August 1, 1954


I have been home from Korea for less than a year. July was hotter than I remember, and I decided this morning to wander along the edge of Gods’ Hollow. In the past, a sudden rise or drop in temperature has often marked the beginning of trouble in the Hollow, and I have found it beneficial to make certain said trouble remains contained as best as possible.

This morning, less than a mile into the Hollow, I discovered a building which had been destroyed in the early thirties. Somehow, according to the whims of the Hollow, the building had been returned.

It was not a welcome sight.

St. Ann’s Home for Orphaned Children had been a Catholic establishment on the border of Cross and Pepperell, and in 1932, someone had set fire to the establishment. All records of those who had lived there worked there and died there had vanished in the flames. The destruction had been so complete, only a scattering of bricks had been discovered amongst the charred remnants of beams and wood. The bodies of children and staff were burnt beyond recognition, and it was believed they were lightning rods of ill-luck.

They were buried in a mass grave in Gods’ Hollow, much against my wishes.

I suppose that I should not have been surprised at the discovery of the building here. It may or may not be the original. Some power may have torn it out of time and thrown it here, or the collective memories of the deceased may have finally reconstructed their home, however horrific it might have been.

I am packing some supplies this evening, and soon I shall return to the orphanage. There is a slight chance that someone may be alive within it, so I owe it to them to look. It has been some time since I carried anything larger than an M1 carbine. Tomorrow, I will wear my Colts again, and I must admit, the thought of pulling their triggers is enticing.

#horror #CrossMassachusetts #monsters #supernatural #skulls #death #fear #evil #horrorobsessed #scary #ghosts #DuncanBlood #asylum #insane

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Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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