The House, the Frozen Tomb

📅 Published on February 20, 2022

“The House, the Frozen Tomb”

Written by Corpse Child
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available


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“The warmth is completely gone now, she took it all away…she’s behind me…she’s angry with me. Ice…everywhere…I have my gun.  Can’t let her…ice everywhere…so…cold…”

Those were my brother, Christopher’s last words; hastily scrawled on the last page of his fiancee, Darla’s personal journal that was found sitting on the wooden desk in front of his stiff corpse in the living room of our grandparent’s vacation house up in Grenview Pines.  I was told that when they found him, his skin was almost completely drained of pigmentation and his lips were blue.  More peculiarly so were his fingertips, which also appeared blueish and purple, as if frostbitten.  Keep in mind, they found him wearing that bulky-as-hell turtleneck that Darla bought him two years ago for his birthday (not to mention that this happened two weeks ago — in the summertime).  Despite this, the cause of death was ruled as severe hypothermia.  I was also told that he was found holding Pawpaw Hadley’s old Colt .45 to his right temple, apparently having perished before he could pull the trigger.

The funeral was held last Tuesday.  I did my best to hold it together, frantically racking my brain to try and figure out what could’ve happened.  That led me to ask Darla after the service.  At first, I found this to be a huge mistake as she burst into hysterics and ran out in tears, crying out that she should’ve gotten him out of that house sooner, which of course, earned me dirty looks from the rest of the gathering.  The next day, she texted me apologizing for her reaction and said that she’d drop by later with some things that might help answer some of my questions if I was still interested.  At about 2:30 that afternoon, she came to my house with a tote bag.  I tried to invite her to come inside for lunch as I was in the middle of cooking when she came.  She declined, however, saying that she was leaving town and was already running late.  I could see from the way that her VW was packed in tight that she didn’t exactly have a return date in mind.  “I figured, though, being his brother and all, that you deserve an explanation and that maybe you might be able to make a bit more sense of this than me.”  With that, we exchanged brief condolences and farewells before she left.

After lunch, I decided to take a look in the bag.  Inside were a few things: Darla’s aforementioned personal journal, an envelope containing a few photographs, and the tape recorder Chris got for his tenth birthday and always used whenever he went on vacation somewhere — “living and reliving the glory moments” he always used to say — as well as three of the audio cassettes.  The rest of that night, as well as the rest of the week, was spent examining and analyzing the materials.  That brings me to why I’m posting this.  I’ve spent the last week examining and reviewing everything; even pulling all-nighters, beating my head against a fucking wall trying to connect the dots as to what happened.  So far, I’m stuck with the decision of either accepting the conclusion that my brother, a thirty-two-year-old man with a very successful career as a defense attorney, a loving fiancée, and no history of mental illness or drug abuse, just all of a sudden lost his damn mind somehow during a summer getaway…or accept the possibility of paranormal activity.  So I’ve taken the liberty of, as best I possibly can, transcribing everything and sharing everything I’ve found here in hopes that some of you may be able to help me make a bit better sense of all this.

* * * * * *

Day 1

[Tape one: side A]

-Device clicks on-

(Chris) – (sounds of giggling are heard) “…And then I told him, ‘Look, pal, I’m your defense; not your fairy-fuckin’-godmoth–’ wait, what the hell?  Babe, you didn’t tell me this thing was rolling.”

(Darla) – (giggling) “Oh… my bad…”

(Chris) – (chucking) “Oh well.  So today is Saturday, June 5th, 2021 and the first day of a very much-needed vacation to Grenview Pines.  Attending are myself and my fiance: the lovely Darla Cadence.”

(Darla) – “Won’t be “Cadence” too much longer.” (kissing sounds are heard)

(Chris) – (chuckling) “That’s right, soon you’ll be “Mrs. Hadley.” So, right now, we’re on the mountain pass, and we’ve been driving for about forty-five minutes now, and I’d say another thirty or so should see us there.”

(Darla) – (sighs exasperatedly) “Thirty minutes?  But I’m ready to be there already.  Just had to take the “scenic route,” didn’t you?” (chuckling)

(Chris) – (scoffing) “Right, and the three bathroom breaks you just had to have didn’t contribute to any extra road-time at all.”

