Drive, Bosco...Just Drive!
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"Now when the freak did this appear?!" cried Bosco, throwing his arms in the air. He circled the spot in frustration. When he stopped, he braced his hands on his hips and stared at Carlos.

The paramedic glanced at him, then turned and walked away. Bosco watched as he disappeared around the corner of the building, and when he was no longer in site, he quickly ran to catch up. Out front the fog had let up a bit, making visibility somewhat easier. He stopped next to Carlos and followed his gaze.

They were staring at a large, ominous structure created of stone and ivy. It stood three stories tall with a large, baroque chimney sticking up from the roof. One door was placed strategically in the middle of the house's face, a small lamp hovering over it's mantle. There was no doubt in either's mind that this was the house from Bobby and Jimmy's story.

Bosco looked at Carlos, who still hadn't said anything. "What?" he asked, dying to know what was going through his mind.

Carlos shivered, wrapped his arms around himself. "I don't even wanna get into why didn't see this," he finally said. "I think we should just get out of here."

*Creak*

The two men froze as the front door opened, revealing a tall elderly gentleman in an English Morning Suit. His slim figure barely made a slice into the light emanating from the hallway behind him- giving the impression of a man not really there.

Carlos drew in a sharp breath and clenched Bosco's arm between frightened fingers. "Oh, yeah. Let's get out of here," he whimpered, but unable to move his feet.

"You have come," said the voice from the doorway. "We have been expecting you."

Bosco swallowed hard, also unable to move from his statuesque position. "Expecting us?" he choked out. "How?How?How?How...how?" he asked, powerless to stop his mouth from speaking.

Carlos batted him in the back of the head, stopping the verbal diarrhea, and smiled sheepishly at the man in the doorway. "Actually, we really should be going," he said. "But it was nice meeting you."

Quickly, Carlos spun around ready to run for his life in the other direction. But once turned around, he froze in confusion.

The house, the one with the man in the doorway, was situated in his path. Carlos and Bosco both looked over their shoulders to where the house was supposed to be, and noticed an empty lawn delicately enveloped in fog. Together, they turned back to the man in the doorway.

"How'd you do that?" asked Bosco.

"Do what?" replied the man in a deadpan voice. He gestured towards the hall and stepped aside. "Now, if you would follow me," he continued.

Carlos looked at Bosco, his eyebrows raised and questioning. "What do ya think?" he asked.

"I say we go with him," replied Bosco, taking a tentative step forward.

But Carlos stayed where he was. "Why?" he asked skeptically.

Bosco didn't turn to look back at his friend, he merely answered over his shoulder. "Mainly because I'm afraid to turn around," he replied. "Cause if I do, and this house is there instead of here," he paused to point at the uninviting structure. "New York will be short one of it's finest, cause I'll have a freaking heart attack right here."

All too familiar with the mobile house, Carlos agreed with the logic and quickly joined Bosco. They stepped into the front hallway, but kept close together when the man closed the door behind them.

"The parlour is this way, gentlemen," droned the butler, turning to walk down the dimly lit hallway.

Bosco and Carlos followed closely behind, not really knowing what else to do. "Uh, about this expecting us," said Bosco, as they neared the base of a large staircase. "Why?"

The butler stopped, turned, and caught the front of Carlos as he crashed into him. Disgusted, the butler peeled the paramedic from his suit and wiped away the invisible dirt. "You are here to repair the electrical problem, are you not?" he asked, looking from one terrified face to another.

Bosco remembered this part of the story and his heart leapt into his throat. Bobby had mentioned something about this. That, and the fact that he'd never been able to find the fuse box. Bosco didn't know what to make of the situation, so he just nodded and decided to play along.

"Very well then," replied the butler. "I will let the others in the parlor know you are here, and then I'll let you change into some dry clothes before you get to work."

Bosco furrowed his brow. "Change our clothes?"

"You are covered in mud, sir," replied the butler. "The Whittler's would not like you traipsing about their home tracking mud through it. I suggest you change."

Bosco looked down at himself, and indeed he was still covered in mud from his earlier collision with the wall. "Oh, right," he said.

The butler shook his head and sighed before heading for the parlor. This left Bosco and Carlos alone in the foyer at the base of the staircase. Carlos looked over his shoulder, then turned back to his friend with a frown. "What electrical problem?" he asked, noting the lamps on the walls seemed to be working.

