wanna rule out Valerie

Our author is an exceptional cook

jagugu88li:
Now this revelation about Valerie being unconscious changes the whole thing.

I believe the one that said Raven is Elizabeth or Valerie. I don't wanna rule out Valerie

Our author is an exceptional cook

Thanks sweetheart......your words strike me with the ferocity of cupid's arrows........ choiiii i'm in rove

Cc girlhaley ashatoda yemike creeza jagugu88li xamster oyinprince Austinblinks mainland mhiz dominique buzzboy supizino empress101 dare2try Reuel12 iamloyalty 


    No one was happy about it.  Elizabeth and Seth became outcasts that everyone looked at with condemning eyes.  We all know they‟re guilty – there‟s just no proof.”      York looked back up at the Watkins residence and noticed the curtain in the upstairs bedroom was pulled back.  He could see Elizabeth sitting in her wheelchair, staring out at them.  She closed the curtains once she saw York look at her.  York then turned his attention to the raven on the roof.  It hopped around on the shingles for a moment before taking flight and flying over the cornfield.      York peered up the side of the house at the barn behind it.  “I‟m going to go have a look in the barn back there.  Stay here.”      “Okay.”      

       York opened the driver‟s door and stepped out of the car.  He zipped his coat up, but before he could shut the car door, Westman grabbed his attention.      “What about Raven?” he asked.      York leaned back into the car.  “What do you mean?”      “What‟s her story?”      “I don‟t know.  It‟s been a while since I‟ve read up on her.  There‟s stuff online if you get bored.”      Westman nodded and York shut the car door.  He walked around the car and made his way up the driveway........
**************************


              Detective James Miller stood in the morgue staring at the decomposing boy‟s body on the cold metal table.  They had removed the clothes from the boy and covered the bottom half of his body with a white sheet.      Miller studied the boy‟s face – it was shredded.  The skin was old and brown with a thick layer of some sort of slime covering it.  The eye sockets were wide and the eyeballs were missing.  Miller could see right into the skull where a mushy brain remained.        The boy‟s skin was deteriorated and the odor was awful.  Miller did all he could to avoid vomiting.        The door to the morgue opened and a middle-aged woman walked in wearing a lab coat.  She wore her hair back in a ponytail and her square-framed glasses sat down on her nose.   She held her clipboard down by her side and smiled at the Detective.      “Good afternoon, I‟m Betty Sims, the senior medical examiner.        Miller shook her hand.  “It‟s nice to meet you.  You took over for Dr. Richards?”      “I did – two months ago.  He retired.”      “He was a good man,
He was my mentor for quite a while.  Everything I‟ve learned, I learned from him.  I‟m pretty quick on my feet when it comes to my job.”      “Then it should be a pleasure working with you.  What can you tell me about this body?” Miller asked.      

         Betty pushed her glasses back up her nose and referenced the clipboard.  She read directly from it.  “Well, a DNA sample would take some time to get here, but I can tell you right now who it is.  I knew this kid.”      Miller was confused.  “Who is it?”      “His name was John Kelly.  My daughter dated him in high school,” Betty said.      Miller knew exactly who that was.  John Kelly was one of the five students who dropped dead at the Watkins‟ home ten years ago.  He didn‟t understand how this could be possible.       “I don‟t understand,” he said.  “How does his body end up out in the open?  Wasn‟t he buried?”      “Cremated actually.  There is no logical reason for his body to be in tact, and laying right here on this table for that matter,” Betty explained.        Miller looked back at the muddy and soggy body.  “This doesn‟t‟ make any sense.”      Miller covered his mouth and nose as another waft of the odor made its‟ way into his senses...........

So, in plain English Raven remodeled the cremation.....to muddy discomposed....then took him to stage the actual Halloween dressing code....before killing him again.

Now I understand.

jagugu88li:
So, in plain English Raven remodeled the cremation.....to muddy discomposed....then took him to stage the actual Halloween dressing code....before killing him again.

Now I understand.

Lolzzzzz yeye wife

Nice work, Greg42.

And, thanks for the mention.