(Darla) – (giggling) “Okay, ‘Mr. Attorney,’ you’ve made your case.”

(Chris) – “Oh sweetheart, that was just the “opening statements.” (both are heard chuckling) “Besides, there’s no denying that the scenery is worth the extra road-time.”

(Darla) – “Yeah, it is nice out here today.  I think I’ll snap a few pics for the studios.”

-[Note: Darla worked as a free-lance photographer for various magazine companies]-

“Think you could slow the car down a bit, hon?”

(Chris) – (scoffing) “Oh, now you’re glad that I “just had to take the scenic route.” Not to mention, so much for leaving work behind.”

(Darla) – (scoffing) “Says “Mr. Law and Order” over here, building argument upon argument against me.”

(Chris) – (laughing) “Okay, okay…statement withdrawn, your honor.”

(Darla) – (snorting) “Besides, not all of them are going to the studio.  I’ve been thinking about getting into scrapbooking.  Ooh, Babe, slow down; that’s a really nice view of the side of the mountain.” (camera is heard snapping)

-[Edit: The next fifteen minutes are spent in silence, save only for the snapping of Darla’s camera]-

(Chris) – “Hey, uh, would it be alright if we rolled up the window?  Getting a little chilly.”

(Darla) – “Oh…uh, yeah sure…”

(Chris) – “Thanks, hon.”

-[Edit: Another five minutes passes in silence]-

(Chris) – “Babe, do you have the AC on?”

(Darla) – “No…why?”

(Chris) – “You sure?  It just feels cold for some reason…” (Darla) – “Feels normal to me.  You feeling okay?”

(Chris) – (sighing) “Yeah…guess it’s just chills of excitement, you know?”

(Darla) – (chortling) “I know you’ve been looking forward to this trip for a while now.”

(Chris) – (sighing) “Yeah, it’s just been so long since the last time I visited Maw and Pawpaw Hadley’s vacation house… I wonder if they still have the – what the hell?  WHOA!” (tires are heard screeching)

(Darla) – (panicking) “What, what is it?!”

(Chris) – (breathing heavily) “What do you mean ‘What is it?’  You didn’t see that?”

(Darla) – (alarmed) “See what?”

(Chris) – (stammering) “Th-that thing that was just in front of us, you didn’t see it?”

(Darla) – “What are you talking about?  All I was seeing was the bright and beautiful groves before I almost saw you try to drive us off the side of the mountain!”

(Chris) – (stammering) “But th-there was that…that white blur…just came out of thin air…” (sighs) “Fuck it, never mind.”

(Darla) – “Sweetie, I think you might need to rest a bit.  Why don’t I take the wheel?’

(Chris) – (sighs and chuckles) “Yeah, okay.  ‘No rebuttal, your honor.’” (Darla is heard snickering, and car doors are heard opening and closing)

(Darla) – “There, maybe now we can enjoy the scenery without it becoming our final resting place.”

(Chris is heard chuckling)

(Darla) “So, where’s the place again?”

(Chris) – “Okay, so just keep following the road here and – hold on, there it is again.”

(Darla) – “What?”

(Chris) – “That…the white blur, whatever it is.  It’s like it’s staring at us.”

(Darla) – “What’re you talking about, where?’

(Chris) – “Right there.  Outside your window.  See it?”

(Darla) – “There’s nothing out there, Chris.”

(Chris) – “Right there, in the trees!” (Chris is heard shivering) “God, why is it so cold all of a sudden?”

(Darla) – “Honey, when was the last time you had your vitamins?”

-[Note: Christopher was diagnosed at six years old with a moderate iron deficiency and had ever since been regularly taking prescription vitamin supplements to keep it in check]-

(Chris) – (sighing) “The night before last before going to bed.”

(Darla) – “No wonder you’re cold!  Here, take my blanket, and first thing when we get there, you’re gonna take your vitamins, okay?”

(Chris) – (groaning and shivering) “Y-yeah, okay…”

(Darla) – “Now, which way am I going again?”

