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The skies were already overcast and dreary and it was only 2 PM. The way the clouds blocked the sunlight made it feel later, like it might be 7 or 8. Sean sighed and watched the last rays of the sun disappear in the distance. They looked like hands reaching for the land below, but slowly they faded away to nothingness. It was truly going to be a dark and stormy night...

It was truly going to be perfect, Sean thought with a slow smile as he watched his buddy's van pull up. Sean reached down and grabbed his pelican box, a black case that held all his filming equipment. "You ready for this," Mark called to him as he slipped out the driver's side.

"Dude, I was born ready for this. And this weather? I thought we were gonna have a hell of a time in the editing." Mark pulled open the back of his van as he brought the case over. The backseat was already filled with gear and it took both of them grunting to move the case on top of everything else.

"I know, right," Mark agreed, closing the back of the van. "C'mon, we gotta get going. The others are already setting-up at the house! This is gonna be the best film thesis project ever!"

The two quickly clambered into the vehicle and drove off as the sky rumbled ominously. They had been writing the script for this project for the past two months. The location scouting had been tricky, as they needed something out of the way so there wouldn't be any interference in terms of noise or people stopping by.

Have you ever been so far away from civilization that you actually strain to try and hear the noises that everyone assumes are annoying? The sound of a car driving along a road. The honking of horns or even the chatter of other people. They're background noise and over time, people grow accustomed to them. It isn't until they're gone that we realize just how much we take them for granted. That's why they had looked for a cabin in the woods at first. That plan had led them to look at various resorts in the mountains and checking when their off-seasons were for tourists, so they wouldn't have to deal with people randomly making noise at any given time. The problem was that the resorts that would actually rent them cabins to film in had neighboring cabins, which would ruin the ambience of their scenes.

It was terribly distracting to shoot a scene in a dark hallway, adjusting the camera for the right lighting, then have a neighbor switch on a light, sending out beams of not-quite-white into the darkness beyond. The unknown.

It was Rebecca that had found the house. It was actually for sale for a lot of money, but hadn't been occupied for over five years. She had negotiated with the real estate agent until they had come to an arrangement so they could use the house for one weekend. The house sat on acres and acres of woodland and was gated, so they knew the scene was set.

"Dude, Sean, check your phone..." Mark was holding his cell phone up with one hand while his other was on the steering wheel. "No reception. Not a single bar." His voice was a whisper, but it held a tremble of excitement to it.

Sean pulled his out, "Nothing! Yes, yes, yeeees! This is so awesome. The girls had better have already done their make-up, Mark, cause this thing is on like Donkey Kong!"

"You know it! Check it, there it is!" Mark pointed up to his right. They had been driving for a few hours, but in the distance, on a hill, a dark shape loomed. Around them, trees and darkness pervaded the rest of their world.

They pulled up to the house slowly, taking it all in. "Hold up a sec, Mark. Let me get my establishing shot." Sean pulled out his case from the back of the van, popping the latches on the sides open. Inside was his gear. He began pulling out various pieces of equipment and setting them on the broken asphalt road. It might have once been a nice road, but time and weeds had not been kind to it judging by the various shoots coming up through the man-made lane. Once he had things assembled, he slipped his harness over his head and onto his shoulders. The shoulder stabilizing brace was perfect for doing camera work, ensuring his shots weren't shaky. Next, he pulled out his video camera, a Panasonic AJ HD Camcorder, a piece of equipment that cost more than his car. It locked into the shoulder brace with a few twists here and a tightening there.

The house itself was ancient. It had been built in a Victorian-style, complete with a porch that was elevated off the ground and had pillars on both sides of the stairs leading up to the front door. It was a three-story home, with a large attic. The real estate agent had said the prior owners had left the United States awhile back suddenly and had never returned, merely asking the property company to handle the selling of it. The whole structure was a fading grey. It might have been white once, but that was long gone. The current coloration made it seem like the house faded into the blackness around it until you were almost right up on it. In addition, a series of add-ons had been started on one side of the house, but hadn't been finished. That part of the house wasn't painted at all and the wood was still a grainy brown, but it looked sickly, like the wood was decaying already.