This your story is just killing it gregg but, you should at least improve the update and make it longer.
Thanks for the mention man.

soleski01:
Nice work, Greg42.

And, thanks for the mention.

Yu welcome bruh

Yemike:
This your story is just killing it gregg but, you should at least improve the update and make it longer.
Thanks for the mention man.

No probs my bruh,thanks a lot

Cc khd95 galacious1 drnoel JIYABOI girlhaley jagugu88li Tuhndhay xamster Remiseyi supizino empress101 dare2try Reuel12 iamloyalty divepen1 lleigh oyinprince  cuddlemii 

       Westman sat in his patrol vehicle and searched the Internet on his phone.  He pulled up a screen and spoke to himself quietly as he skimmed the article.  “Her name was Raven…guilty of witchcraft in 1870, a year after Hilliard had been incorporated…residents, confused and scared by her dark practices, attacked her at her home on Halloween night and set her on fire…Raven ran into the cornfields where she burned to death…body never recovered…”      


      Westman looked out the window to see if York was on his way back yet.  There was no sign of him.       Westman stepped out of the car and slipped his phone back into his pocket.  He shut the door and put his hand on his gun holster as he started to make his way up the driveway.      The air was getting colder and the cornstalks rustled as Westman walked along the side of the house.  A loud „kaw‟ caught his attention and he looked up into the sky.  He watched the pitch black raven fly overhead and land on the roof of the barn again.        Westman gulped nervously and moved slowly towards the barn.  The door was open and he could see nothing but blackness inside.  He put his hand on the barn door and peeked his head into the darkness

           "York?” he quietly called out.  There was no answer from inside.   Inside the barn, a creaking sound emerged from the dark.  It sounded like someone walking on a fragile wooden floor.  Westman‟s heart began to beat faster – he could feel it throbbing in his ears.   “York?” he whispered into the barn.  He couldn‟t see anything.  He reached for the flashlight on his belt and flipped it on.  He pointed it into the shadows and moved it along the back wall.  In the small glowing circle of light, he saw hay bails sitting against the wall – one of them with a pitchfork sticking straight out of the top of it.  He continued to slowly move the light across the wall.  There were boxes covered in white sheets, rakes leaning up against the wall, and…a black cauldron.  Westman squinted to make sure he saw it right.  The cauldron was large – maybe five feet across and three to four feet deep.  Something was sticking out of the top of it, but he couldn‟t see what it was.   Westman took a small step into the barn and slowly walked through it, keeping his flashlight focused on the cauldron.  He got close enough and noticed that there was a bloody arm hanging out of it. “What the…” Westman leaned over the cauldron and pointed his light directly inside.


  It was York – his bloody body mangled, twisted and contorted into unnatural knots.  “My God!”  Westman stumbled backwards and dropped his flashlight and the bulb shattered.  He tripped over something behind him and fell flat on his back.  He looked behind him, as his only light source – the partially open barn door – closed and locked on its own.   Westman‟s breathing picked up and he was starting to panic.  “Help me!  Somebody help me!”   He rolled onto his stomach and began to crawl in the direction he had seen the barn doors close.  He reached his arms out, gripped the floor and pulled himself to his knees.  He stood up and looked around.  It was too dark – he didn‟t know which way was up.   He spun around aimlessly in circles, frantically looking for any kind of salvation.  “Help me!” he called out again before being silenced by a whispering “Shh…”  Westman froze and he felt every single hair on his body stand on end.  He began to feel flushed and flu-like.  His beating heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest. The icy touch of a brittle and quivering hand gripped the back of his neck and he screamed.  He started to cry as the ominous grasp tightened.  The fingers started to feel so cold that they burned.  Westman‟s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he could no longer breath.  The last thing he thought of was the stench of his skin melting as the blackness became darker......

#claps once, drops left arm and covers her mouth with the right hand"

Can it get worse?

jagugu88li:
#claps once, drops left arm and covers her mouth with the right hand"

Can it get worse?