(Chris) – (sighing) “Okay, so you’ll follow the road winding around the mountain here, hold on…” (Device is heard being handled)

-Device clicks off-

[Tape one: side B]

-Device clicks on-

(Chris) – “Alright, we’ve made it; Maw and Pawpaw Hadley’s vacation house!  God, my mind’s already flooding with memories.  Holy shit, is that…it is!  The old homemade rope swing!  Babe, come over here real quick!  I’ll give you a push.”

(Darla) – (grunting and straining) “I-in a minute, sweetheart; don’t you think we should get this stuff out of the car first?”

(Chris) – “Oh shit, hold on, I’m coming.” (sounds of running and crunching leaves) “Got it?  Okay, now just set it down nice and easy… there!” (thud) “Just roll that into the living room and come back.  I wanna show you around the area, you’ll love it; in fact, bring your camera.” (leaves crunching under footsteps are heard) “Jesus, I can’t believe it’s all still here.  Not only that, the house looks like it hasn’t aged a day.  Even still has that pitch-black paint on the outside.  I remember the times me and Luke would run off into the woods and get lost.”(laughing) “Hell, I’ll never forget the time we snuck out after dark; we didn’t think we’d be able to find the house again.  I’m pretty sure we both pissed ourselves that night, too.  Maw and Pawpaw Hadley found us the next morning asleep right in front of the damn porch.”

(Darla) – (in the distance) “All right, I’m here.  So where do you wanna start first?” (footsteps heard approaching)

(Chris) – “Actually, first…” (footsteps are heard running in the direction of approaching footsteps) “Think you could get a picture of the both of us in front of the house?”

(Darla) – “Sure, let me just set the camera up, here.” (footsteps heard departing from the device) “Okay, ten seconds!” (footsteps approach)

(Chris) – “’Kay, ready?  Say cheese!” (camera is heard snapping, Chris is heard shivering) (Darla) – “You okay?”

(Chris) – “Yeah, just got a little cold again, that’s all.”

(Darla) – “Oh shit, I almost forgot about your vitamins!” (sounds of rummaging are heard) “Here, take one.”

(Chris) – “Thanks, hon.  Now follow me; I’ll show you all the areas me and Luke loved to explore.  There’s a really nice river that runs directly into a beautiful waterfall at the edge of Grenview Pines that leads into the next stretch of woods.”

(Darla) – (sheepishly) “Okay… but neither of us packed swimsuits or towels…”

(Chris) – (chuckling) “Well then, I guess it’s a good thing we’re the only ones here, huh?’ (both are heard snickering until Chris abruptly stops)

(Darla) – “Everything okay?” (silence) “What is it, what’re you looking at?”

(Chris) – “It…it’s staring at me…”

(Darla) – (confused) “Huh?  What is?”

(Chris) -”Over there, the white…” (sighs) “Never mind.  Come on, let’s hit the lake while we still have daylight.”

-Device clicks off-

* * * * * *

From here, the tape recorder was not used again until the next morning.  However, Darla’s first journal entry was written that night, a few hours after they returned from the lake, and appears to detail more of Chris’ odd behaviors.

* * * * * *

[Darla’s journal: Entry 1]

June 5th, 2021

Today was the first day of our vacation getaway!  Chris was talking for months about coming up here. I have to say, it’s absolutely beautiful up here.  The trees here all emanate such a bright vibrance, like something out of a Renaissance painting – but it’s real!  When the leaves of the trees rustled, it felt soothing and peaceful.  And the house, my God, is it huge!  When Chris was telling me about this being a “vacation spot,” I wasn’t expecting anything near as big or as nice as this.

I can’t get over how nice the inside of the house is.  It’s got wood flooring that still looks polished, despite Chris claiming that – as far as he knew- the house hadn’t been touched for almost six years since his grandparents passed away.  Not only that but there were neat little knick-knacks in every room.  He told me that his grandparents used to travel around a lot, always stashing their souvenirs here; which is evident by the fact that in literally every room – of which there are at least 15 – there were shelves upon shelves of different items, ranging from those little solar-powered bobbleheads you’d see on people’s dashboards, to even little white geodes that Chris said were from when he and his little brother Luke used to go gem-mining.

