Ask his movie friends.

They would have told you.

It's all made up.

Of course it was.

Just a clever bit of spooky nonsense conjured up in the most unusual mind of Mark Twitchell.

Man's whole life was devoted to make-believe, scary stories.

He was a strange fellow in his way, if also harmless.

Even his friends and colleagues would tell you that.

Them and the curious reporter who checked him out.

He was in that kind of clique of people that would go to, you know, Star Wars conventions

or they would dress up for the premiere of a movie.

You know, everyone's got someone like that in their family who's just, you know, a big sci-fi

nut or whatever.

But does that make you a nut?

Or just a person who enjoys pure, clean fun?

The point was, Mark Twitchell loved it all, loved... or just a person who enjoys fewer clean fun.

The point was, Mark Twitchell loved it all,

loved writing the stories, loved making the movies,

loved dreaming up a universe of dark and dangerous characters.

A would-be master of misdirection is what he was.

Mind you, it was true that some guy named Johnny Altinger was missing and possibly dead, and police thought I was curious that he, Twitchell,

had bought the man's car, but that was about it. Nobody else had come forward to complain about him.

...