FSE

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Sam was an ordinary, unassuming teenage boy; five foot four, brown hair, green eyes, and a bellow average dress sense. The only place he'd known as home was his parent's farm in a quiet out of the way hamlet. Visits to towns were rare and to the city even rarer, leaving him growing up in the near solitude of rural life. Spending his youth so alone had left Sam wanting of attention and desperate to fit in; causing him to be particularly susceptible to dares. His classmates at the local, twenty pupil school house knew this all too well and often set him ridiculous tasks to complete; which he accepted gladly in return for their favor. There was one kid though, David, who was particularly malicious. He hadn't been in Sam's tutor group for long, but had quickly made his mark. Moving to the hamlet from the city meant he was made of sterner, crueler stuff than the other, more insular children. David was a horrendous bully, and the other boys flocked to his side in the hope of immunity. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work; anyone and everyone were pray to his cruel jokes, Sam just happened to be his favorite.

Tomorrow was Halloween, and to keep in the spirit of the event David was desperately thinking of a suitable dare. It had to be good; something that would terrify Sam. Something that would have him wake up screaming every night for months. Something he'd remember all his life. Something like, The Hall.....

The Hall was your typical haunted mansion which had been built on a small, man made hill to ram home the eerie effect. The owner was a recluse millionaire, who'd invested his money into the land around The Hall; turning it into a thriving farming community. He was found shot dead nearly a century ago, long before any of the current owners had bought their farms. The only suspect was a stranger who had arrived in the area only the night before, but had disappeared by the next morning. Fortunately, he had recently made a will; leaving all his land around The Hall to the people who farmed it. As a sign of respect the residents called the newly formed hamlet Hallham. The Hall itself was left to fall into disrepair, no one willing to take on the responsibility of maintaining the building, but yet, the community too familiar with the sight of it to pull it down. Eventually, as the decades passed, stories were born over the fate of its owner, and the possibility of his spirit still roaming the corridors.

"Samuel," David called with a grating, sarcastically-seductive tone. Sam hated David using his proper name, but daren't show it. "Oh Samuel." David repeated slightly louder, but still in the same manner. Sam ignored him in the vain hope that he might just get lost. "Oi wanker!" David shouted. It was definitely a vain hope. Sam turned to face David, who was walking directly over to him. "You know what day it is tomorrow don't you?" David asked rhetorically, "The night for jokes and pranks. For fun and laughter; for both the living.... and the dead!"

"Or, to put it less dramatically; it's Halloween tomorrow." a voice said. Sam turned to where it came from and saw Scott, another of his few classmates.

Scott was the only true friend Sam had; the others would gladly stab him in the back if David asked them to, or just if it would gave them a laugh. Scott's loathing for David was just as strong as Sam's, although fortunately for him, he had few faults that David could exploit, and thus was rarely the butt of his jokes.

"Come now Scotty, if you can't be dramatic about the night of fear, then when can you?" David replied in an increasingly over-the-top fashion.

"What's your point?" Sam asked quickly.

"Well, as I said; it's a night for fun and fear, and I was just thinking that we might be able to get a shot of both if we went to visit The Hall...."

"You've gotta be joking!" Scott cried, "don't even think about it Sam!"

"What's wrong, afraid that the ghosts'll get him?"

"Fuck the ghosts! The place must be a death trap by now. I'm surprised it's still standing."

"Well, no one invited you, so you could just stay safely tucked up in your bed, while Sammy here and me have some fun. C'mon Sam I dare ya!" That was all Sam needed; it was like a switch was suddenly flicked inside him, from caution to bravado. It was a dare; he had to do it, or face endless derision from his tutor group. After all, there are no such things as ghosts are there?

"You're on!" Sam answered.

"I'll meet you at the gates at 9 o'clock, be there or be a tosser!"

"Fine, I'll see you there."

David sharply turned on his heels and walked away cackling loudly.