Chris is worrying me, though.  He’s been complaining that he’s constantly cold, despite the fact that it’s easily 80 degrees outside.  I know he’s anemic, but even that’s not exactly normal for him, is it?  Of course, I know it doesn’t help that he went almost a day and a half without his vitamins.  I’ll have to stay on top of that for him.

Still, though, he keeps talking about this “white blur” that he claims to see.  He almost drove off the side of the mountain pass because of it, and he claimed to see it again while we were at the lake. Everything was great until then.  He showed me where he, Luke, and his grandparents used to go swimming when he was younger.  Like the rest of the scenery here, the lake was gorgeous.  Looking into it was like looking into a brand-new mirror!  I was taking photos when, all of a sudden, I saw Chris getting naked!  Before I could ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, the man then ran out and swan-dived into the lake.  He told me to hop in, splashing me to try and soak my clothes.

Deciding “What the hell,” I started to strip too – him doing his little cat-calls at me like he used to back at college parties, which I still somehow found amusing from him – before jumping in myself.  The water was so warm and relaxing, even better while in his arms.  But, after a while, I felt him start shivering again.  When I looked up at him, I saw him staring in the direction of the other end of the bank.  I asked him what he was staring at.  He told me, “She’s watching us.”  When I looked around, however, no one was there.  I asked him what he was talking about, and he insisted that some girl was watching us.

That was also when I noticed his skin beginning to turn pale, and he said that he was feeling cold again. When I asked where this person was, he pointed to the opening of the clearing where our clothes were and asked again if I could see the “woman in the white dress.”  We began to notice at that point that the sun was going down, and we decided to head back to the house before it got too dark to find it again (He used to tell me all the time about when he and Luke got lost in the woods one night and they couldn’t find the house because it was so dark that it blended in, only to be found the next morning asleep right in front of it).

The entire way back, he was shivering and constantly looking over his shoulder.  When we got back to the house, I offered to cook dinner this time around and let him bundle up under the blankets and find something on the TV for us.  I made one of his favorites: chicken and waffles (which, because of him, has secretly become one of my favorites, too).  As we ate, he stayed completely buried under the blankets, and yet, I could still see him shivering underneath.  He even asked if I could turn up the heat!

Even as I write this, I’m down to my nightgown and sweating profusely; yet, he’s asleep on the couch, completely covered by the blankets, and he still feels so cold.  Hopefully, this is just one of those weird occurrences that happen once and never again.  I can’t wait to explore more of the area tomorrow with him.

* * * * * *

That was the last account of the first day of their trip.  I feel that it’s worth mentioning that, when looking over the photos Darla took for about the tenth or so time, I began to notice that two stood out: one of them in front of the house and one from the lake.  Looking closer, I noticed in these two particular photos that there was what appeared to be a transparent, white streak with two dark circles off to the side in the background.  After spotting this, I took them to a photography expert and asked if he could determine what it is and/or whether or not it’s some optical illusion or a trick of the lighting. That was a few days ago; I am still waiting to hear his response on the matter.

* * * * * *

Day 2

[Tape two: side A]

-Device clicks on-

(Chris) – “Day 2 of our vacation here at the old Hadley summer house, and I’m currently walking through the top floor.  I forgot there were so many rooms!  Wait, is that–” (door creaks open) “It is! The old room full of puppets!” (footsteps are heard against hardwood floor) “I still remember how much this room used to freak us the hell out.  They still look like they’re watching you.” (laughing) “Maw and Pawpaw Hadley used to use ‘em to scare me and Luke, saying that if we didn’t get our act together, they’d make us spend the night in here.” (sounds of rummaging are heard) “There it is, the creepiest fucker in the bunch: Mr. Chuckles.” (clattering) “Still looks like something out of ‘Tales from the Crypt.’  I still don’t even remember where or why they bought this little bastard.  I think it may have been at a carnival or something when they were younger.  Anyways, I think I’ve spent enough time in here.” (footsteps exit and door latches shut) “Let’s see…which room should I visit next?” (footsteps) “Ahhh…Maw’s sewing room.” (door creaks open, footsteps enter) “It all still looks so new, even after all this time; if she could be here now…no way!  There’s even the little row of toy soldiers Maw Hadley used to get for us.  She used to stitch mine and Luke’s name on the uniforms; our ‘personal army guys,’ as we used to call ‘em.  Hold on…I don’t remember this one.  For one thing, it’s a doll; we always told Maw Hadley we wanted only soldiers.  This looks like one of those old dime-store dress-up dolls you’d give to a little girl.  It also looks so old and worn compared to everything else.  It also looks like someone attempted to tear it apart.  It’s got decent-sized rips in different places, and one of the black button eyes is hanging from its thread.  The stitching for the mouth has been ripped out as well. Come to think of it, though…I feel like there’s something familiar about it…” (faint sounds out footsteps are heard in the background) “Ooh, I think that’s Darla.  I’d better get breakfast started.  God, she’ll love it up here!”

