The Carving

But all was not right in the house of the Caddys. Soft whisperings could be heard when the house was under the spell of slumber, the walls moved and the paintings sighed as one when none of the household watched. Some believed the house was a common meeting point for the spirits of the long gone as they came from different time periods and whispered secrets to one another. A hushed scream muffled by a soft cry from another would be heart late at night if one listened closely. All the while the house was sleeping...

Babies and small infants were not permitted within the house's walls as everytime they crossed the threshold, they immediately began crying and calling for their family. This did not bother the Caddys as they were people who seldom wished to be bothered. They would potter around the house during a dull winter's day muttering seemingly to themselves as they went about peculiar businesses. One clanging pots and pans, another hugging the moth eaten hallway carpet and a third walking in circles rasping tales of woe to the ceiling. The surrounding neighbourhood thought this family as very very odd. So odd as to be escaped inhabitents of an insane asylum seeking refuge in an innocent part of the country.

The house itself was somewhat of a piece of outdated terror. Marked by the sagging wooden turret in the northern corner of the mansion, the entire structure looked as if a grotesque 3-year old had mashed the individual sections together into a large rambling moldy construction worthy of a good bulldoze. However it was not the mansion that inspired terror into the indivduals who looked upon it, it was instead the large carved face imposed upon the front wooden door of the house that glared at passersby with accusing eyes...

(Gothic Beginning)