"Excellent," Sean whispered, adjusting his shot. As he walked, the shoulder brace kept the shots from bouncing at all, almost making it seem like the shot was gliding over the surface of the Earth. There were still no visible lights on in the house, so he knew he could do a slow walk down the broken road, turn around, and walk back. Thankfully, Mark had moved the van out of the way once he had finished getting his gear out. He parked it next to two other cars, parked off to the side of the house, so they weren't in the shot.

The establishing shot was the part of the film that was meant to set-up the context for the scene, sort of establish the atmosphere and the location and how they relate. The dark clouds and the fading light added that right amount of ambience for the clip. The shot showed the darkness and the woods standing vigilant on either side of the road. Crumpled-up leaves blew past and the trees swayed in the wind. There was a quiet rumble in the sky that built as he walked towards the house and it almost seemed to appear in the shot. In fact, he was certain that it had almost faded out of the night and into existence.

"Whoah," Sean felt himself whispering. He quickly walked back down the road and did the shot three more times. He needed to make sure he had enough shots of this to choose from after all. "Mark, check these shots out!" He walked back to the van and nudged his friend, who had just finished unloading the van. He pulled the camera off his stabilizing brace and flipped it so his friend could watch the scene on the little preview screen that flipped out conveniently.

"Sick," Mark agreed, half-watching the shots as he finished getting everything out. "Okay, why don't you go in and get the girls so we can start this? And tell Rich to get out here and help me move this crap into the house."

"Yeah, yeah," Sean grinned as he placed the camera back on his shoulder and kept rolling as he walked towards the front porch. He had plenty of data cards to switch-out, so he could shoot for hours.

As Sean approached the structure, he had the weirdest sensation. A prickly feeling on the back of his neck, like someone was breathing on it lightly. Though he knew he was shooting, he turned his head and shoulders, looking left and right. He didn't see anyone standing around, so he looked back at the house, only a few feet away. His eyes moved from the front entrance and upwards. While Sean was not the biggest fan of horror movies, his buddies were. Horror movies just didn't endear themselves to him in the way they caused people to jump or yell or scream with simple film tricks. Instead, he was a fan of 'moods'. He loved understanding what made something scary or romantic based on more than just the actual actors. He had watched one movie seven times to grasp all the little factors that the director had used to add to every scene's emotions. His friends didn't quite grasp that. So while he wasn't opposed to doing a scary movie, he wasn't for it either. He was just along for the ride. You couldn't fight the enthusiasm of a solid group.

As he stood there, his eyes not quite seeing, he felt the sensation of being watched pass. The hairs on the back of his neck only felt cold from the wind blowing. He shrugged and walked up the porch, still shooting. The structure creaked as he walked on the wood, which probably needed to be replaced before anyone moved in to this monstrosity of a house. The door was equally grand. The original owners hadn't settled for a simple door, but a massive twin doorway that felt like you were about to enter a ballroom. Sean had seen the house during the day, but this would be his first time entering it a night. He turned the handles and stood still as he pushed the gateway open. There was a rush of air from behind him and the doors swung open rather dramatically.

The entranceway was majestic. Dry leaves blew past him and inside the dark home, creating a strange rustling sound. Sean was so glad he was filming this. These shots were priceless and he wasn't even working for them. He took his first step inside the house and felt the instant change. The noise from outside was almost entirely absent. Even the wind, which he had felt blowing on his ears moments before, felt like it was completely gone. He stood in absolute silence and it weighed down on him. There was something here that he didn't quite understand, like a word on the tip of his tongue. He kept trying to grasp it, but it escaped him.

"Sean, what're you doing, man," a voice broke the depths that he had found himself sinking to. Sean spun around and saw Mark standing in the doorway, a set of light stands under one arm and a bag in the other. "Weren't ya gonna let the others know we were here?"

"Sorry," Sean replied, his voice trailing off. "I just...got lost in this place for a second."

Mark laughed, "A second, bro? You've been in here for five minutes already, at least."

Sean blinked, "What? That's not..." He looked at the time on his camera and found that it showed six minutes of footage extra. "Huh. My bad."

"It's cool. This place has that effect, ya know? Dark. Gloomy. It's why Rebecca fought to get it for us. You stand in here and you can almost feel time itself slow down and stop, am I right?"