Lolzzzzzzz it can oooo

Detective Miller sat in the Hilliard Police Station an hour later with the old man who discovered John‟s body.  They sat together in a small interrogation room.  Miller hit record on a voice recorder and slid it into the center of the table.        “State your name and age,” Miller said.      “George Courtney, 65 years old.”      “Tell me, George, how did you discover the body?”      “We were at the Harvest Festival and I was getting apple cider for my granddaughter and I.  My granddaughter tugged on my shirt and asked me what that man was dressed up as.  I think she was a little frightened by what we thought was a costume.  I saw the man walk out of the pond and I approached him – I could tell something was off with him.  When I made contact with him, a stream of muddy water spewed from his mouth and he collapsed to the ground.”      “Wait…he walked out of the pond?” Miller questioned.      “Yes, sir.  I know there are signs posted that say no swimming, fishing or wading.  I thought he was just out to cause trouble.”      “He walked?” Miller asked again...




George nodded.  “Yes.  Why?”      “Because that boy‟s been dead for ten years.  There‟s no way he could have walked.”      “Detective, I know I‟m getting older,” George laughed, “but I know what I saw.”       Miller didn‟t respond.  There were about a million different thoughts racing through his head – none of them even remotely plausible.        As the afternoon progressed, the clouds over Hilliard started to darken and small rumbles of thunder echoed in the distance.  A cold wind blew through the city, delivering a ghostlike chill.  There was a storm coming


The wind blew though the streets of Hilliard, off of Main Street, and down Wakefield Dr.  The dying trees lining the old neighborhood roads let go of their leaves one by one, and they gently road the breeze down to the ground, collecting along the curbs.      A one-story house, midway down Wakefield Dr., sat quietly.  Inside, Holly and Kevin Gibson remained on the couch.  A kitchen knife sat off to the side of the pumpkin on the coffee table along with a plastic grocery bag for discarding the pumpkins guts, but they had yet to begin carving.      The TV remained on, and they had it back on the horror movie marathon, but neither of them were paying much attention.  Holly was leaning her head back on the sofa cushions and Kevin sat back deep in the couch with his feet propped up on the glass coffee table, scrolling through Facebook on his phone.      The TV flickered a few times, catching Kevin‟s attention, and he looked to his left out the window.  The sky was darkening in the distance and a few light raindrops hit the windows

Kevin looked back at his phone.  The TV flickered again, this time going black for longer periods of time before the picture came back.        Holly leaned over and looked at Kevin‟s phone.  “What time is it?”      “A little after three.  Why?”        “Just wondering,” she said, yawning again

Yomike soleski01 danswatter yemike mhiz girlharkey bummybummy, why are you making me stay all by myself on Halloween Day? Wickedness is ripe, I see

The Raven is coming for Holly and Kevin. That knife on top of the table will curve one of them, trust me

Greg, ah ha come clean bro abeg. Why do I suddenly feel like you know what is happening here?

Forgive my selfishness but, oga gregg this update is kind of short nah.
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On a selfless note, you're trying bro let the good work continue.

jagugu88li:
Yomike soleski01 danswatter yemike mhiz girlharkey bummybummy, why are you making me stay all by myself on Halloween Day? Wickedness is ripe, I see

The Raven is coming for Holly and Kevin. That knife on top of the table will curve one of them, trust me

Greg, ah ha come clean bro abeg. Why do I suddenly feel like you know what is happening here?

Na one of my neighbor the thing do ooooo

Yemike:
Forgive my selfishness but, oga gregg this update is kind of short nah.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
On a selfless note, you're trying bro let the good work continue.

The next one will definitely be longer I promise

jagugu88li:
Yomike soleski01 danswatter yemike mhiz girlharkey bummybummy, why are you making me stay all by myself on Halloween Day? Wickedness is ripe, I see

The Raven is coming for Holly and Kevin. That knife on top of the table will curve one of them, trust me

Greg, ah ha come clean bro abeg. Why do I suddenly feel like you know what is happening here?

