As soon as Steve set foot inside the threshold of the home, the darkened interior suddenly flared into a warm, yellow glow – a light that seemed to come from nowhere, but flickered dimly as though the walls or ceiling of the house had somehow been set aflame with invisible fire.
The family exchanged nervous glances with on another but continued wordlessly into the house.
Suddenly a hoarse, croaking voice called out from the next room: “After all this time – visitors!”
Steve froze in his tracks and the rest of family behind him followed suit.
From a darkened room beyond the cavernous entrance hall, a tiny hunched back figure hobbled into the room. She was a withered old woman with a tangled nest of long, thin, silver-white hair. Clothed in tattered rags, the woman shuffled along slowly with the aid of a gnarled, wooden walking stick.
“I... I'm sorry, ma'am,” stuttered Steve. “We didn't mean to intrude. Our... uh... our car had a flat just outside and... we didn't mean any harm. We just... if you have a phone, maybe we could call for... y'know, a tow or... or something...”
Standing right behind Steve, Janet gripped her husband's hand tightly with fear. With her other hand, she restrained Alan and Megan from coming any closer to the old crone. The entire family had an eerie sense of impending dread about this strange woman.
“Don't be frightened,” cackled the hag, somehow sensing their collective distress. “I get so lonely here. And the four of you are... just... perfect for what I need.”
“Steve, let's just leave!” whispered Janet urgently.
But before anyone in the family could move, the old crone swiftly lifted her walking stick into the air, pointed it directly at the group, and... something happened!