"I don't believe you." Scott said disbelievingly, "You know very well that he's going to do something, but yet you agree. God only knows what he's got planned!"

"He dared me, I have to accept, or I'll never live it down. Anyway, what can he do to me? Shout boo a couple times. Not particularly terrifying."

"Yes, well, I think I'll join you none the less."

"If you want."

"I do, I do. I don't trust him one bit. You might need a bit of backup."

The large Iron Gate creaked as the stiff autumn breeze forced it to rock ever so slightly on it's heavily rusted hinges. Five figures slowly approached the rusty barrier; two from one direction, the other three from the opposite.

"Who are they?" Sam shouted to the trio. As one the three removed the Halloween masks they were wearing to reveal David and his two heads flunkeys, Philip and Carl.

"What are they doing here?" Scott asked.

"Well, I thought I'd ask around a bit and see if anyone else wanted to join us. These two volunteered to offer us company." David replied slapping Phil and Carl on the back.

"Well, I'm glad I came along; at least two against three's better odds than being on your own." Scott whispered to Sam under his breath.

"Shall we enter?" David gestured towards the gate.

Using all their combined strength, Sam and Scott were just able to open the gate sufficiently for them to squeeze through, Philip and Carl quickly followed, then David. The driveway up to the mansion was long and incredibly overgrown.

"We ain't never going to get through there." Philip said. David looked at him sternly and he sank back.

"He's right though, we'll get ripped to threads trying to walk up there." Scott added.

"There's always away isn't there Sam?" David said smiling. Sam quickly looked around and found a large stick lying on the ground. He picked it up and hit it lightly against a nearby tree. He looked back up to see David grinning from ear to ear and Scott looking quite disapprovingly. Sam then walked up to the wall of brambles in front of the group and proceeded to hack away at it. The thorny stems were thick and entwined so it was hard going, but he gradually cut a path through. Scott followed close behind Sam, being careful not to get hit by the stick as he thrashed wildly.

"You could have just turned back you know. There wasn't an obvious way through. You wouldn't have backed down; you could have said that the dare was undoable." Scott said only just loud enough for Sam to hear.

"I couldn't do that. The dare obviously is doable, and David knew it. Anyway, aren't you the least bit curious what it's like up there? See if any of those rumors are true?" Sam replied.

"Yeah, well, the sooner we get this over and done with the better. It was bad enough with just David here, let alone his stooges. He's up to something back there."

Sam soon got tired so Scott begrudgingly took over. Scott was quite a bit stronger and fitter than Sam, so had less trouble hacking his way through the tangle; speeding up their arrival to the front of the house. No one had been this close to the house since its owner died, but now that they were, the boys could see the delicate detail of the bestial, solid stone statues guarding the steps and the carvings on the walls and huge oak door. The place was more like a work of art than a building; how it had survived for so long in such good condition was against the odds.

The group carefully walked up the steps; trying not to step on any of the cracked, loose stones, for fear of literally breaking their backs. When they got to the top Carl tried the normal sized door which was set within the left-hand bigger, main one. He turned the knob squeakily and pushed sharply. It didn't budge-it's hinges must have seized. He quickly gave the door another shove, but still it didn't move.

"Give us an 'and then." Carl called to the rest. The group sighed and tutted but joined him in front of the door.

"Right. On the count of three." David cried, "One.... Two.... Three!" all five of them pushed together as hard as they could. Suddenly there was a large crack and a groan as the lock of the main doors broke and they swung open. The boys flew through the doorway after them and landed in a big heap on the floor. Fighting his way out of the pile of bodies, Scott looked up into the hall, coughing from the dust that had been disturbed. Wooden boards covering the windows stopped any of the light from the full moon outside entering into the room; making it pitch black. Despite this though, he could tell that it was big. There was an air, a feel to the room that belied it's size. As the other lads got up and tried to regain their composure as best as possible, Scott grabbed his torch and turned it on.