.
.
.
Stay all by yourself ke?
I dey your back just like reccession stand gidigba for Nigeria economy's back.

jagugu88li:
Yomike soleski01 danswatter yemike mhiz girlharkey bummybummy, why are you making me stay all by myself on Halloween Day? Wickedness is ripe, I see

The Raven is coming for Holly and Kevin. That knife on top of the table will curve one of them, trust me

Greg, ah ha come clean bro abeg. Why do I suddenly feel like you know what is happening here?

i kuku dey wit u in spirit, na my body jst comot but i dnt com bck nw

you want make i bring soldiers before you come update abi?

Yemike:
you want make i bring soldiers before you come update abi?

See am dey drop nau. Nau

Cc girlhaley creeza ashatoda Tuhndhay horlorlardaey remiseyi alexblazzzer18 xamster yemike lleigh luckymay skarlett 



           Detective Miller sat in his office at the police station.  He was staring at John Kelly‟s high school picture on the computer.  There were enough similarities from the picture that reflected the muddy corpse at the park.  It was definitely him, but how?        Miller minimized the window on his screen and clicked into the next file.  He selected all the photos in the file and opened them.  Pictures of the other kids and teacher that died on that Halloween popped up – Ava, Mason, Melissa and Corey.  Miller studied their faces and then reached for a folder on his desk.      The phone at his desk rang.  He glanced at the caller ID.  It said: Watkins – Hilliard.  He quickly picked up the phone.      “This is Detective Miller,” he said.  There was slight static on the other line.  “Ms. Watkins?”  The static would get louder and then subside to silence.  “Elizabeth?” The static returned loudly and squealed.  Miller pulled the phone away from his ear and cringed.      

          He could still hear the static as he slowly put the receiver back up to his ear.  “Ms. Watkins, can you hear me?”      With a click on the other line, the call was ended.  Miller was confused.  There must have been some bad interference somehow.  But Ms. Watkins must have needed something – or had information.  Who knew, maybe she was even going to confess.      Miller stood up and put on his long coat and fedora that hung on the wall.  He grabbed his car keys from off the desk and left his office.....


         Holly dozed off on the couch and startled herself awake to the sound of a woman screaming.  She sat up fast and looked around – Kevin was gone.      The woman screamed again and Holly looked at the TV – another scary movie was on and a woman was screaming as she was forced into the corner of a room by the undead.  Holly took a deep breath....


           "Kevin?” she called out.  She looked on the coffee table and the pumpkin was still sitting there untouched.  The kitchen knife that was beside it, however, was gone.      “Kevin?” she called out again, slightly more tense.  She turned around and saw Kevin coming out of the kitchen with his mouth full of a half-eaten cookie that was in his hand.  Holly put her hand to her chest and caught her breath.  “You scared me.  What are you doing?”      “I was cleaning up,” Kevin said, still chewing.  He swallowed hard and continued: “I put the knife away.  I figured we probably weren‟t going to be carving the pumpkin.”      Kevin sat down next to her on the couch.  “I was thinking I might head back to my apartment in a bit.”      “Why?” Holly whined.      “Well, first of all, you‟re exhausted.  If I leave, you can get some rest.  Secondly,” Kevin began, and right on cue, a loud crack of thunder shook the house, “…that.  If I stay any longer, I‟ll get caught in the storm.”      Holly understandably nodded in agreement.  “Okay.  You want to do breakfast tomorrow?”      “Sure,” Kevin smiled.        The TV flickered again, and shut off completely this time along with all the lamps.  Even the ceiling fan lost power and slowed to a stop.  


         They both looked around, waiting for everything to come back on.  Nothing did. A strong gust of wind blew through the neighborhood and rattled the pictures hanging on the wall.  A quick flash of lightening lit up the now dim room.   “Don‟t leave yet,” Holly whimpered.  Kevin nodded, slightly intimidated himself.   “We‟ll need some candles,” Kevin said. “They‟re in my bedroom, I‟ll be right back.”  Holly stood up and walked off towards her bedroom on the other side of the house.  Kevin pulled his phone out of his pocket and double-tapped the screen to turn it on.  The screen remained black.  He tried again with the same baffling results.   Holly walked through the doorway and into her bedroom.  She shuffled straight to the nightstand by the side of her bed and pulled the drawer open.  The room began to darken as the storm drew closer.  She fished around, blindly, in the drawer for the candles and matches.   A strobing series of lightening flashes lit up the room and Holly jumped back and screamed in fear as she saw a dark decrepit hand reaching for her face. The series of lightening bolts came to a stop and left the room in ominous shadows.  Holly stood up against her closet door with her hand over her mouth, staring at her bed – the hand came from a dark figure laying on it. 

