A teen who takes on the emotions of those around him. A child that sees visions of events to come. A loving, devoted father and husband who seems to become a totally different person overnight. An older brother who knows something is not quite right...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
St. Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle.
Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the Devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray,
and do thou,
O Prince of the heavenly hosts,
by the power of God,
thrust into hell Satan,
and all the evil spirits,
who prowl about the world
seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.
(Prayer of St. Michael)
Chapter 1
Will and Donna Colt met in high school and married a year after graduation. Both had been born and raised in Lincoln, Nebraska and decided it would be a good place to raise their own family.
Donna, the younger of two girls, had always dreamed of having a large household. Will, having shared a bedroom with an older brother and two younger ones most of his life, also wanted a big family but wanted to make sure they had plenty of room for all of them. He had always felt as though he and his brothers were smothering one another in the close corners of the small two bedroom wood frame house he grew up in. He wanted his own children to enjoy one another's company, yet have the space to do their own things. It was this desire that lead them to a large, three-story simple white Neoclassical Revival style house on Brown Street.
Donna was amazed. It would have plenty of room for a big family with extra space to spare. She could already imagine sitting on the porch swing with a baby in her arms, as the birds sang and fluttered around the tall Serviceberry tree that stood near the porch. The house sat on a nice lot and shared part of its lawn with the one next door. From the outside view, they were very interested in purchasing. Will took down the telephone number from the sign out front, and they decided to go to a nearby diner and give the owner a call. As luck would have it, the man was able to meet with them that very afternoon.
Donna wasn't sure what she was expecting but the man getting out of the hunter green Ford pickup truck wasn't it. He was at least seventy years old with a slick, bald head that reflected the bright sunlight off of the top of it. Wearing a black suit and tie, he looked as though he had just run out in the middle of a wedding. The man parked his truck in the street and slowly begun his walk to the front porch, stopping every few seconds to gaze up at the house before continuing on his way.
Finally in front of the concrete porch the man extended his hand and introduced himself, "Nice to meet you folks. I am Ronald Crowe. I bought this house a while back, hoping to live out the rest of my days here but it was not to be." He said, glancing toward the windows near the door. "Anyway, my boys did a lot of work on the place."