"Now there's a bit of foresight." Smirked David as he brushed the dust off of his clothes.

"What, you thought the lights would still work?" Replied Scott.

"Maybe." David walked over to one side of the doorway and flicked a switch. The room was briefly illuminated, then there was a crackle and a small bang as the light went out. "Well, it was worth a try." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small penlight. "But I do plan for any problems." David turned its end and it lit up. "Although it appears as though we're the only ones." David looked at the other three disappointedly.

Scott shone his torch into the room. He immediately came across the stairs, which flowed strait up the centre. He followed the thick wooden banisters to find that the stairs split a little way up. One set went to the right, while the others went left, wrapping themselves round a tall statue, similar to the pair outside on the steps. It was difficult to tell whether it was supposed to be a man with animal features, or animal with a man's. It's face was contorted into a wide mouthed snarl, it's long sharp teeth born to all who entered, or what was left of them; as one had succumbed to time and fallen off, leaving a large round hole in the staircase in front of it. The rest of the head remained animal like, maybe that of a canid, but the carved fur pattern finished in a thick mane around the neck, turning instead into the smooth chest of a well muscled man. Apart from it's upright stance, that was the only recognizable features of a human; the fur starting again at the figure's waist and wrists. The paw like hands were held close to its muzzle, claws bared, as if ready to pounce on anyone who walked through the doors. Sam pulled a face as he looked at the animal like features, "Who'd want something like that inside their house?"

"Maybe it's the security." Phillip said, looking slightly pleased with himself. Everyone looked at him blankly. "You know, like a guard dog, or sommin....." Phillip trailed off as he tried to explain.

"You go first Scott." David said gesturing towards the stairs with his torch.

"What?" Scott quickly replied.

"You've got the biggest torch; it'll be easier for you to lead the way. I'll stay at the back and make sure no one wonders off." Scott sighed and grudgingly gave into the logic.

Scott gingerly made his way up the stairs; closely followed by Sam, then Carl and Philip, with David bringing up the rear. Barely halfway up there was a loud crack and a yelp from Carl. Scott and Sam spun round to see Philip holding onto Carl, whose leg had gone through one of the rotten, wooden steps. Sam grabbed Carl's other arm and helped him up.

"I told you this place was dangerous!" Scott called to David.

"Well you'll just have to be more careful where you lead us then won't you." David replied sternly. Scott scowled back.

"Come on Scott. The sooner we get this over with the better." Sam said turning Scott around.

"Yes Scott. After all; that was just the excitement that I promised." David said with that annoying smirk on his face.

The rest of the stairs were taken even more carefully, as Scott made sure that there wasn't any sign of give where he stepped. At the split Scott decided to go up the left-hand set of stairs as the other already had several, regular holes in them. It made him wonder if they really are the first people to have been in here, or if there was someone, or something waiting for them at the top.

Finally they reached the landing and they all let out a collective sigh of relief, even David seemed slightly relieved at making it in one piece. Three hallways lay in front of the boys, arranged in a customary left, middle and right configuration; each leading to a different wing of the large house.

"Where now then?" Scott asked David.

He thought briefly, then shone his torch down the hallway to their left. "Just walk down to the end of the corridor. I'll tell you where then." Scott did as told and started walking towards the boarded up window in front of him. Suddenly Sam grabbed Scott's shoulder, holding him back from going any further.

"Whoa there!" Sam said quickly.

"What?" Scott asked, trying hard to control his heart; so as not make it obvious to the group that Sam's sudden action had given him quite a fright. Sam picked up a large piece of fallen masonry and threw it onto the floor in front of Scott. It landed with a light flumph.

"What on earth?" Scott said curiously. He bent down to pick it up, but before he could, it started to sink. The boys watched as the end of the decaying carpet was pulled into a large hole. Scott turned round to face David.

"Yes I know!" he said quickly, before Scott could say anything. "Let's just get this done shall we?"