         “Are you okay?” Kevin called out from the living room.  Thunder roared outside and Holly caught her breath.  “No…” she said back, her voice shaking in dread.  She kept her attention on the bed – something didn‟t seem right. There‟s no way she could have imagined that. She took a couple small vigilant steps back towards the bed.  A quiet gurgling sound coming from the bed made her stop.  She stared into the shadows and the thunder crashed again and another series of flashes illuminated the room. A rotting corpse lay on her bed, with its arm reaching out for her.  Holly screamed again and backed into the closet door again.  The flesh on the carcass was falling off the bone and murky water gurgled out of its mouth.  The long straggly brown hair on its head made it obvious it was a girl, and the right half of a broken-heart necklace around her neck made it obvious who it was – Ava. “Ava! Oh my God!” Holly covered her mouth again and ran out of the room.  Kevin met up with her in the hallway and grabbed her. “What‟s wrong? What‟s wrong?” he frantically asked. “It‟s Ava!  She‟s on my bed

Present

Lleigh:
Present

You welcome

Raven doing what she know best


John,Ava....


York is dead......



This city is indeed cursed.....
Greg.....pls we need update ASAP

girlhaley:
Raven doing what she know best



John,Ava....



York is dead......




This city is indeed cursed.....

Greg.....pls we need update ASAP

I see you dear

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   Kevin dashed into the bedroom and immediately heard the gurgling sound. A couple quick flashes of light lit up the room and Kevin saw the body.  He backed out into the hallway.      “Who is that?” Kevin screamed.      “It‟s Ava!”      “It can‟t be!  She‟s dead and buried!”      “It‟s her!  Call the police!”      “My phone isn‟t working, give me yours!”      Holly fumbled in her pockets and pulled out her phone and handed it to her brother.  Kevin pressed the buttons on the side and tapped the screen, but her phone didn‟t work either.       “We have to go to the neighbors, Holly.  C‟mon!”      

       Kevin grabbed his sister by the hand and they ran down the hall and out the front door of the house.      The wind was gusting, blowing dead leaves violently across the yard.  Kevin pulled his sister up the porch to the neighbor‟s house and pounded on the door.  He waited a moment but no one answered.      A crack of thunder shook the earth and rain began to pour from the sky.  Kevin and Holly were instantly soaked to the bone.  Kevin looked at his car sitting along the side of the road and he felt for his keys in his pocket.      “C‟mon!” he yelled over the hard-falling rain, and drug Holly back across the yard by her hand.  They climbed into his car and he started the engine and took off down the street.      

    Kevin turned onto Main St. and followed the roundabout straight through onto Scioto Darby Rd.      “Where are you going?” Holly screamed.  “The police department is back that way!”      Kevin had a concentrated look of hostility on his face.  He snarled behind the wheel and he stared through the frantic windshield wipers and watched the road.  “We‟re going to the Watkins house.  She‟s the only one who can explain this.”      Holly sat back in the passenger seat and looked out the window.  She took notice on how dark the storm was making it.  It was almost like nighttime.  She looked down at the clock on the radio, but it was flashing all zeros.        “What time is it?” she asked.      Kevin first looked to the radio, but once he saw it wasn‟t working, he glanced at his watch.  “It‟s a little after three.”      “It was a little after three earlier when I asked you.”      Kevin looked at his watch again.  “The battery must have died.  I don‟t know what time it is.”      The car splashed down the puddle-riddled road and they came up fast on another car.  They were nearing Amity Rd. when the car in front of them put their brake lights on and came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road...