-Device clicks off-

[Darla’s journal: Entry 2]

June 6th, 2021

When I woke up this morning – by which, of course I mean 11:30 – I found that Chris had woke up before me and was coming down the stairs.  He made breakfast; cinnamon rolls with eggs – over easy, insisting all the while we ate that I’d really enjoy it upstairs.  The first room he showed me was one that he told me his grandfather used to use as a sort-of “wood-work gallery.”  It was a small room (barely fitting the two of us inside) with a bunch of very expertly crafted wood carvings of different scenes and images that hung on each wall, each of them still looking freshly polished.  My favorite was this lovely carving of a rose that was even painted, unlike most of the others.

The next room he showed me was full of these really nice paintings he said his grandmother used to collect.  I have to wonder just how loaded his grandparents were to be able to afford everything here, not to mention how they even afforded a house this big, to begin with.  One of the paintings struck me as a bit odd, however.  It was of a young girl standing in front of a large house in the snow, her face appearing emotionless with two tiny black dots for eyes.  It felt almost like she was staring straight through me.

What worried me more, though, was Chris’ reaction when I asked him about it.  He swore up and down that he didn’t remember ever seeing it.  He also began to seem skittish, too, like he did yesterday when we came back from the lake.  He insisted that we move on.  I decided not to press him too much, but he really is starting to concern me with these strange behaviors.

Right now, he’s currently taking a shower.  He says that, next, he wants to explore the cellar area in the basement that he says was used as a walk-in freezer.

[Tape two: side B]

-[Note: the cellar of the Hadley vacation house ran on a high-powered generator; therefore, a droning hum in the background is heard for the lengths of time the device was in the cellar]-

-Device clicks on-

(Chris) – “Here’s the cellar area.  Pawpaw Hadley used to come down here whenever he wanted to wet his whistle, away from us kids.” (chucking) “God, I think this is the first time I’ve been down here without him.”

(Darla) – “Look at all these barrels…your grandfather brewed all of these?”

(Chris) – “M-hm, as far as I’m aware.  I wonder…” (tap opens and liquid is heard pouring out)

(Darla) – (giggling) “Oh my god, what are you doing?!” (slurping is heard)

(Chris) – “Ugh, okay, uh…” (chuckling) “Don’t drink that shit; turns out it doesn’t age to perfection.”

(Darla) – (laughing) “I can’t believe you, sometimes…” (sighing) “Never change.”

(Chris) – “Never plan to.” (kissing is heard) “Follow me…” (footsteps) “If I’m remembering correctly; this is where Pawpaw Hadley used to store all of the fish we used to catch down at the lake.”

(Darla) – (sniffing) “Yeah,” (chuckles) “I think I can smell it.”

(Chris) – (shyly chuckling) “Yeah…me too…” (both are heard giggling) “And here it is.” (Chris is heard grunting and a metal door is heard opening) “Oof, there we go…”

-[Edit: ambient droning is loudest in the freezer room]-

(Darla) – (gagging) “Yep, definitely smell it now.”

(Chris) – “So, here’s the freezer area where – hey, it’s the old ice-cream machine!  Pawpaw Hadley used to like to treat us with homemade soft-serve ice cream after our fishing trips.  I wonder if it still works.”

(Darla) – (scoffing) “First the ale mold, and now old ice cream?” (snickers) (Chris) – (sighs) “Yeah, yeah…” (pauses abruptly) “Hold on…” (Darla) – “What, what’s the matter?”

(Chris) – “Shh, listen…”

-[Edit: about a minute passes in silence, only ambient droning is heard]-

(Darla) – “What are you listening for?”