One by one they all carefully edged round the hole, then regrouped and made it to the end of the corridor with no more problems. There they found another, shorter corridor, which turned off to the right and had a large, arched window at the end of it. This window was blocked just like all the others; however, one of the boards at the top had slipped down letting the light from the full moon shine directly onto the base of the opposite wall. Sam instinctively followed the shaft of light and looked at the wall. Hanging from it was a huge painting, so large it covered the entirety of the wall. It was of a man in some sort of uniform. Sam assumed the guy must have been in the forces as one side of his jacket contained several silver and golden medals.

"That was the owner." David said noticing Sam looking at the painting, "He was a Major in the army. He'd traveled the world until he settled here. Vain bastard wasn't he."

"What?" Sam asked still looking at the picture.

"Well his bedroom's just here." David replied pointing at one of the two doors on that corridor. "He would have seen himself as soon as he walked out of his room, every morning."

"No different to looking in the mirror as soon as you get up." Scott said. "Which in your case is as soon as you open your eyes I bet?"

"Funny boy!" David said sarcastically. The group entered the owner's room, except for Sam who was still looking at the painting. It looked so realistic in the moonlight, almost like it was a photograph. The eyes.... he knew some paintings seem to follow you around, but these looked real, penetrating...cold.

"Sam." Scott called. He didn't respond.

"Oi, Dick Head!" David yelled from the doorway, "Stop falling in love and get in here." Sam snapped out of it and shook his head.

"Yeah, coming." He replied.

The bedroom was still elaborately decorated; underneath all the dust. The wallpaper was incredibly delicate and covered with swirls of gold and red on a darker red background. The bed, which was in the centre of one of the walls, was an enormous, carved four-poster; on each corner was some sort of dog's head, but in semi-human, gargoyle form. Opposite the bed was an ornate dresser, with more gold on it than any of the boys had ever seen. The rim of the mirror and table, the handles for each draw and the several ornaments and accessories were all at the very least plated, if not solid gold.

Sam whistled in amazement. "Whoa!" he added.

"Quite." David said in agreement. "The very room that he died in. Shot exactly nine times."

"How the hell do you know that?" Scott asked.

"I've done my research. Even got a look at the crime report."

"You don't think that's going a bit far for research?" Scott asked worriedly.

"I just thought it would help the mood. You know, entering the room of death!"

"I'm surprised everything's still here." Scott said opening one of the draws to find an ivory handled toothbrush.

"Nothing's been touched since he died."

"And why not?"

"The ghost! No one dare come near the house. It was spooky enough while he was alive, but after he died, the people in the village at that time were petrified of coming in here, even for all this gold"

"Well, the ghost hasn't made its appearance yet. However, now that we have, the dare's been done and it's time to leave."

"But we've only just got here. I thought we might make a night of it, perhaps stay here till morning."

"With you three here! I don't think so! God only knows what you've got up your sleeves."

"I'll tell you what then; you two stay here the night and we'll leave. No problem of funny stuff then. What do you say Sam?"

"I don't know, it's a bit draughty." Sam replied.

"Is that all? You sure that's it? Not that you're scared?" David said mockingly, "Come on, I dare you." Scott didn't hide his disapproval; tutting loudly.

"Okay." Sam said quietly. Scott walked away shaking his head. "Aw, don't be like that Scott." he said following him, "You know I've got to accept...."

"Yeah! You HAVE to accept don't you! Sam, listen to me: this whole thing has most probably been set up. He must have something planned!"

"But it's a dare...."

"You can't go through life doing everything anyone wants you to because they say it's a dare! I'm sorry Sam, but you're on your own this time. I'll tell my mum that you couldn't stay over; hopefully your mum will think that you're at mine and no one'll be the wiser." Scott handed his torch to Sam, "You'd best take this."

"Thanks."

"Good luck, you'll need it."

