Since time immemorial, the dark side of man has felt a morbid fascination with the occult, black and white magic, and the supernatural, much of which has resulted in myths and folklore becoming an intrinsic part of cultures throughout the world. In the not too distant past, commonly referred to today as the Dark Ages, our forefathers lived in dread of witches, vampires, gargoyles, and other unspeakable demons that were believed to inflict misery on humankind. Today these creatures of the night are dismissed as the fantasies of simple folk, based on the superstitions handed down from parent to child from long ago. It is not my intention to debate the reality or non-existence of such creatures. Rather, it is to make the reader aware of a far more sinister reality in which I was recently a protagonist. With the aid of the other survivors, who were compelled to face the consequences of what is recorded on the following pages, I have attempted to put together all the known facts.

My name is Matt James. I am a psychologist, and the following case history is meant as a warning. The reader is free to dismiss the message contained in these pages. Nevertheless, I firmly believe mankind will pay a high cost if we refuse to go beyond the physical boundaries, to discover the metaphysical, that is constantly influencing our daily lives. To choose ignorance today may lead to consequences far from blissful for humankind. I know this to be true because of my own experiences. The following is not the ramblings of a tortured mind. It is simply a plea to the reader to examine and judge the facts objectively.

CHAPTER 1

Adam Carter waded through the knee-deep winter grass. He felt tired and frustrated as he looked forlornly into the rising mist. His caution was not so much because of what might lie in the undergrowth, ready to attack him in retaliation for being stepped on, but because he could not ignore the feeling he might stumble over the corpse of his beloved at any moment.

He had no idea how long she had been gone, only that she was missing from her sleeping bag when he woke that morning. There had to be an explanation and he was determined to discover her whereabouts.

He continued alternately shouting her name and waiting for an answer. It seemed like hours since he had started his search, but his hopes lifted as the pale sunlight brightened through the distant gumtrees. Sucking in the cold dawn air, he looked across the fields, and hoped to catch a glimpse of her in the distance.

"Marisa! Where are you, Marisa?" He heard his voice shake with strain, or perhaps it was because he was shivering: the dew was very heavy.

"I'm over here, Adam." Her voice was melodious; sounding sweet like the calls of the numerous currawongs. "The other side of the hill."

He felt intense relief coursing through his being.

"I won't go any further," he protested. "You come to me."

"Go back to the camp. I won't be long."

Adam found his way back to their tent. Back inside his sleeping bag, he hugged his lean upper torso for warmth. The hairs sticking to his legs made him aware his soaked tracksuit pants were wetting his ankles and calves.

Gasping from her quick climb up the hill, Marisa opened the tent flap. "Have you been awake long?" she asked, then smiled sheepishly as he glared at her.

"Long enough to worry. What were you doing, a city girl like you, wandering about in the middle of nowhere?"

"I went looking for the house, Adam. Surely you would have guessed."

"Dressed like that?" he returned, frowning.

"There's no one around for miles," dismissed Marisa. "Besides, I'm well covered." She pulled down the white skivvy so it hid her tanned knees.

"Put that on." He tossed her a jumper. "I don't want you getting a fever."

She looked defiant. "How many times do I have to say it? Dreaming of the house makes me hot."

"There is no house!"

"It was there. Please believe me."

"I wish I could," he replied.

Her voice was childlike. "Don't be angry with me."

"I'm not upset," he lied. "I was just concerned for you."

He was a poor liar, and Marisa apologised. Adam had a forgiving nature and held out his arms. "Come here and make it up to me," he said.

She grabbed his hands and sighed as he pulled her down onto him.

"It's not my imagination." She rubbed her hot full lips gently over his cheeks. "I really did see a house."

He kissed her forehead lightly; the warmth of her body felt inviting against him. "You are hot, Marisa."

Her cheeks blushed slightly. "If you don't stop hugging me, I might just melt away."

"And who lives in this phantom house?" He let go of her waist.

"I'm not sure," she answered very seriously. "It was hard to tell through the smoke and flames."

"That's no answer," he insisted. "More details please."

"Judging from their screams, it seemed like a whole family."

Adam hugged her tightly, "I love you dearly, Marisa. Please don't spoil things with silly dreams."

"They're not silly. They're frightening."

No use, he thought. Let's hope the dreams stop when we get back home.

"Perhaps it's all the excitement." Marisa pressed hard up against him, then kissed him gently on the lips.

"Excitement?" Adam was bemused. They were miles from the urban society that

Marisa usually found exciting.

"Being married to a handsome man does that to a girl," she confided, her bright green eyes flickering. "Makes her act irrationally."

"I'm the lucky one, Marisa." But he pulled away. "There's no time for games, we have to pack."

She was in no hurry to let him escape from her long, tanned arms.

"But," he promised as he wriggled out of his sleeping bag. "I'll make up for lost time when we get home."

