Welcome, friend. Have a seat by the fire. Make yourself comfortable.

One could not avoid a sensation of prying eyes, though they're set merely one home on the block of 3113 Kings crossing.

The feeling was so inescapable that many chose to bypass this particular block in some vain attempt to avoid the hungry glares,

avoid those shadowy observers rumored to dwell here.

But there was nothing to be found in plain sight,

other than trim lawns under a shroud of autumn leaves here in serene suburbia.

Nothing but a century-old home, and adjoining it,

an iron-gated final resting place for a local congregation,

so there could be little truth, you see, to those tales of menacing voyeurs. For the next door neighbors of this lone

resident set 3113 Kings crossing were each long dead and buried.

You're listening to Camp Fire Radio Theatre.

Our All Hallows Eve tale is from the pin of John Ballantine.

An original piece that takes us to a place in suburbia where the grass grows green and horror hides in plain sight.

Our play is called Whispers from Hell.

Are you expecting Chad over tonight?

Joel, I told you it was our moving night.

Damn, I expect anyone.

Probably your sister. You haven't seen the house yet.

Great.

Well, don't get up.

It's not like you're the man of the house or anything.

Come on, it's a nice quiet neighborhood.

...