"Come on then, let's leave the brave little man to his quest." David said walking out the door. The other three followed and Scott made a small wave as he left. Sam heard them walking down the wooden corridor and then slowly down the creaking steps. Then there was a loud groan as they shut the front door behind them. He was alone; he hoped it would stay that way.

Sam spent a little while looking around the room; starting with the sizeable wardrobe, which was occupied most of the wall perpendicular to the room's door. He ran his hands over its lacquered surface, enjoying the smooth, surprisingly unblemished feel, before pulling the hefty door open with a long, deep creak. It was filled mostly with smart, if somewhat elaborate, suits; now full of holes from the years of moth larvae eating away at them. At one end was a collection of military suits, like the one he wore in the picture, while at the other, were half a dozen much older looking garments. Their frilly, laced sleeves and collars made them look more like fancy dress costumes than clothes someone would wear normally. The hanging garments in between appeared to be a collection of dark coloured, stuffy suits. His curiosity with the wardrobe satisfied, Sam carefully closed the door again and continued round the room. He drew a little smiley face in the dust on the bedside table before taking a look in it's draw. There was nothing of interest in there, so slumped down on the bed. It was still impressively comfortable, in spite of it's age and the small plumes of dust that erupted off it's surface whenever Sam moved. 'Perhaps this might not be so bad.' He thought to himself as he rolled over and off the opposite edge, landing deftly on his feet.

The last thing left in the room was the dressing table. On closer inspection the grand design of the piece of furniture was marred by the woodworm that infested it. Sam tried all the draws, skipping the one Scott had opened earlier. One of the them, the largest, was either stuck or locked. He tugged harder and it came out with a crack and splinter of wood. 'Apparently it was locked.' Sam thought to himself as a stroked his fingers over the metal bolt that was jutting from the rim. The draw contained lots of books; all leather bound, with heavily faded gilded writing on the front. With some heavy squinting Sam was just able to make it out; they were diaries, but there was loads of them, too many to count. There was a date still on the cover of one: 1817? 'How old was this guy when he died?' Sam thought to himself. Picking a book at random, he opened one up and attempted to read it, which was easier said than done, as although the writing was very neat, it was also somewhat akin to a series of spiders running across the page. After a while, Sam got used to the author's handwriting style and was able to slowly translate the entries. It was amazing; this particular diary seemed to have been written during the start of the first world war. It detailed some of the early movements of the British armed forces, apparently under his command. Sam was never a big fan of history, but this was written with such a flair, that it had him captivated.

Sam lost track of time and was only broken from his engrossment by a loud creak from behind him, through the doorway. He turned around quickly. There was no one there. Then there was another one; it came from the next room. Sam's heart raced.

"David?" Sam called quietly, "Da-avid!" he called louder. "I know it's you. I'm not falling for it!" There was silence. Sam turned back round listening closely for any more noises. Still there was silence. 'Perhaps it was just a mouse,' Sam thought to himself, 'although that's not necessarily a good thing!' Sam tried going back to reading the passage he was on. Suddenly there was a crash from next door. Sam jumped up quickly; almost throwing the diary across the room. That was definitely no mouse! Sam ran to the doorway and looked out into the corridor. He couldn't see anyone-or anything. He carefully walked the distance between the two doors and peered round into the room. This room was decorated almost identically to the other; the main difference being the position of the furniture. Just then, there was another creak. Sam jumped slightly as his heart pounded even harder, sounding as if was in his ears. Best as he could tell the noise appeared to be coming from behind the bed, which was opposite him. Sam cautiously walked over and stood at one corner of it; trying desperately to control his thumping heart. He gingerly peered over the edge as he felt sweat begin to appear all over his body. Sam reeled back in shock as a cloaked figure suddenly rose up from beside the bed and looked directly at him. Its face was horrible-it was completely rotten with bits of dead flesh hanging off its visible bone structure.

