They're all dead, taken away by a being I cannot even begin to comprehend.

We were just joking around and laughing about anything and everything.

To think, this all started because of a stupid piece of wood that used to belong to my grandma's

more than I can take. She warned me not to use it, but I ignored her. And because of that,

my three best friends are dead. Looking at my grandma, one would never expect that she'd ever been

interested in the occult and mystical. On the surface, she was just a sweet old woman,

handing out candy, cakes, and coffee to anyone that visited. She wouldn't hurt a fly.

And that's not just a metaphor. I mean, she literally would catch flies and release them back

outside before buying a swatter. Still, during my last visit, I took the opportunity to go through

all the old stuff stashed away in the attic. I found my old childhood toys brought there after

my parents died. Rather than throwing it away or selling it, she thought it would be nice

to keep it for the day I myself eventually had children. There were a few of my grandparents

stuff as well, old movies, magazines, even my grandfather's military uniform, alongside the few

polished metals he'd received. He wasn't particularly proud of his time in the army,

but he had kept all his stuff in honor of his fallen friends. I thought back and imagined

the lives led and lost. All that had been left behind were memories of times long since passed,

with most of the artifacts holding meaning that was lost on anyone's still alive.

But then I saw something strange poking out from one of the boxes. A wooden board covered in

numbers and letters made from ancient wood and crafted and heavily worn. It was a Ouija board,

one of those games used to attract spirits and communicate with the dead. Though the box was

unmarked, it had to belong to someone in the family. The house had been in our family for generations,

built by my great-great-great-grandfather. I dug it out and brushed off the dirt.

...