H E L L H O U S E

My name is Susanna Smith and these are the notes that I have taken during my investigation of Hell House.

I live in a sleepy little town that is nestled deep in the Appalachian Mountains. The population is less than 1,000 people. It's a friendly little place where everybody knows everything about everyone. For the most part, the townsfolk are kind and caring citizens. There are only two traffic lights in town, separated by an old, cracked road that is in desperate need of repairs. Government funding is rarely spread out into our neck of the woods. I suppose that such a small, insignificant place doesn't need it as much as the more prominent towns.

Every few years all of the men gather together and attempt to patch up the cracks and holes in the road. It's somewhat of a celebration because all of the ladies set up tables filled with various foods and cold drinks. The local kids take the opportunity to play baseball and run and play in the large open fields. It's truly a community get-together and we look forward to it.

As I grew older and evolved into my teenage years, I learned that our peaceful little town was shrouded with dark secrets and hushed whispers. An old ghost story that has lived throughout generations haunts our community. Some would say that it's more of a curse and refuse to speak of it. I found it to be unusually interesting and just like many of the other teenagers, I wanted to know more.

Deep in the woods, surrounded by towering trees sits an old abandoned house. "Hell House to be exact". There are no roads or paths leading up to it. Once you begin the journey into the mountains it takes about thirty minutes to reach the crumbling, devolving old house. Some of the elders claim that eerie lights can be seen shining through the trees at night, almost as if the house comes to life.

Apparently, only a handful of people are alive to tell what they have witnessed within the walls of Hell House. Almost everyone else is simply too terrified to go near the ancient house. I knew that the town preacher had visited the house at least once (at least that's what I was told). I decided to casually ask him some questions to satisfy my curiosity before visiting the house. I slipped a small recording device into my jacket and began my walk across town to Reverand Richard's home.

When I knocked on the door his wife gracefully invited me inside. The home appeared to be trapped in time. Antiques filled every space and the scent of fresh-baked bread filled the air. She gave me a peculiar stare when I asked to speak to Richard. She led me into the living room and informed me that she would be right back. I watched as she walked into the kitchen and continued to tend to the bread that she was baking.

I found the preacher relaxing on the sofa. At first, he appeared happy to see me until I began asking questions about Hell House. His eyes turned pale and his hands began to tremble. "I promised myself that I would never speak about that house again, and that was more than 50 years ago," he explained with a low whisper. I immediately noticed how deathly pale that his skin was. I assumed that it was normal for his age.

"Please Reverand, if you don't tell me what's in that house then I'll go have a look for myself." I boldly countered him. He took in a long, deep breath and reached for his steaming coffee cup sitting on the table. "If you absolutely insist," he mumbled.

I was invited to visit the house when I was a young man. The lady of the house "Erica Hell" had fallen terribly ill. The Hell's were always distant and hush-hush. The only time that they left the mountain was to gather supplies about once a month. Some people said that Erica was a witch and they blamed her for everything that went wrong in this town.

Three young children turned up missing that Summer. Half of the town gathered and marched into those mountains after her. When she refused to come out of the house...they went in after her. I remember that night very clearly, I was just a child. Twenty or more men went into that house and only three came running back out of that mountain. One of them died the very next day and the other two were sent upstate to a mental hospital. After that, all sorts of bad things began to happen. Cattle were dying, crops were failing and people were turning ill with some unknown virus. Everyone in this town believed that Erica Hell had cast a curse upon us. The townsfolk promised that if she would break the curse, they'd never enter those mountains ever again.

One day I was asked to go visit Hell House, Erica had fallen terribly ill. She had just given birth to a set of twins. I assumed that her complications were due to a lack of medical care during her pregnancy. I couldn't just do nothing knowing that she had those babies to care for.

Even back then there was no road or path leading to the house. I packed a small bag of antibiotics and fresh garden foods to take to her. When I arrived, there was a strange, peculiar and eerie atmosphere all around that house. The voices in my head were telling me to turn around and run but my heart led me straight to the front door.

There must have been at least 100 cats surrounding that house. Each one of them arched and hissed as I stepped onto the porch. The door opened and I walked inside but there was nobody there. I called out several times before I saw the dim light upstairs. The entire house smelled of death, metallic, vein-busting death. At that point, I become extremely worried about Erica.

As I walked up the old, broken staircase I noticed that my hand was covered with fresh, warm blood. It was dripping and running down the banister as if someone had just deliberately poured it out. I could hear the babies crying as I called out again "Erica! Erica, it's Reverand Richard and I have brought medicine and food for you." I could hear sounds coming from the room at the end of the hallway. I slowly made my way through the shadows and cracked the door.

Inside I found Erica Hell chopping her husband into pieces with a bloody axe. I gasped as she turned and stared at me. What I saw within her eyes was not of human nature. She glided across the room as if her feet were not even touching the floor. I dropped the bag of supplies and ran. In the darkness, I lost my way and entered another room. It was a nursery for the babies, but there were no babies in that crib. Instead, there was a tiny baby pig swaddled in a cotton blanket. Its head resting peacefully on a small pillow.

I finally found the staircase and rushed down frantically searching for the exit. In the kitchen were jars filled with bloody specimens. I honestly believed that they were human remains. I could still hear those babies crying, no matter where I went their screams followed me.

I dashed out of that house and ran as hard and fast as I could and I didn't look back. The next day the sheriff and a group of men went into the mountains to investigate. They found Mr. Hell just as I had...slaughtered, his body half-eaten. They estimated that about 20 farm animals had been butchered within the house, all located in different rooms. Those jars in the kitchen...filled with small fingers and toes. Evidence of those three missing children's horrific fate.

They never did find Erica or those two babies. Rumors around town suggested that she had sealed her children within the walls of the house. Over the years Erica had given birth to many children, none of them were ever found. Sometimes at night, I swear I can still hear them crying up in that mountain. That sound still haunts me terribly.

The house was sealed off and nobody dared to go near it ever again. It's true, at night the house comes to life with an eerie glow. I believe that Erica is still there. I know that the math just doesn't add up, she'd be much too old to be living up there in that mountain, but believe me, she is!

A few years ago some young ghost hunters came into town and decided to be brave and investigate Hell House. I begged them not to go up there. They never came down out of that mountain; All five of them just vanished up there. I am a man of great belief but even I know that some things should be left alone.

True evil lives within the walls of Hell House, an evil so terrifying that the people of this town have vowed to never speak of it. The legend says that those who lay eyes upon Erica Hell are cursed and will die within three days. The only way to break the curse is by forcing someone else to look upon her. She'll come after you and every person that you love and hold dear.

Although I was amazed by this wonderful, gruesome story I couldn't help but ask one very obvious question:

"So it's kind of like that horror movie, once you see it you'll die, is that what you're telling me? You saw her, why aren't you dead?" I chuckled.

He slowly handed me a worn and faded photograph.

"Wait....if I shouldn't look at her, then why did you just hand me this photograph of her?" I frantically asked.

Suddenly the reverend's wife entered the room. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, I had to take the bread out of the oven. Now what did you want to know about Richard?" she asked. "Oh, I just spoke with him and that's all that I needed," I noticed that I was sitting alone on the sofa. She awkwardly smiled at me, "Darling, Richard died months ago.....