It took hours breaking camp, before Adam put the last of their belongings into the back of the utility.

"We should go into Brumby for refreshments and fuel," he decided.

Marisa laughed. "Brumby's such a hick town ¼I thought they still used the horse and buggy. Didn't know they had any modern conveniences."

On reaching the outskirts, Marisa pointed out the huge sign welcoming careful drivers and declaring proudly that Brumby was a Tidy Town, with a population of two hundred.

Adam parked adjacent to the public library and they walked across to the Paragon Cafe opposite.

Marisa sat on a wooden bench and stared out the shopfront window while he went over to the metal counter. The smell of fire invaded her senses, and she turned to watch Adam place their order with the gawky freckle-faced teenage girl who looked distracted.

Adam came back to the table.

"It's about time." She eyed the large steak, the generous side salad and wholemeal bread roll he placed on the marbletop table. "That looks delicious."

"Only yourself to blame." He passed over the black coffee and a doughnut. "You could have ordered a proper meal." He put the wooden tray next to his seat.

"I'm really not hungry," she said again, smiling back at him.

"That'd be a nice change," he answered. "You're always eating."

"You should be glad I have a healthy appetite." Her tanned cheeks reddened. "What if I was anorexic?"

"Then what's the problem?" he asked. He was, though, thankful she enjoyed her food.

"The steaming hotplate behind the counter. It reminds me of the house. The black smoke billowing out of the windows and the screams coming from inside."

"Forget the house, it was a figment of your imagination."

"It was real!" She clearly recalled the house standing there in the dusk. "It was an eerie sight, and three storeys high."

"You did see something ¼ But not a house. When we went looking, there were only meadows."

She was silent, watching him swallow a piece of steak and wash it down with some lemonade. He looked up across the table, waiting for an answer. She broke her silence. "Then what did I see?"

"Any number of things. A large clump of trees in the shape a house, when the sun was setting and your eyes were playing tricks."

"None of that sounds plausible. I know the house was there at first, and then had simply vanished."

"Into thin air?" He looked sceptical.

"You should have been there," she accused. "Then you'd be forced to believe me."

He picked up his napkin and wiped his hands. "It's time we left."

"That's a good idea," agreed Marisa. "We both have an early start in the morning." After paying the bill, they went out into the crisp autumn air.

Adam inhaled deeply, feeling exhilarated. The leaves of the trees in the street were turning yellow beneath the clear blue sky. Life was wonderful.

"Brumby is so colourful and peaceful this time of year," he decided.

"The countryside is beautiful. But it'd take more than that to make me want to live here."

He was disappointed. "Reasons?"

"Not enough excitement for a big city girl. It's as quiet as a graveyard. The perfect place to come when you're ready to die."

That's unfair, he thought, remembering their earlier conversation. "Surely I'd be enough excitement," he laughed half-heartedly.

"Only some of the time." She settled herself into the passenger seat. "Now take me home."

CHAPTER 2

Marisa heard her door chimes ring softly, and at once stepped out of the tepid bath. Wondering who would call so early, she wrapped a pink bathrobe around her body, tied the cord tightly, glanced into the mirror and ran her nails once through her auburn hair. As she dripped down the hallway the chimes sounded again. Opening the front door, she was pleased to find the impatient visitor was Denise Simpson.

"Hello, Marisa," she began. "O, have I come at a bad time?"

"No, why? Come in."

"You look so flushed. Are you okay?"

"Don't be silly. Make yourself comfortable while I get dressed."

Denise was perched on the green sofa when Marisa returned, all aglow and stunning. She wore a pair of khaki shorts and a yellow skivvy with large red letters that spelled out, Big Girls Have More Fun.

"I wish I had your figure, Marisa," Denise complained, feigning envy. "Elle MacPherson has nothing on you."

"Only her pay cheques," Marisa replied wryly.

Patting the vacant seat, Denise invited her friend to join her. "It's no fun being short and fat," she added.

Marisa sat down. "There! Happy now?" she said. "Besides, you're not fat ¼ Soft and cuddly, I'd say. I know lots of men who find that very attractive."

Thinking it was kind of her friend to say so, Denise asked. "How was your second honeymoon? As good as the first?"

"Still the same old Denise. As direct as ever."

"So tell me. Was it romantic?" Her emphasis was on the word "romantic".

She knew what Denise was implying, and her answer was unexpected. "It was until I saw that house."

"He still has what it takes?" Denise's mind was still focused on the honeymoon tidbits.

Marisa answered. "You know Adam. He can turn a girl's head."

"He does have a certain charm."

"But he's not always charming." She reminded her friend, then smiled sweetly.

"Hey, what was that about a house? I didn't understand."

"Coffee." Marisa had stopped smiling, and went at once into the kitchen to switch on the electric kettle.

"I have to admit, coffee is still my favourite food." Denise followed her, commandeered the sugar bowl and measured heaped spoonfuls into the two cups on the sink. "What's this about a house?" she again asked.

