9/11 Alternate Ending

Chapter One: Moons Field Manor

The ghost flashed blue behind the dark, daunting mansion’s tangled sea of tattered sheer. Its wispy edges warped and twisted into a man-shaped shimmer of mist. But even before the drapes had dropped to the floor, it was gone in a ripple of gloom. I turned and saw my friend Seth stealthily tiptoeing sideways through the waist-high weeds. And something about his mysterious profile, gray eyes, or maybe the position of his baseball cap reminded me of a modern day Sherlock Holmes. “Seth did you see—” “The ghost, yeah!” he said. “Come on, Madison, let’s get the heck out of here!” “Wait a minute, I need to get a few of my facts straight first.” I whipped out, last year’s birthday present, a black 80 gigawatt mini digital

Then was cut short by a third man who limped toward me. “Those screams might be a trick. Some thief’s trying to draw us in so he can knock us out and take our wallets.” “I doubt it,” the man with the mustache replied. It was too dark to make out their features clearly, but all three wore blue-jeans and the man with the mustache had on cowboy boots, a shoestring necktie with a cowboy adjustable clip, and a large silver belt buckle, like a Wild West sheriff. Their attire was typical for the dwellers in Hallow Hill, which is in Clandestine Country. A generally pleasant place filled with thoughtful contemplation. Its rolling green meadows slope down to a babbling brook which twined through quiet neighborhoods fringed by bee-hung clover. But on the other side of tracks, the sense of serenity dissolved. The meandering stream became, a torrent river. And all at once the sun wasn’t quite as bright, the dust oppressive, and the measly sprigs of yellowed grass along its boundaries were somewhat ragged and forlorn. The first house on the left, after you cross the railroad ties is Moons Field Manor. Strange, unexplained things often happen here and the locals claim the house is