Sean shook his head and shrugged, "Yeah, sure." That wasn't quite what he had felt. In fact, as he had stood there, he could've sworn that somewhere in the darkness he had heard a rattle sound echo somewhere. It had been faint, like the wind had blown something outside. He glanced up and saw the central spiral staircase, which led to both upper floors. The attic had a separate entrance down one of the halls.

"Can you imagine owning this place," Mark continued rambling, despite his friend's quietness. "I think it was selling for like twenty million. Probably cause of all the land that comes with it."

Sean glanced left and right, suddenly honing in on something. "Uh...Mark. Where is everybody?" Mark blinked, looking around as well. The electricity was shut-off to the house, so the group had brought plenty of flashlights to get around, and a few camping lanterns too. All the gear was sitting in a pile next to the staircase, still partly packed up.

"Oh come on," Mark growled loudly. "Come on out, guys! This isn't funny. We have a lot of filming to do, so now isn't the time to be childish!" His voice echoed around the large entranceway. It seemed to echo back at them mockingly.

They waited a few moments, but no one stepped out and went 'boo' and started laughing. It was silent. "Richard, you around? I need your help setting-up the tripods...?" Sean's voice cracked a little at the end, in nervousness. He could actually hear his voice carried into the space around him and get quieter as it went. It was a rather unnerving feeling.

"Sean," Mark began quietly. He pointed over at the staircase, which was still slightly dusty. There, clearly marked on the old fabric, were shoeprints leading upstairs. "The idiots probably went exploring. Got lost or something. Or they just can't hear us."

"Dude," Sean whispered back, "This house is empty. There is no one else in it. They had to hear us. Right?"

Before Mark could reply, Sean slowly looked around the first floor through his camera. There was a hallway on the right leading to the dining area and the main kitchen. On the left was a parlor room of some kind. No television sets or speakers adorned the ancient structure though. Instead, couches and chairs sat with white sheets on them to protect them. He watched them to see if they would shift at all and move, but they stayed absolutely still under the camera's watchful lens.

"Where else would they be," Mark asked confidently, walking over to the stairs and reaching down to grab a lantern out.

"I guess," Sean admitted quietly. "I don't see any footpr-" His voice died with a slight tremble.

Mark turned around, "What's wrong, Sean?" In the light of the camping lantern, his visage grew deep and shadowed, but his voice was serious. He wasn't teasing, only checking on his friend.

"Um...Mark, did you...uh, close the door when you came in?" Sean pointed shakily at the doorway of the house, where the twin barriers now stood touching, closed instead of open.

His friend didn't reply right away, standing completely still before shaking his head, "My foot or the wind probably closed it. No big deal. Come on."

Sean watched his buddy start towards the stairs, but some part of him knew he should get out of there. The wind was blowing inwards, the same way the door opened. There was no way the wind closed it. Then he heard a slight rattle somewhere high above him, just faint enough that he could excuse it as his imagination. It sounded like a walnut shaking in a wooden bowl, too irregular to be some old machine trying to function. He quickly jogged to catch-up to Mark, not wanting to be left even the slightest bit isolated in this place.

"You still filming," Mark asked, interrupting the silence as he kept the light on the footprints in the dust. "I can see the red light is on, so I figured..."

"Yeah," was the automatic reply Sean gave. "I dunno, I figure, why not? Right? If nothing else, we can splice these shots into the film and make some horrifying moments. Add some tension to an ordinary or weak moment. Build the mood up."

He didn't say aloud that right now, he felt the tension in the air like it was palpable. While the camera was somewhat heavy, he had been working with it long enough to be comfortable lugging it around without too much effort. Yet as he walked up the stairs with his friend, he could feel the sweat droplets roll down his back. The house had seemed majestic at first, but now everything seemed to lean in towards him in the ever-present darkness and silence.

When he voiced this thought, Mark chuckled, "It's just the way objects cast shadows in the lantern's light. I swear, man, there is no boogie man here to get you. On the other hand..." Mark patted his left pocket, "I did bring a knife in case we have some crazy homeless guy in here. Never can be too careful." Sean wasn't normally one to be a 'coward', but at the moment he did feel a little more confidence because of Mark's certainty. They reached the second floor together and Mark found the footsteps continued upstairs. They paused at the landing, Mark shining the light down the second floor's hallways, "Rebecca? Jessie? Ari? Richard? Anybody?" While his voice clearly carried, there was no reply. "Man...What the hell, guys..."

