Episode 2: "The Invitation"
885 Words
The week before Halloween passed slowly, wrapped in the gold and gray of late October. The Morgans tried settling into their new routines, but there was something strange in the air on Hemlock Lane—something that made the days feel shorter and the nights stretch on too long.
Rachel baked pumpkin bread for the first time in years. Daniel threw himself into repairs, though he noticed how the house seemed to resist change—nails bent the wrong way, paint wouldn’t dry, tools disappeared only to reappear where they’d already been. Lily, meanwhile, spent most of her time watching the neighborhood through her window, scribbling notes and drawing what she saw.
The Thornes visited often. Always at dusk.
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A Friendly Visit
One afternoon, Evelyn Thorne arrived with a long black garment bag. “For the party,” she said with a bright smile. “I thought your daughter might appreciate something… unique.”
Rachel thanked her, touched by the gesture, but Lily stared at the bag like it was hissing. “It looks expensive.”
Evelyn shrugged. “A gift. It’s been in the family for generations.”
Later, when Lily finally opened it, she found a vintage black velvet dress inside. Victorian style. Immaculately preserved. It smelled faintly of lavender and iron. The tag inside was marked with the initials L.M.—her own initials.
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The House on the Hill
While walking through the neighborhood later that week, Lily passed the Thornes’ house and noticed a delivery truck parked in the back. Curiosity got the better of her. She followed the path around the side of the mansion and peeked through a cracked gate.
Men were unloading large wooden crates—coffin-shaped, but covered with black velvet tarps. A butler stood by with gloved hands and a clipboard.
Lily stepped back quietly... and ran straight into Sebastian Thorne.
“Curious little thing, aren’t you?” he said, catching her by the shoulder.
She stammered an apology, but he just smiled—too wide. “No harm done. Curiosity is… natural. But there are places even residents shouldn’t wander.”
His grip tightened slightly before he let her go.
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The Halloween Party
October 31st arrived.
Fog rolled in thick and early that evening, swallowing up the town as though it were being erased. The Morgans dressed and made their way next door. The Thorne estate was unrecognizable. Dozens of black candles flickered in the windows. Guests in intricate costumes—ball gowns, opera cloaks, feathered masks—mingled in the candlelight, their voices like wind chimes, melodic and low.
Inside, the scent of wax and old wood filled the air. Everything looked ancient. Velvet drapes, faded tapestries, portraits of grim ancestors lining the staircase. One of them bore a striking resemblance to Daniel. Another looked exactly like Rachel—only in 19th-century clothing.
Lily said nothing.
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Strange Appetites
Waiters glided through the ballroom with silver trays of finger foods, but none of the neighbors were eating. Not one. The only people who took bites were the Morgans and a few other guests who looked as confused as they did. Visitors. Outsiders.
Lily wandered away from the crowd and slipped through a side door into a quiet corridor. The noise faded instantly behind her.
She followed the hall into the depths of the house until she found a room that was colder than the rest—lined with portraits. One for each household on Hemlock Lane. The odd thing? Each portrait was dated. Decades apart. Centuries apart. But the faces remained the same.
Lily reached for one dated 1891, depicting Mr. and Mrs. Thorne. Unaged. Identical to now.
Before she could react, the door creaked open behind her.
Evelyn stood in the doorway.
Her smile was calm, but her eyes glinted red in the candlelight. “You weren’t invited back here, dear.”
“I got lost,” Lily lied.
“I don’t think so.” Evelyn stepped into the room. “You’re sharper than the others. I knew you would be.”
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The Whispering Hall
Lily was led back to the party, Evelyn’s hand on her shoulder like a leash. As they entered the ballroom again, the clock struck eight.
All at once, the music stopped.
The guests—every neighbor—turned in unison to face the Morgans. Their smiles widened. Too wide.
Mr. Thorne raised his glass. “To our newest residents. May they feel right at home.”
The lights dimmed to near blackness.
Lily’s breath caught. She saw fangs.
Real ones.
The music resumed, more haunting now. Her parents, unaware of what she’d seen, laughed politely. But Lily knew.
They weren’t invited to a party.
They were being presented.
- Writer
