Tonight is first night I spend in the creepy old Freeman house. Andrew bet me I couldn’t stay there a whole night. If I live through the night I get to keep the house, but if I’m dead in the morning, he gets the mp3 player in my van.

In preparation for tonight I called GRU and had them shut off the wall blood; all cooking utensils, axes, chain saws, box cutters, pencils and assorted stabby instruments have been safely stored away; I packed up my old reel to reel with tapes of strangers reading the Necronomicon; along the walls all candle holders were twisted and all protruding stones nudged revealing no secret passageways; I confirmed that when they moved the cemetary the house was built on that the caskets had the bodies in them (cheap cemetary movers can be careless); and, as always, we applied the basic zombie-proofing treatments.

I’ll tell you how it went in the morning.

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