"OOOHHH SHIT!!" Sam called as he stumbled backwards, "Oh shit, oh shit." he turned and headed for the door as fast as he could. "Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" he repeated. Just as he reached the doorway, something large and white dropped over the opening. Sam had no choice but to run through it, causing it to wrap tightly around his whole body like another layer of skin. It clung around his legs, restricting their movement, tripping him over after only a few steps. He landed hard against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, struggling maniacally to get the covering off. As he pulled it from around his head Sam saw the monster quickly approaching him through the doorway, brandishing a blood stained knife. Sam struggled harder to free himself, but only succeeded in tightening the cocoon. The zombie like creature raised its knife ready to bring it down upon the panicking boy. Sam let out a strange cross between a scream and a yell as the knife fell.

Suddenly there was a roar of laughter. Sam opened his eyes to find the figure rolling around on the floor laughing in hysterics. Then, he realised that he recognised that laugh-a laugh he had heard countless times at school, a laugh that made him sick to the pit of the stomach. It was David's! Suddenly it hit him.

"YOU BASTARD!!!!" Sam yelled as loud as he could.

"I'm sorry," David said in-between much needed breaths "That scream thing was too much; I couldn't hold a straight face any longer. Go on-do it again."

"PISS OFF!" Sam replied as Carl and Philip emerged from the darkness behind David, obviously just as entertained. "Scott was right, you have planned this all haven't you!"

"Of course. What kind of host would I be if I'd let this trip stay as boring as it would have been? And you're just oh so predictable my dear Samual. You realy do make it too easy." David pulled at his face, sloughing off it's latex covering. "This stuff's great, even had Phillip there cowering in his boots while I was putting it on." he added, holding the mask in front of himself for a moment, before throwing it onto the floor in front of Sam. "Here, you have it. Keep it as a memento." David gestured at Carl and Phillip, "Lets get out or here. I'll see you Sam, at school, Monday. I can't wait to let everyone hear about this." Sam gave no reply as David stepped over him, followed by his two stooges. The three of them walked down the corridor cackling like a pack of hyenas.

Sam sat back against the wall slowly removing the sweat soaked covering he was still wrapped in, or at least he hoped it was only sweat. Now that he was calm, it was considerably easier to disentangle his arms and legs, and with a chance to look at it, he realized what had been so terrifyingly incapacitating, was nothing more than a bed sheet. When he had freed himself he knelt in the middle of the corridor looking up towards the painting. A tear of fury welled in his eye, then ran down his cheek. The moon had moved so that it was shining directly on the picture's face, illuminating it like it was day. Sam's anger boiled as he stared directly into the owner's eyes, which stared back like before. Sam's anger grew into a rage as he now scowled at the picture, teeth clenched, hands balled into fists, his thoughts sliding to ones of vengeance. As Sam stared harder and harder, the outline of the owner's face seemed to start shimmering in the moonlight. The stern frown-like expression on its face appeared to mellow, until it looked to be more of a smile. As Sam knelt transfixed he suddenly felt a great weight fall upon his back and an intense pain shot through his body. He yelled uncontrollably as he blacked out.

The small slits of light that managed to creep between the boards over the windows were highlighted by the dust that had been disturbed by the previous night's excitement. The large entrance hall was a deceptively serine scene. Suddenly the large oak doors flew open and Scott ran in with a very worried look on his face.

"SAM!" Scott called, "Sam where are you?" He started to run up the stairs, but the sight of the hole created by Carl last night caused him to stop after just a couple of steps. "SAM!" he called again, even louder.

"Sc-Scott." Came a faint reply.

"Sam, is that you?" Sam appeared at the top of the stairs; his clothes ripped and torn-all but destroyed, revealing a patterning of bright red scratches all over his body. He wearily clambered down the stairs, the tattered shreds of his clothes swaying as he took each step. "What the hell happened?" Scott asked, forgetting the risk and quickly moving to help Sam.

