One Dark and Stormy Night

Jason Phelps was tired and feeling more and more afraid as he walking to the gates of an old fortress. Storm clouds were gathering and he could hear the thunder getting closer and closer. He was hoping that someone would be there so he could get something to eat and have a warm place to lay down for awhile.
Jason didn't know how long he'd been walking. In fact, he doesn't remember anything before he woke up in the woods alone. And he couldn't remember when that was. He felt so alone.
Jason did remember that he hadn't seen anyone on the path or in the countryside. He was not familiar with any of the landscape. Nothing looked familiar to him. It was as if he was just born.

Nellie James is sitting alone near a fireplace holding a charcoal drawing. It was the last day of October; and the weather had been unusually warm all month. So much so, she still hadn't harvested all her tomatoes yet. Tears are streaming down her face.
"I saw him again today, Nellie said as her husband Jack walked through the door.
Jack was stumped by the sudden change in his wife ever since she found a book of drawings while cleaning out the attic last week.
"Those drawings are at least a hundred years old, he said. "Why are you carrying so?
"I don't know, Nellie said. "I just know I saw him and I wasn't dreaming this time. He was standing in the back yard while I was picking tomatoes. I called to him, but he just ran away.
"I just don't understand why you are so upset, he said.
"I don't know either. I just know that I feel so very sad whenever I look through them. This one especially, she said as she held the drawing up for Jack to see.
Jack stepped a little closer, squinted his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.
"Why, that looks like a child's drawing for goodness sake woman, he said completely perplexed as he turned to go outside to finish chopping wood.
"He's my child, Nellie whispered to herself as her eyes welled up fresh tears.
She and Jack never had children but she knew the child who drew the picture she was holding 100 years ago, was her child. She just knew it. She didn't understand it yet, but she knew it all the same.

As Jason walked through the gate, the path within the fortress seemed to change. It was getting longer and it was moving. He looked around but couldn't see anyone, but he sensed someone was there. He walked to a small building to the right. He thought he saw someone move.
Jason stood very still.
"Is anyone here, he said.
Just then a big thunder clap echoed throughout the fortress and sheets of lightning enveloped the buildings in an eerie light.
"He's here, someone said in a low whisper. Then other voices chimed in. "He's here.
A tattered old man walked out of the door and took Jason's hand.
"Come, my little one, come with me and get warm. You've been expected, the man said.
The cold wind, rain, and exhaustion was just too much for Jason so he followed the man to one of the buildings.
"What is this place? he asked.
"Oh, this is a special place for people like you, the man said.
Jason started to pull away but the man held his hand in a vice like grip.
"Come on, the man said.

The man pulled Jason into the building. It had a fire but that was the only thing that was warm about the place. Though a few candles were lit, the place was dank and dark and had the smell of decay.
Jason could hear the faint screams of many people but couldn't tell where they were coming from.
"Welcome to Farthington Prison, the man said. "Well, it used to be about a hundred years ago anyway. "The prison was built on haunted land, where murdered people go so they can get even with their murderer each year on ole hollow's eve, he explained. "On this night, at one stroke after midnight, you will confront your murderer.
"Come on boy, don't you remember, you've done this many, many times before,
There was a glint of recognition in Jason's eyes.
"Mom, he said with a smile.
The man smiled and nodded in the affirmative.
"Soon, the dead will possess a human and the confrontation shall commence, yet again, the man said.

Jack was busy chopping wood when he saw a shadow of a woman run past the old well on the farm. He put the ax down and peered through the encroaching dusk. Suddenly, he saw it again. It appeared to be beckoning to him.
Curious, he decided to investigate. The shadow leads him to the older part of the farm to an old stone gate. He started to pass through when he tripped over something. Jack bent down and with some struggle, edged the something out of the dirt and dusted it off.
At first glance, Jack thought they were animal bones. Then as he inspected it further, he saw the skull of a child. He bent down again and found a leg bone.
"I wonder who he is. Jack said. "I hope this farm wasn't built on top of a cemetery, he said looking around as if expecting to see ghosts.
He knew the old farm was nearly more then a century old but didn't know much about the history of the place.
He took the pieces of bones and started walking toward the house.
Nellie had decided to see if she could find more drawings in the attic. She opened an old battered wooden trunk. As she opened the trunk, she felt a cold wind that seemed to go right through her and she thought she heard a woman's laugh.
"Ah, I'm just spooked is all. It is Halloween, she thought.
She reached into the trunk and pulled out a notebook of sorts.
"It's a diary, she said.
She carefully dusted off the cover. Nellie could just make out the deeply etched name on the bottom right side of the cover..
Katherine Phelps.
She carefully turned the pages and suddenly stopped to read the page for January 3rd, 1799.
"I will surely burn in hell for what I have done, was all she could read. The rest of the page looked as if they were stained by tears.
"And so you shall, came a voice behind her.

Jack rushed up the stairs after hearing his wife screams and found her dead. She was so pale and her face was twisted in a horrible mixture of fright and surprise.

"She's here, the voices said.