Episode 1: Zach

Zach took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock on the door. He wasn't exactly sure what had drawn him to the old Chandler Mansion, at least not until the door opened and an attractive woman stood before him, looking at him curiously.

"May I help you?" The woman asked.

His throat was painfully tight. Words failed him. His eyes moved from hers, over her shoulder, and into the house and beyond the foyer, right through to the living room. He hadn't seen the inside of the mansion since the night JR stole away his happiness and it was a shock to his system. He felt like someone had gone and sucker-punched him. It took a moment for him to realize the woman was talking to him.

"Well, my realtor did warn me there might be some lookie-loos coming around here to try to sneak a peek at the place," the woman said with an elongated sigh. "I guess I can't say I blame you for being curious about the colorful history of this house, but this is private property, and I am asking you to vacate the premises before I call the police."

Zach stiffened, yanked back to the present. "Colorful history is certainly one way to put it," he said. "People were murdered here, drowning in their own blood as their loved ones stood helplessly by, unable to do anything to stop the inevitable."

"Excuse me -" she started.

He cut her off. "The sound of shattering glass and piercing screams, the smell of gun smoke and fear that filled the air, and the pervading sense of hopelessness and doom that surrounded everything... no, no. 'Colorful' doesn't begin to describe the history of this hellish place."

The woman cocked her head to the side. "You speak like you have intimate knowledge of what happened here."

Zach frowned. "Unfortunately, I do. I was here the night JR Chandler took a gun in hand and decided to play God with people's lives."

Her dark eyes went impossibly wide. "I'm - I'm sorry," she murmured.

Zach shook his head. "I am not looking for your sympathies, Miss -"

"Forbes. Desiree Forbes."

"Miss Forbes," Zach said. "I am looking for answers."

"What sort of answers?" She asked.

"I want to know what sort of ghoulish person buys a house of horrors like this. What do you want with it?" Zach asked suspiciously.

Desiree grimaced. "Look, Mister -"

"Zach," he said. He didn't offer his last name. He wasn't looking to get acquainted with her, to be neighborly, to make friends.

"Zach," she said. "I've heard some of the stories about what happened that night and I truly am sympathetic to your plight. I feel for everyone who lost their lives and everyone who was left behind to pick up the pieces. I can't imagine what you must have endured, but the simple truth is, I was looking to set up shop in a small town and this place was the right price. That may all sound very mercenary to you, but it's the truth."

"They may just be 'stories' to you, but it's the stark reality my friends and I, the people left behind, have to live with every single day."

"I understand that..."

"Are you really going to try to tell me you couldn't find something else in your price range? Something without the stench of rot that permeates this place?"

She sighed. "I am sympathetic to-"

"You already said that."

"I did because it's true. But I also don't owe you an explanation or any apologies. We're strangers to each other. Besides, maybe there is some light at the end of this long tunnel. I want to open up this place and breathe new life into it, chase out the darkness that has cloaked it for so long. Give it a ... cleansing... if you will. It could be a new beginning for everybody in this town."

"This house will always be a symbol of JR Chandler's destruction. Slapping a new coat of paint on the walls and rearranging some furniture won't change what it represents."

"You're being quite hostile. Should I expect that you're going to make my life in Pine Valley difficult just because of where I choose to live?"

Zach didn't answer her question. Instead, he said, "Miss Forbes, I want you to try to understand what JR did. He laid in wait on a night when people were celebrating the simple joy of living, with their friends and loved ones. There was happiness and goodwill in our hearts, and he couldn't stand to see it, so he cocked his gun, put his finger on the trigger, and started spraying bullets into the room. There were terrified screams and blood poured onto the ground as husbands and wives, and fathers and mothers used their own bodies as shields to protect their families from the flying bullets. After, there was silence for a moment, for just a moment. Then the smoke cleared, and you could see nothing but carnage. It was a nightmare. One no one can seem to wake up from."

He continued, "People lost their lives. A friend of mine is paralyzed. And -" he swallowed hard over the lump in his throat - "my wife Kendall is in a coma the doctors say she will likely never come out of. So, I hope when you're looking around at your acquisition, happy about how you scored it for pennies on the dollar, you know that it comes with a terrible price tag attached."