(Chris) – “I-it…it sounds like a voice.”

(Darla) – “I…don’t hear anything…”

(Chris) – “You don’t hear that whispering?”

(Darla) – “What whispering?”

* * * * * *

Around this time, the audio appears to encounter some sort of interference. This happens on the third tape, as well.  I’ve done my best to isolate the sounds of their voices from the static, but they’re still rendered very faint. * * * (Chris) – “It sounds like another language…it’s all so jumbled, I can’t tell what she’s saying…” (Darla) – “She?”

(Chris) – “Yeah, it sounds like a girl’s voice whispering…what the fuck?”

(Darla) – “I don’t hear anything…sweetheart, are you okay?”

(Chris) – “I… I… “ (sighs) “Let’s get outta here, huh?” (footsteps are heard and the metal door is latched once again)

-[Edit: static interference diminishes, returning to ambient droning]-

(Chris) – “It-it’s gone now; the whispering’s gone now…”

(Darla) – “Honey, you’re freaking me out now.  If you’re trying to fuck around with me here, it’s not funny.”

(Chris) – “Babe, I swear to God, I’m not screwing around; I heard a voice whispering!”

(Darla) – “Oh, really?  Then what was it saying?  And why couldn’t I hear anything?”

(Chris) – (frustrated) “I don’t know, okay?!  I don’t know, but I know I heard a voice whispering in my ear, and I couldn’t tell what it was saying.” (sighs deeply)

(Darla) – (defensively) “Okay, okay; calm down…”

(Chris) – “I…” (sighs deeply) “Fuck, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have snapped like that…” (shivering)

(Darla) – “Here, why don’t we head back upstairs.” (footsteps and handling of the device is heard)

-Device clicks off-

[Darla’s journal: Entry 3]

June 6th, 2021

Chris’ behaviors are really starting to make me nervous.  First, he claimed to see things that weren’t there; and then, in the basement freezer, he claimed to hear a woman’s voice speaking to him.  He swears that he’s not just trying to screw with me, but I can’t think of any explanation for what’s going on with him.  On top of that, he’s shivering again, claiming to constantly be cold.  I don’t know what to say about that, either, because I know he took his vitamins when he was supposed to today.  Right now, he’s trying to warm up in a hot bath.  Maybe it’ll help him.  Afterward, he wants to visit the lake again to do some fishing.

[Darla’s journal: Entry 4]

June 6th, 2021

The lake was absolutely beautiful today, somehow more so than yesterday!  I’m glad I brought my camera again; the studios will love these (might even throw me a nice bonus on commission!).  I noticed that the mid-afternoon sun really brings out the vibrant colors of the trees here.

The water was almost crystalline-looking as well!

As I was taking shots, Chris managed to snag a few of the minnows that swam by.  About twenty minutes went by like that, him only catching smaller fish, and he was about ready to give up when something big started tugging his line and damn near pulled him into the lake.  When he did manage to reel in his line, both of our eyes bugged out at the size of the carp he’d reeled in.  It was at least five-and-a-half to six feet long and about three to four feet wide.  After snapping a pic of him holding his prize catch of the day, we headed back to the house, deciding to cook up the carp for lunch with some salad.

Chris is still worrying me, though.  Despite the hot bath he took earlier (which I may or may not have joined him in) seeming to have relaxed his nerves a bit, he still looked very pale and was still cold, even while at the lake.  He even insisted on wearing the turtleneck sweater that I got him for his birthday down there – in 80-degree weather!  Even still, he said he was freezing.  If this keeps up, we may have to cut our getaway short and take him to see a doctor.

[Tape three: side A]

-[Note: droning ambience is present]-

-Device clicks on-

(Chris) – (shivering) “Okay, so it’s about 9:30 p.m. now… I-I’m in the cellar right now, Darla’s asleep up-upstairs…” (let’s out deep sigh and continues shivering) “God, why is it so fucking cold?!  I…I saw this woman in my dreams.  Sh-she’s got no mouth and…and her eyes are pitch-dark.  I-I…I s-saw her at th-the…the lake yesterday, too.  I-I th-think sh-she’s the one s-speaking to me.  D-Darla says she c-can’t hear it, b-but it’s…it-it’s there.  Sh-sh-she led me down here in my dream.  She w-wants me to come down here.  I don’t know w-what she wants, th-though…” (Chris is heard grunting and the metal door is heard being pushed open) “I… h-hear it again.”