Bosco stepped back to survey the hall. The lights were all on. Dim, maybe, but on. "They weren't working in Jimmy and Bobby's story," he said, scratching his head.

"I think we should stop calling it a story now," replied Carlos. "It seems real to me."

Just as Bosco was about to respond, the butler returned and interrupted him. "This way," he said, leading Bosco towards the staircase.

But the officer hesitated. "Hold on a sec," he said, refusing to climb even one step. "We just noticed the lights were on. I thought you said there was an electrical problem?"

The butler drew in a exasperated breath and let it out slowly. "The main floor has been rectified, but the upstairs is still in darkness," he replied, rolling his eyes.

Bosco glanced up the inauspicious staircase, slowly raising his head as his eyes mentally climbed the steps. About halfway up, the rich crimson carpet and dark hardwood floors disappeared into blackness. There was obviously no light coming from the above floor.

"Oh, right," he replied, but still didn't move from his spot.

The butler noticed his hesitation, and apparently had no patience to waste with the youth, so instead of escorting him he pointed up the staircase. "Fourth room on your left, sir," he said. "You will find clothes in there."

Then the butler turned to Carlos. "You come with me, sir," he continued, leading the other youth towards the basement door under the staircase.

Carlos's eyes went wide as he pointed over his shoulder eagerly. "What? Can't I go with him? I don't wanna go to the basement!"

But the butler ignored his pleas and pushed him along.

Bosco, still staring up the disappearing staircase, swallowed hard and began his ascent. With each trepidascious step, Bosco chanted under his breath. "Not scared. Not scared. Not scared. Not scared." He paused when the floor board creaked heavily under foot. "Okay, a little scared."

For the rest of his ascent, Bosco found himself running. When he made it to the landing, he stopped abruptly and tried to make out his surroundings in the dark. With his arms held out before him, he slowly made his way to his left- feeling his way through the chasm.

It didn't take long for him to bump into a wall. He pushed himself off, and began again. This time more cautiously. He felt his away along the wall, his left hand tracing it's smooth surface while he waved his other hand trying to locate obstacles. A moment later Bosco found a door.

He remembered the butler saying 'fourth door on his left', so he continued on.

The hall was not only pitch black, but it was silent. The only noise coming from Bosco's ragged breaths, and the soft footfalls of his feet on the thick carpet. But in the distance, he could sense something was there. He wasn't sure what, but he was sure he didn't want to find out.

He picked up his pace, desperately hoping to find the room soon. But speeding up was not the best idea. For when he collided with the large window at the end of the hall, the impact was that much more painful... Not to mention loud.

The glass reverberated a low hum throughout the hallway as Bosco pulled back. "That's it!" he said, rubbing his forehead. "I'm leaving. This is ridiculous." He reached for the wall he had been following, but this time with his right hand so he could follow it back, but it was no longer there.

Bosco spent several seconds trying to re-locate the wall, but with no success. His heart pounding, he decided to just go for it. He took a deep breath and ran straight into the darkness, hoping to eventually find the staircase again.

But with the way things had been going for him, he should've known not to do that.

Another wall.

Another bruise to the forehead.

Bosco lay sprawled on the ground, whimpering and cursing the day when he felt a hand on his knee. He sat up abruptly to find a young woman in a white chiffon gown holding a candle. She was crouched at his feet, one hand on his knee, and the door to a room open behind her.

"Let me help you up," she said, offering her hand.

Bosco took it hesitantly, and let the woman help him to his feet. When she released her grip, Bosco felt his hand tingle. Not from electricity, but from cold. His fingers felt numb, and he had to shake his hand to get the blood pumping again.

"Thank you," he said. He looked over her shoulder into the room, noting it's illumination. "I see you have electricity in there," he continued, returning his gaze to the woman.

"I must go now," she replied, stepping back into the room.

But just as the door was about to close, Bosco put his foot out to stop it. "No, wait!" he pleaded, but too late. The door closed shut with a force strong enough to knock Bosco's foot back.

He stumbled, then regained his footing. He approached the door again and knocked. There was a beautiful woman on the other side, and the cop wanted one thing out of her... directions to the front door.

He pounded for what seemed like an eternity, then gave up when no answer came. Finally, he shrugged and gripped the doorknob. "Here goes nothing," he said, pushing the door open.

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(Read on...Please.)