"Hold up a sec," Sean whispered very quietly, placing a hand on Mark's shoulder. "Point the light over to that bannister on the other side?" He pointed to help guide the light. There, on a walkway crossing over the doorway, was a single dust-absent handprint.

"See," Mark chuckled, much louder in Sean's ears than it should be. "They were up here. You know what? They probably got bored and fell asleep in one of the rooms or something. Let's go wake them up, aight?"

Sean shook his head, "Mark, man. I know you're trying to be all, 'everything is normal' here, but look." He took one step away from the stairs, then stepped back. His shoes treads, while not completely evident, were there. "Hold the light up again?" Mark slowly lifted the light. The only footprint in sight were the ones that lead upwards to the third floor and the single footprint that Sean had just made.

"Dude, that's...uh..." Even Mark faltered. "How did..." He turned the lantern back towards the railing over the doorway and stared at the marking. "That doesn't make any sense."

The rattling came again, like something clacking against a solid object, from above them once more. This time, Sean knew it wasn't his imagination because even Mark turned and looked upstairs.

"Okay, Mark, I love our friends, but how about we leave. Like now. We head to the nearest town where people are, then come back in the morning, when there's daylight and this place doesn't seem so creepy."

Mark slowly shook his head, "Are you kidding me, Sean? I can't leave this moment and neither can you...! We're filming a horror movie, but we're also living it! This is freaking awesome! I don't know how Rich and the girls did this, but my heart is beating so hard right now! Yes! Come on."

Sean wanted to leave. In fact, he wanted to run down those stairs, out the doors, and never look back. Yet at that moment, he felt like he didn't dare leave the camping lantern's warm light. He should have grabbed a flashlight, he realized, but now it was too late. Now, he clung to Mark's light as he ascended the stairs to the third floor. Together, they followed the footsteps that lead them to the third story landing. The only sounds were their labored breathing and shuffling. The camera rolled onwards, recording every word and sight. Sean kept checking the preview screen as he started switching it from regular to night-vision mode and back, just to check everywhere that he could.

There, they found a series of rolled-up rugs laying against the wall and footsteps that led to the right. "Mark, this is bad," Sean whispered. "This...this screams of something wrong." He winced at his own word choice.

"I know... There is no way you could fake these kinds of moments. You have to surprise someone with them. That's what they're doing, don't you see, Sean? They're making the movie, with us. They're making us believe it! Oh man, I'm so wigging out on this!"

Sean shook his head, knowing that wasn't the case, but his friend was too far gone. He believed in the lie he was telling himself so strongly that nothing would move him. He saw that now.

"I know where those footsteps go, Mark. I'm not going up to that attic." Sean's words were quiet, almost reverent, as though he stood in a church. "You go. I'm...I'm leaving. I've already..." He felt it in his body. In his bones. He could go no further. "I've already come too far."

"What," Mark vehemently protested. "No! We need you. We need to record this. This is so epic!" He gestured with his hands dramatically, "These shots are going to be the best thesis, by far! Bar none!"

"No," Sean shook his head, some self-preservation kicking in. "I'm not going any further. This is as far as my steps will take me."

"That's the thing," Mark shook with something that might be called excitement. "We believe in it! That's what makes this so good."

Once more, Sean shook his head and took a step back, as he did so, the rattling sound came once more, closer than ever before. Almost just over their heads. "I'm done with this. I'm sorry."

"Fine! Ruin everything, Sean! That's what you're doing. You're ruining this...! But not me. I'm going to keep on going!" With that, he turned and used his flashlight lantern to follow the footprints once more.

Sean turned his camera back to night vision and carefully went down the stairs. He couldn't see well enough to run, or he would have, but he dare not risk slipping and hurting himself. Not here. He knew he would never escape then. When he got to the first floor, he grabbed a flashlight, the handheld kind, and flipped it on. The light shook. He hadn't noticed how badly his hands shook because his shoulder brace kept the camera stabilized. As the light darted around, he spotted nothing. No one. He lifted it to the third floor, not sure if he would find something looking down on him, but there was nothing.

