For more years than I could count, there has been a mysterious occurrence which has taken place every Halloween night at the McGuire Mansion. Rumors about this unfathomable household have been passed down from generation to generation. Every year on Halloween Eve, the mayor hosts a grand celebration, with the main intention of retelling the ancient anecdote of the McGuire Mansion mystique.  
        The story goes as follows: Once upon a midnight dreary, on a fateful Halloween night, there came a clamor from the McGuire mansion. Nauseating screams came bursting out from the foreboding inside of the ramshackle manor. Masses came from contrasting directions. Most embellished in explicit garb. Innumerable individuals hammered at the hazy glass door, desiring to aid the elderly duo who maintained the wrecked establishment. Nevertheless not a soul could undo the doorway, which had been fastened together by the caretakers. Still today, no one can penetrate through the intimate security that had been set there by the elderly housekeepers before they mysteriously vanished. 
        One hundred and thirty three years have come and gone since that devastating night. The world has advanced so much since then. Telephones the size of your hand and computers that are the size of a storage tote are now available wherever appliances are sold. Yet, though there has been fabulous growth in the rest of the world, my little town has not moved an inch. We are still situated in the middle of nowhere. None have relocated out of our town, and no one has reappeared.  
         My name is Meranda McGuire. I am a direct descendant of the McGuires. I am the only heir to the McGuire fortune, ever since my parents died of an inexplicable disease at the young age of thirty-three. Eerily, the exact same way, my great grandparents and grandparents died years ago. My entire family has had the same curse ever since we came here, each of us dying at the age of thirty-three. 
         Alas, my thirty-third birthday is forthcoming faster than I'd like. I only have seven months before I will reach the dreaded age. I dread the day when the sun will rise and my body shall instantly be smothered in abrasions and my insides broken with lesions. Then within the next month, I shall painfully pass away.  
Everyone in my town is mindful of the curse, and they are wary about being too close to me. But they still are very compassionate and neighborly towards me. It is very nice to have my neighbors who don’t judge. I don't know what I would do if they didn’t accepted me.  
        The McGuire establishment has been closed off to anyone and everyone since the day the blood curdling screams were heard. Many investigations have taken place, but no one has been able to penetrate inside. Test after test has taken place. Today, is one of those test days, and I was requested to come along. This time, we are going to be trying to infiltrate the mansion from the rear. 
On the backside of the McGuire household, there is a rickety staircase, a tattered brown porch, and a foggy glass door identical to the one in the front side of the building. The lawn was nicely cut and the flower garden was in full bloom. There was a few willow trees which provided shade to us while we hunted down a way to get inside.  
       After three hours of no luck, it was break time. Everyone sat down to eat their peanut butter and salmon sandwiches. As I sat down on the soft green grass, I concentrated my eye on the house. My gut telling me that I was missing something that was right in front of my eye.  
           With my eyes closed, and my senses aware of my surroundings, I carefully clambered up the staircase and over the porch. I continued to wander about until my right palm impacted something unusually soft. I unfastened my eyes to see that I was staring dead straight into a black hole. The black hole seemed to call to me.  I was entranced.  
            My weakened body continued to creep towards the black hole. The other workers were bellowing my name furiously, but I could not make out what they were saying. The only thing I could hear was the black hole vociferating my name. I continued to sluggishly crawl forward, now forced to my hands and knees from the pressure of my coworkers trying to wrench me back. Their attempts were useless. My convulsing body was in a non-retractable spell. All I could see, hear, feel, smell, and taste was pitch black.  
      My body was numb and my mind blank. I was losing consciousness. My eyelids began to droop. I was out like a light, before anyone could even say mummy.  
  Chapter Ends  
  Chapter Two

       I was awoken by a scurry of creepy crawlies crawling on my face, my arms, my chest, my legs, and my feet. My body felt like I had just swooned off of a thirty three foot building. My limbs were trussed to the cold granite table that I was laying on. My eyelashes gently fluttered against the skin under my green blue eyes as I cleared my head. I willed myself to rise off the table and explore my surroundings.
        Upon opening my eyes I found myself at the bottom of a rusty spiral staircase. In response to the change of scenery, a muffled cry rang out from my dry mouth and faded into the malevolent hallway. The untrustworthy staircase sat inviting me to clamber up and up, into the forlorn garrett. As I crept noiselessly up the stairs, I could feel the rapid pounding of my stressed heart against my fragile rib cage. With every solemn step I took, the frail and cracked steps creaked under my weight. I was careful not to lean too heavily on the rickety wooden handrail, fearful of what might happen if it was to fracture, leading me to a harrowing plunge down to the pale-tired floor.
After a few more heedful steps, I reached the grubby loft. A few knick knacks lay here and there; many of the artifacts looked like Egyptian antiques. Dust rudely lay upon the stiff statues of black cats and dogs with gold collars. Egyptian gods, carved from greywacke, watched my every move.
           Spider webs clung to the ceiling for dear life. Sweeping my eyes around the large expanse, my attention was snapped by two polished coffins. Forbidden memories flashed in front of my eyes as I rewatched the mutilated bodies of my parents being circumstantially tossed out of their coffins. Ever since that unfortunate occurrence, I have harbored no interest in coffins or what lays inside them.
       The two coffins, which lay in wait ahead of me, were covered in gold foil. The second sarcophagus appeared to be unbolted. Walking closer to investigate, I imagined that the lid was opening up even more with each and every step I took. Frightened, I began to back away cautiously. Yet, with each step I took the lid would unfasten further. Sweat rolled down my back as I made contact with the grungy wall behind me.
Chapter Ends