Prologue

September 24, 1986

Mark Hughes wasn't sure what to expect from the Hathorne Mansion. As far as he could tell, it was just a large, imposing house, built to resemble a castle. The years had weathered the stone. There were many broken windows, mostly on the first floor and the porch was in a sorry state. There were two turrets on the mansion, and ivy crept up them. It wasn't a place that most people went out of their way to visit.

I really hope that Joel and the others are all right...

Joel Thomas, a close friend and mentor of his, had been fascinated with the Hathorne family for years. He was a famous writer, and he'd written a history of the Hathornes that had stayed on the top of the bestseller list for months. But Joel's true passion was the paranormal. He loved reading up on supernatural phenomenon, and most especially, he loved to hunt for ghosts.

So it was no surprise to Mark when Joel called him from a train station on August 20 and told him that he was moving to the Hathorne Mansion.

"Are you sure about it, Joel?"

"Positive!" Joel crowed, "There are hundreds of ghost hunters who have taken EVP on the grounds, but they all refuse to go inside. An associate of mine tells me that one ghost hunter went in there alone and they found his mangled body outside. So no one goes in."

"You're not going in there alone, are you?" Mark asked, alarmed.

"Of course not. I have my assistant, Cassie Gray, with me. And the editor of the magazine dealing with the paranormal that I contribute to, Kevin Ward."

"Oh." This wasn't reassuring, somehow.

"I'll call you when we get settled in and when we get a phone line in there. Our train's leaving, though, I gotta go."

"Okay," Mark said, "Take care."

Then Joel hung up.

Three days went by and Mark didn't hear anything from Joel. Then four days, then five days, then a week. One day, his younger sister, Michelle, came home from school with the mail in hand.

"Anything from Joel?" Mark asked. Michelle shook her head. "No."

His heart sank, and he felt a growing suspicion that something was terribly wrong.

After a month, Mark began to worry. No one had heard anything from Joel Thomas, his assistant, or his editor. Even the newspapers were beginning to speculate on his whereabouts.

FAMOUS AUTHOR MISSING

Star author Joel Thomas was reported missing by his stepdaughter early this morning. He has not been seen or heard from since August 20, when he told his daughter he would be moving into the Hathorne Mansion to do some research for his next book, which was presumably going to be about the alleged ghostly phenomenon that occurs in the mansion and on the grounds. Mr. Thomas had promised his stepdaughter he would call as soon as he was able to get a phone line into the mansion.

Accompanying Mr. Thomas were his assistant, Cassie Gray, and Kevin Ward, the editor of "Unnatural Phenomenon" magazine. Ms. Gray and Mr. Ward are also missing and family members

CONTINUED ON PAGE A2

Mark shook his head. There was something very, very wrong with this.

The morning of September 24th, he gathered up his notebook and newspaper clippings, as well as a flashlight and headed for his car. He was determined to find out exactly what had happened to his friend. He passed a storage closet and paused. For some reason, he felt drawn to it. Opening it, he discovered his mother's antique camera sitting on the center shelf. He took it on a whim.

Now, as he was entering the mansion, he felt a sense of apprehension. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea. It loomed over him, beckoned him in...

Mark pushed the double doors at the entrance open, marveling at how easy it was to do so even though the doors probably hadn't been opened for a hundred years and he doubted that Joel had oiled them. He took a deep breath and walked in, shining the flashlight through the room. He was in some kind of foyer...faded paintings hung on the walls and there was a large brass chandelier over his head. He cautiously proceeded through the entrance, taking a door to his left.

What Mark saw in that hallway sent chills down his spine. There were ropes suspended from the ceiling and a mirror on one wall...was this some kind of recreation room? Mark shuddered, and moved to walk...but stopped dead in his tracks.

Joel Thomas was walking down the hallway, just ahead of him, and he vanished around a corner. Mark chased him. "Joel! Wait!"

He passed the mirror and turned the corner, ignoring the ropes that hit him. There was a door there, and he hastily pulled it open and hurried in.

This room was some kind of parlor. There was a fireplace on one wall, a piano in one corner of the room, a faded rug on the floor, a card table and chairs...all covered with at least six inches of dust and all in need of repairs. There was a staircase and a balcony on the opposite end of the room. Mark cautiously approached it. Suddenly, a man appeared on the balcony, facing Mark, and he looked down. Mark recognized the man at once. "Joel?"

Before he could come any closer, the apparition vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

Something is very wrong about all of this...

Mark didn't hesitate. He ran up the stairs and onto the balcony. There was a notebook there...

GHOSTS OF HATHORNE MANSION- NOTES

PROPERTY OF JOEL THOMAS

Mark bent down and picked up the notebook...

He saw, in his mind's eye, Cassie, Joel, and Kevin cautiously walking down the hall with ropes dangling from the ceiling. At least one thousand hands reached for them...and as though sensing their presence, Joel quickly turned around.

Seeing nothing, he slowly turned around and caught up with his companions.

Mark shivered. The stairs creaked behind him...was someone coming up?

"Joel? Hey, Joel?"

Creak...creak...

He stood up and turned around.

"Who's there?"

Creeak...

"Joel, this isn't funny! If it's you, say so!"

A pitiful moan was the only answer he got. Without thinking, Mark pulled the camera out of his bag and put it to his face.

There was a spirit of a man bound with ropes staggering toward him..or, rather, the spirit of what was left of a man. Mark panicked and took a picture just as the thing lunged at him. It was sent hurtling backwards...and then it simply vanished. Mark lowered the camera.

"What...was that?" he whispered, half-expecting an answer. But all remained still He slowly walked down the stairs and headed for the door across the room. This is a good start, he thought, So maybe--

"Where are YOU going?" demanded an icy, female voice that sent chills down Mark's spine. He sensed a sinister presence behind him,and he didn't dare look behind him. Instead, he broke into a run. Amazingly, the door to the rope hallway was open, and he charged out, trying to escape the presence, ignoring the ropes that smacked against his face...

And then he felt as if he had been grabbed by a thousand hands...