AN: Just a short intro to get the new story started. Imagine watching this take place then BAM! opening credits. The first chapter is already written.

Janice, who is a wonderful and faithful beta, actually inspired this story when I told her I wasn't entirely sold on any of my own ideas.

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Mike waved his flashlight over the shelves and shelves of dusty items, unimpressed. "What a load of junk," he pronounced.

"Dude, you haven't even looked at anything," admonished Evan, shining his light in the other direction. He was way too enthusiastic. "I bet there's jewelry and shit. And some of the stupidest stuff is worth money just cuz it's old."

They were in the basement of the unimaginatively named Tema Museum of Tema, Missouri. It was just a big old house that had been converted to a local history museum full of "treasures" like ancient arrows farmers had found and the kind of telephone that looked like a big box and grainy old black-and-white pictures. It had shortened its hours again and again until finally the backers gave up and closed it. Rumor had it that people were coming from some bigger museum to see if anything was worth taking.

Evan, whose grandmother had been a volunteer at the museum and still had a key, thought maybe he and Mike should take a look first. And by "take a look," he meant help themselves to whatever looked like it might actually be worth a few bucks.

With a disgusted snort, Mike started poking around at some old woodworking tools. "Even if we do find something, how are we supposed to sell it?" He opened a small box and sighed to find it full of vintage baby rattles, probably covered in lead paint. He knew that he should be nicer; Evan was just trying to help him out. Unlike Mike, Evan had a family, a future, and no need or desire to get out of their little town.

"One of us will get to the city one of these days and find a pawn shop," Evan answered confidently. "Whoa. Look at this crazy picture!"

But Mike didn't answer. He was busy staring in horror as the shadows appeared to peel themselves off the wall and floor and coalesce into a malevolent darkness that enveloped everything in its path, petrified by fear. Long needle-like protrusions slowly reached toward Mike and his shock was broken enough that he could move again. "Evan," Mike croaked. "Run!"

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AN: Tema, Missouri is not a real place.