The kettle's shrill whistle made Marisa jump. "Go and sit down and I'll tell you all about it," she said, still not looking at her friend.

When she brought in the tray, Denise watched her closely.

"Are you hot, Marisa? I thought it was a bit chilly in here, but¼"

"It has nothing to do with the room temperature. I'm always hot. It started with the ¼ While we were away."

"Hot flushes! Marisa, you're not pregnant?"

"Denise, you're always jumping to conclusions. And you're wrong as usual."

"That's a pity. I presume it's what you want."

Marisa looked uncomfortable. "We've been trying. Adam thinks the time's right. The business is doing really well."

"You still haven't told me about the house." Denise sipped her coffee then sighed. "Are you going to keep this up all morning?" she asked impatiently.

Relenting, Marisa shivered. "Adam had to go into town, and while out walking, I saw an old house."

"You hadn't seen it before?"

"No, it just seemed to come out of nowhere. I was inquisitive and went to investigate."

Her curious nature would have made Denise to do the same.

"It was almost dark, and as I got nearer I could smell something sickening ¼ Like burning rubber."

"What was it like inside?"

Marisa shuddered. "The place was so dark and eerie. It was as if something evil inside ¼ Waiting to get out."

"Creepy! Tell me more."

"There were boards on the windows, and it looked like a prison. Then came the voices, followed by screaming. Children's screams too, I think."

"Coming from where?"

"Inside. I soon realised the house was on fire. There was black smoke rolling out between the boards, and I was frightened. I rushed back to camp to wait for Adam."

"So you told him about the house?"

"Of course. He didn't believe me. Insisted it was a clump of trees, or we would have seen it before."

"Didn't you take him there?"

"I would have, but he suggested we wait till morning. It was very dark by then."

"Was it as frightening by daylight?"

"By then it had disappeared, and Adam wouldn't believe it existed."

"Well, I believe you. You're far too sensible to be just seeing things."

"Thanks, Denise." She sat very upright, staring out of the window. "But that's not the problem."

"What is, then?"

"The nightmares."

"To do with the house?"

"Always. And about the ¼ The people trapped in the attic. There are voices, mostly screaming. Children's voices too." Her head dropped. She was sobbing. "It's so horrible, so real."

Denise's almond eyes filled with tears too. "Marisa! How long have you been suffering?"

"Since I saw the house. It has been haunting me ever since."

"What does Adam say now?"

"He wants me to forget about it."

"What about your doctor?" Denise wiped her eyes then handed her friend a tissue.

"How can you ask me that after the way my mother died?"

"Doctors didn't kill your mother. She died of breast cancer."

"She should have been allowed to die with dignity. The treatment was worse than the disease; all the surgery and chemotherapy."

"O, you should see someone. They might help you to sleep."

"I hadn't thought of that." Marisa looked thoughtful. "A strong sedative might knock me out. I don't want to wake up screaming again tonight."

"This must be hard on Adam too?" Denise watched Marisa blow her nose.

"He's interstate. Said he needed to get away for a while."

You shouldn't be alone, thought Denise.

"He's back in a few days." She deposited the empty mugs in the kitchen. "I will get some sleeping pills."

"They might stop the dreams." Denise knew she sounded unsure. "Let's hope so."

"Enough about me. What have you been up to?" Taking the chance to change the subject, Marisa seemed to cheer up a little. "Anything new?"

"I've opened a small office in Darlinghurst."

"What sort of business?"

"A Tax Agency." She was obviously proud of her achievement.

"Adam's looking for someone to do his tax returns. I'll tell him when he gets back."

"I was hoping you would. So we can help each other."

"Is George still with that travel agency?"

"My baby brother will stay there until he dies. If only he could be more adventurous."

"George never took chances." Marisa knew it was an understatement. "He's my idea of a poor loser."

"Let's just say he's cautious." She instinctively defended her sibling.

"And how are Karen and Sid?" Marisa rinsed the coffee mugs. "Is he still in the Army?"

Denise pitched in to dry the saucers. "Sid's in Africa. Karen hopes he'll retire in June."

"He's still a young man!"

"Karen's staying with his mother and wants him out before any more overseas postings."

Marisa was shocked. "Sid can't stand his mother."

"They're saving for a deposit on a house." Denise looked sullen. "He's a real tightwad. I think their marriage is in trouble."

"I hope not. But he's a very active person. What's he going to do with himself?"

"He wants to teach physical education."

"Sid was always good at sports." Marisa put the clean mugs in the cupboard below the twin stainless steel sinks.

"If only George were." Denise sighed, then grinned. "He's become a couch potato."

Her friend was not surprised. "George is built a lot different to Sid."

"Look at the time." Denise wasn't prepared to debate George's anatomy. "I have to go, or be late for an appointment."

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