Jenna

But I knew.

That laugh was like a bolt of sunlight escaping..And I knew with great saddness,that I had not the power or personality to ever cause her to laugh in such a way.Much less smile with such genuine intent.

So I did what I am now doing...I sulked and pouted and hid myself away in this crypt behind the house where they were all having the time of thier lives.

I ignored Jennas pleas to stay with her ...Glenn and Shannon drunk and trying to reason with me..

I ignored Brian ..so brave and compassionate trying to pick my brain and find out what was wrong...

I ignored Jennas refusal to leave the safety of the car as I walked deeper into the woods to find this place.

I hear them screaming now..

Brain and Glenn touring room to room in that great mansion..leaping from shadows with flashlights..Telling stories of madness and murder..Pulling out of these girls every scream possible.Hearing them whine and cry and grip them tight enough to stretch and mangle their clothes.

I could only think of my love for Jenna amidst their howls and feigned tortured shouts for help within those walls.

My love for her filled my every thought.It had been that way since I first saw her.But to my own disgust I was a loser.I fell short in talking,athletics,humor,and looks.My confidence was simply drawn from the others in the group,but truthfully,I knew I was only a shadow that bounced back the laughter they seeked and the attention they needed.The problem was that this was my only usefullness to them.But it was because of the masculine friends I had that Jenna seemed remotely interested in me.She agreed to come tonight with me because they would be included.I only felt the need to be close to her and know that she would need me to protect her against the legends of this LeBeau house.

The LeBeau House..

A grey and filthy stump of what it must have been some time ago.Hid among these swamp lands and overgrown with mold and fungus.Warped plywood covering the windows and doors as if to shut up the secrets within.

Stories from the brave say there are footprints pressed into dried blood stains that mark the floors.

Some say there are crazy cryptic writings carved into the interior woodwork. We've been told to never look into any of the homes crusty mirrors should we dare to go in.Imaginations and wives tales abounded.

Built,in legend of course, by some eccentric rich madman, William LeBeau..a ships captain who some say was into witchcraft or torture.No matter who he was, his legend continues with the house.

As the stories tend to change from generation to generation to become more twisted and gorier than those of the generation before..No single person can give any truth to the history of the torn and shattered home.Stories abound of zombies and vampires.Sighting of ghosts and apparitions within the grounds.Noises of moans and footsteps.Disappearing unwary hunters and children who ventured near the property too close to dark.It was gated after its last owners were there one day and gone the next.Turned to ghouls.Forever to walk that unholy ground.