He quickly ran to the gateway to the outside world and turned the handles. He wasn't sure if he expected them to not give, to resist, but they easily opened and he felt the wind pushing on him and a sound. The sound of falling rain pattering against the ground. Behind him, he could swear he heard something else, but it was faint enough that he could easily dismiss it amidst the outside clamor of precipitation. He ran outside with every ounce of self-preservation that he had.

When he got to Mark's van, he was just starting to get wet. He quickly reached under the front left wheel and pulled out his friend's emergency key. He opened the vehicle door and threw himself inside. He quickly took the camera off, still letting it run, and set it down on the passenger seat. Then he locked the doors. His breathing was labored and he felt so drained that he was sure he had just run miles. For the first time, he felt how sweaty his body was. His face was drenched, his armpits were huge blots of wetness on his shirt, and his entire body trembled. None of that was from the rain. Yet he was outside of the house. He glanced back and let out a small sigh of relief.

He was free. He turned the van on and put it in reverse. As he pulled out, he noticed that the door to the house was closed. He hadn't closed it on his way out. He quickly slammed the vehicle into drive and got out of there as fast as the van could go. He was going to get out. There was no way he would walk into oblivion's arms so willingly.

Sean drove down the road, out the gate, and kept on going. As the distance grew, the feeling in the pit of his stomach didn't lessen at all. He hit the main road and kept on going, not daring to turn on the radio. His ears strained for any sound of anything other than the patter of rain and the 'swish' of the windshield wipers. There was nothing. He saw a sign telling them that he was about to enter a town. He ignored it and passed the motel that proudly said 'Vacancies'. It was still too close. He couldn't stop here. He needed to be home, behind the door that was his own and no others.

As he drove, he watched as the rain slowly lessened to nothing. He hit the freeway and kept going. The sun's light peeked over the horizon and he began to see more and more cars, which did help him feel just a little bit safer, but there was still something wrong. He glanced in the rearview mirror as often as he could, just waiting to see some dark shadow reaching for him. When the light came on for gas, he stopped. He carefully got out, opened the back of the van up, and searched it from top to bottom. He checked under the seats, pressed on the cushions, and opened every box that had been left in the back. Then he finally began to cry. There was only filming gear in the van and his fears, but those seemed to slowly float away. A few people stared, but he didn't care. There was no big, bad anything waiting to get him. He let a small smile crack through and filled up on premium.

He made it home safe and sound. He hadn't stopped again, but this time it wasn't out of fear. He parked the van in his own driveway, next to his small sedan. Then he grabbed his camera, which at some point he had turned off, and walked calmly into the house. He still locked the door behind him anyways. Inside, he went straight to his room. He set the camera down on his desk, then he collapsed into bed. Sleep overtook him easily.

When he woke up, he checked his phone. No missed calls, no messages, and it was Sunday. They had left for the shoot on Friday night. He didn't know if he should weep in sadness for his friends, whom he knew were lost, or in relief at his own living. He let the tears fall anyways. Once the emotion passed, he pulled his camera out and started the footage over. He began to watch as he first walked towards the house. Then the walk inside. When he got to the six minutes where he had stood in the entranceway, he watched carefully as the camera moved around to take everything in. The shots were good, he had to admit. He was about to hit the fast-forward button to skip to the stairs when he heard the rattling sound, ever so faintly. Sean felt his heart skip a beat, knowing that he hadn't imagined it. There was victory in that, he supposed.

In the evening light of Sunday's sun, he knew that there had been something in that house. Those sounds could have been made by the wind or leaky pipes or a bird in the attic, but he didn't believe that for a second. Something dark had lived in that house. Maybe even evil. He didn't know and he didn't care. He reached down to hit the 'trash can' delete button on the camera. When he did so, a single box popped-up in the middle of his shot, which was still going on in the background, asking him if he was sure. Before he could hit that trash can one more time, his eyes fell to the bottom of the preview screen. Resting in the lower right-hand side of the screen was the little speaker symbol that showed the volume for the replay of his filming.

There was a diagonal line through it. The rattling came again, from behind him, and he screamed.