1 Chapter 1

1: The Halloween Horror Club

Even if all the horrible things that had happened there had never occurred, the house would still look scary. There were solid things one could point to and say: “That’s what makes this house look forbidding.” Things like the dirty white paint, most of which had cracked and fallen away revealing gray and rotting wood beneath. Windows, little more than empty eye sockets, offered glimpses of the darkness within, their glass panes long ago succumbing to the wiles of vandals. Pine and maple trees grew riotously around the house, closing in on it. The steps leading up to the front porch sagged and looked as if the slightest pressure would crumble them to bits.

The house’s placement, where the woods met the end of Acton Road, gave it a feeling of separateness. Asif the house waited at the threshold to the woods, looking for an opportunity to suck in the innocent, to make them disappear into its darkness.

Not many people ventured near the house on Acton Road. Most folks in the Ohio River town of Summitville,Pennsylvania no longer recalled what had occurred in the house fifteen years before. The murders had caused a sensation at the time, but the crimes faded into obscurity, much as the house—once neatly kept and inhabited—faded into rot and disrepair.

* * * *

Not everyone in Summitville had forgotten the house. Over the years, groups of teenagers had proven their mettle by entering it, searching for bloody handprints on the walls or the chalk outline of a body. One or two had been brave enough—or foolhardy enough—to wander deeper inside, to test the creaking floorboards. These fearless souls would often run outside, screaming and laughing, and reportback to those less courageous who lurked in the shadows. They’d claim to hear a voice telling them to get out, or that they saw a shadow pass along a wall, or simply felt a presence there, watching.

Peter, Marlene, David, Roy, and Erin had more of a mission than to merely cross the threshold of the house to see what was inside. The group of five, all eighth graders who had known each other since they were little, had formed a horror club, and had selected the Tuttle house as their meeting place.

The fact that they would pick the crumbling structure was not surprising. They had grown up in the same neighborhood on the hillside not far from the infamous place. They, too, had heard the stories of weird lights flickering on and off in a structure that had long ago seen the exit of electricity, and the tales of people who had gone inside, never to return. Now, it was time to check out the situation for themselves.

The five friends were prepared for the challenge. After all, this wasn’t their first club. Over the years, they had formed various such organizations among themselves, each one giving the kids an excuse to set up specific times when they knew they would see one another. Maybe more importantly, the meetings gave them something to look forward to.

Peter had been the first to come up with the idea when they were all seven. “How about a Liar’s Club?”he had proposed one August afternoon when the air was thick with humidity and the buzz of flies and cicadas. The others were learning the benefits of falsehood and how a cleverly thought-out fib could save them from trouble with their parents. But the idea of lying just for the sake of lying had an odd appeal, and the group decided to try it. The rules were simple. Each member was required to tell lies to his or her family. Whoever got away with the biggest whopper was the champion.

That club didn’t last long—only part of the summer—probably due to guilt and the group’s limited talents in the field of falsehood.

Other attempts, like a forestry club, various fan clubs, and even a Society for the Advancement of Endangered and Stray Pets (the group’s parents particularly disliked this one), formed and disbanded over the years, accomplishing little more than cementing the friendship among the five. Indeed, the group formed a relationship that weathered the storms of childhood accusations, petty jealousies, and “new” friends whose companionship faded with the passage of time. But one question always remained: could the group continue to come up with new club ideas to further tighten their bond in the months and years ahead?

Late one afternoon in September, not long after school had resumed at East End Junior High, and with Halloween looming on the horizon, the group got together after classes in Erin’s basement. They were clustered around Erin’s desktop computer, surfing the internet, looking for a site where they could download free episodes of Lost when Peter blurted out his latest idea.