The Mansion on Maple
Something’s out there…and it’s calling my name.
Someone was getting into the Halloween spirit a little early.
A tall, rickety building sat on the corner of Maple and Waverly Street. Looked like an old-fashioned haunted house, complete with boarded-up windows, rotting wood, and an intricate cast-iron gate.
I pulled my scarf and coat tighter against the October chill. When fall came, it rushed in like a lion, shedding the trees of their cover and bringing the first crisp days of autumn.
I was on my way home from work, and finally — I’d gotten my first paycheck from the job I’d just started a few weeks ago. First paycheck since moving to the small town of Ember Valley, and I was just ready to deposit it and head home.
Something about that house though…
I shook my head.
And why wouldn’t Ember Valley have an aging Victorian mansion? The whole town seemed to traffic in old and mysterious. Old being the operative word.
God, I needed to get out of here.
Once I got a little money, I could pack my bags and be on my way again. But for now, I had to stick it out.
A gust of wind surged toward me from the south and caught me off guard. The check in my hand tore…
