Prologue

"My name is General John MacNamara of the United States Military." he said as he pulled a chair into the sliver of morning sunlight filtering in through the window. It was the only light in the darkened basement, but it was nice and dramatic, just the way he liked it. He could see the silhouettes of the others gather around him hoping for answers.
He put a foot up on the seat of the chair and lit a fresh cigarette. Taking a long pull off of it, he let the tendrils of smoke billow and curl in the beam of light as he exhaled. His eyes darted from one face to the next gauging their readiness to listen. Good, he had their attention now.

"Of all the dimensions in this or any other Universe, there is one that reaches across all realities known as The Veil. It is here where all spirits - ghosts, if you prefer – are tethered to. Unable to leave, their very existence straddles this plane and yet they can never touch it. Until today, the Power that claims dominion over The Veil has never been able to pierce it to enter our world. Now it seems 'The Whisper' has found just the right ear to bend to its will."

He took another long drag of his cigarette and walked the circle of people, looking each one in the eyes before stopping in front of one person in particular.
"Your sister, Emma. Jane is the conduit through which 'The Whisper' has chosen to travel to this world. And now, our only hope is to shake the parasite loose from the host and restore the balance and order of the Universe. But in order to do that . . . we're going to have to wake the dead."

24 HOURS EARLIER

"This is the last box, Dad!" said Tim to his father, Tom Houston.

"Good job, son! Go ahead and put it in the truck" he responded with a ruffle of his hair. Tim nodded and ran out the garage door with his box with the word 'JANE' marked on the side.

Tom looked back at the empty house recalling memories of his life there. It had been his parent's home and where he had grown up.
He thought of himself as a kid and how he would run from room to room pretending to be a superhero with a cape and a mask. He thought of when he was a teenager how he would sneak out of the house through the dining room window to see Becky. He recalled how his mother cried when he told her he had enlisted. When he came back after his first tour to find Becky had married some dirt-bag. He remembered meeting Jane and falling in love again. He thought back to their wedding in the backyard. How he told her he was being deployed again and how she told him they were going to have a baby. His eyes welled up as he remembered coming home to his wife and to meet his son for the first time as a toddler of 3 years old. A tear rolled down his cheek as he remembered - Flash! Bang! - the accident that had claimed the life of his wife but spared his son. The accident he caused.

"Whoa!" a light feminine voice cried from just outside the doorway snapping Tom away from his thoughts. "Oh, I'll take that." it said.

"Are you sure?" he heard Tim ask.

"Yeah, I got it. Can you make sure that everything is tied down really good?"

"Sure!"

A beautiful red head popped her head in through the door. "Is that everything?"

"Becky!" Tom said startled and covertly wiped away the tear. "What are you doing? You shouldn't be lifting anything!" he said and took the box from her and set it on the ground. On the way up he put his hands on her very pregnant belly and kissed it, and then her tenderly.

"Oh, Tom. Can you believe it? It's finally happening! With my promotion at the hospital and you teaching again, well . . . we always said we'd buy that house didn't we?"

"Yeah Babe, we did. We did it. Together." he kissed her in earnest. Tom never thought he could bring himself to be this happy again. He looked back toward the emptiness searching for one last happy memory but all that came to him was – Flash! Bang!

Tim came running back through the garage. "I checked the ropes, Becky."

"Are we good to go?" she asked him with a smile.

Tim nodded excitedly.

Tom, Becky, and Tim all exchanged excited looks. "Alright. Then let's do it!" said Tom.

All three of them turned and left through the garage door for the very last time closing the door behind them. They all climbed into the truck that Tom was able to buy after he sold the 1986 Foxbody Mustang to Tony Green's collector buddy, and they headed for the outskirts of town to one of the oldest neighborhoods in Hatchetfield. A neighborhood with large houses on even bigger plots of land, and sprawling backyards that went right up to the edge of Witchwood Forest.

They had brought Tim with them to tour the house as soon as they heard it was for sale. Tim loved the fact the woods were so close and made his father promise to build him a tree house if they bought it. There was a giant oak tree right on the property line that was perfect for it. Tom inspected it and patted the trunk with a firm hand.

"Yeah." Tom said half to Tim and half to himself. He looked at his son and smiled. "With the huge garage I can set up my tools and have a proper workshop. I can teach you how to use my band saw. What do you think Becks?" he turned to her and nudged her shoulder playfully as he found her staring up at the tree. "Eh? Nice big tree house?"

Becky looked at the high up branches and shuddered. But she recovered with a large smile and cheerily said, "Oh, I think I'll leave the tree climbing to my boys!"

They made an offer that very day which went uncontested and a short three weeks later escrow closed and their new life awaited them. As they left toward that new life, none of them had remembered to pick up the last box marked 'JANE' where it sat near the door.
So nobody was around when the tape peeled itself off of the box flaps and the top popped open. Or see the eerie violet glow that emanated from inside.
Nobody was around to hear the weeping that echoed off the bare walls of empty rooms.
Nobody was around to see Jane's ghostly form looking out the window watching her family drive away with another woman.