"I....I don't know." Sam replied looking at his ruined T-shirt.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Scott asked in amazed disbelief.

"I don't remember anything."

Scott could hear the emotion start to well in Sam's voice. "I'd best help you home quick," he said hurriedly, "we're all going to get into a lot of trouble over this."

"Thank you."

Scott helped Sam down the last of the steps. When they reached the bottom he took in a deep breath and looked at Sam somberly. "There's something you should know. David was attacked by some kind of mad dog last night. Sam, David's dead."

"What?" Sam responded in horror. Scott caught him as he stumbled on the last step, easing him down to sit on it for a moment so he could regain his wits. "Dead?"

"He never arrived home last night; his mother assumed he was staying with Carl or Phillip. That is 'till this morning, when she found what was left of him in the garden. The police are all over the place, asking everyone who'd seen David last, or if they'd seen any animals around. I over heard some people say that they'd heard noises coming from up here." Scott looked over Sam's ravaged state, "Did, did it come up here for you?"

Sam slumped over, holding his face in his hands. "I really don't know. I just can't remember what happened after you left." Sam suddenly realized that he ached all over-like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, and he looked like it too. "Lets get you home, although I don't know how we're going to explain this to your parents." Scott helped Sam to his feet and the two of them walked back to Sam's house.

"What on earth were you doing up there you silly boy!" Sam's mum asked with the biggest frown he'd ever seen.

"We were just messing around, you know, Halloween and all." Sam replied solemnly.

"I don't care what time of the year it was-it's no excuse for going to that death trap! It's boarded up for a reason you know."

"Yes mum." Sam replied looking at his shoeless feet.

"And what happened to your clothes?!"

"I, I don't know-I can't remember." tears were starting to form in Sam's eyes. His mother's heart melted as she saw the emotion stirring in her son.

"Ah-well, you're safe, and that's what matters. There'll be time to sort all this out after you've talked to the police. Now go up stairs and have a bath; you can't be seeing them looking like that." Sam didn't waste the opportunity to leave the uncomfortable interrogation and quickly turned and ran up the stairs, trying his best to hold back the tears. As he entered the bathroom and turned on the tap, he could hold them no longer and slumped by the door sobbing quietly until the bath was full.

The bath was just what Sam needed-the warm water purged his aches and pains and he got out feeling much better. Soon the police arrived and questioned him. The interview was brief, Sam only being able to tell them about the dare David had set, and then what had happened the previous night, as much as he could remember. The officers seemed skeptical about Sam's amnesia, but believed his sincerity so took him at his word. Satisfied that they'd gotten all the information they were going to get the policemen left and Sam suddenly felt a huge wave of exhaustion hit him and he yawned uncontrollably. It was still remarkably early, but all the excitement and the late night, whenever he did fall asleep last night had obviously taken it out of him. Sam slipped away to his bedroom, laid down on his bed and shut his eyes before slipping unnervingly quickly into a deep satisfying sleep.

Sam woke sharply. He had slept the rest of the day, the moon was now shining in the night sky, and man did he itch! All the cuts from last night were making Sam scratch. The itch turned into a burning due to Sam unavoidably ripping the scabs off. Suddenly one of his nails caught on something sharp and pulled it out of one of his wounds. Sam stopped scratching and looked at the object stuck under his nail. It was a thorn! 'But I never got scratched by the bushes last night.' he thought to himself. 'How could one of their thorns get under my skin? Unless, I went back through them, later, and don't remember it....' Just then, a terrible pain surged through his body and he fell to the floor clutching his stomach. Sam nigh on howled as an even more powerful wave passed over him. A huge weight seemed to land on his entire body, causing him to throw his head back, his gaze settling on the full moon shining directly through the bed room window. Sam let out another loud, guttural groan as another surge knocked him onto his side facing his door. The last thing Sam saw were his parents entering his room, his Dad loading his shotgun.