* * * * * *

The interference from before returns with stronger intensity. This made it much more difficult for me to distinguish Chris’ voice and therefore made it much more difficult for a complete transcription.

* * * * * *

(Chris) “What’re you saying?” (Static) “W-what…ice?” (Static) “What about the ice?” (Static) “B-buried?  W-what does that…” (Static) “I-It’s s-saying s-s-something a-a-ab-about b-buried in the ah-ice b-box” (Static) -(lid is faintly heard opening, followed by screaming)-

* * * * * *

Now here, the device was never turned off; leaving the tape to continue the recording until it eventually ran itself out. Needless to say, the audio records end here.  At least officially, anyway; the tape appeared to have more of the interference on its second track – despite the fact that no one had switched the tracks. * * *

Day 3

[Darla’s journal: Entry 5]

June 7th, 2021

Something is very wrong here!  I woke up this morning to find Chris wasn’t on the couch with me like he was last night.  After spending what must’ve felt like an hour and a half searching for him (which the sheer size and number of rooms made all the more tedious), I found him sprawled out on the floor in the walk-in freezer!  I was almost afraid he’d passed out until I tried waking him up, and he jolted awake, babbling about something in the icebox.  I tried to get him to calm down to tell me what happened, but all I could get out of him was something about “she tried to pull me into the ice.”  When I tried to ask him who “she” was, he kept saying something about “black eyes,” “no mouth,” as well as a “white dress.”  It didn’t help, either, that he was badly shaking and shivering as he spoke.  He also looked even paler than before – almost albino!  Not only that, but I could start to see his lips turning blue.  Of course, from the looks of it, he must’ve spent most of the night down there.  I immediately ran another hot bath for him and told him to warm up for a bit while I made him a bowl chicken noodle soup.  He had to have spent at least twenty minutes in the bath, yet even with the water basically being as hot as a sauna; his skin still looks so pale, clammy even.  Even now, with the heat up 85 degrees in the house (forcing me to, again, strip down to my gown), he’s still on the couch asleep, almost completely mummified in blankets.  I decided to explore the house a bit on my own while he slept.  Something about his continued claims of a “woman in a white dress” made me curious.  Then I remembered the painting in the upstairs art gallery.  Looking at the painting again, I realized that the house in the house in the background very much resembled this one to a rather definite degree.  When I turned it over, I found an even more odd discovery; a fragment from a newspaper of a photo depicting the same scene as in the painting: a young woman with long, shaded hair, wearing a white dress standing in front of a large, black house in the snow in the middle of the woods.  I can’t help but wonder now just how long Chris’ grandparents had this house.  Chris claimed he doesn’t remember ever being shown the painting…I’m curious now as to if even they knew of the painting or the photo.  I’ve hidden the photo with the others.  I think, once we return home, I’m gonna do some research on this area.

* * * * * *

This appears to be the only account of the third day’s events. The photo in question was included in the little portfolio Darla gave me.  To my knowledge, it is true that neither Maw nor Pawpaw Hadley had ever shown or spoken of that particular painting or of the doll that was found to either me or Christopher — much less discussed any of the house’s previous owners.

This led me to ask the photography expert if there were any news stories regarding Grenview Pines that used that photo.  I got a response back the next day with a news article about one Nadine Venter who’d been reported missing about a year or two prior to the article’s publication – December 17th, 1958; which is believed to be not too long before Maw and Pawpaw Hadley bought the vacation house.  It was also discovered, after a bit more digging on my part, that the photo was taken at the Hadley vacation house.  Supposedly, that was the last known sighting of Nadine— who has still never been found.

* * * * * *

Day 4

[Darla’s journal: Entry 6]

June 8th, 2021

Last night, I couldn’t sleep at all!  Between the heat (which still doesn’t seem to be doing Chris any good) and him constantly shifting around and muttering in his sleep; something about “I won’t let you hurt her,” and “No, please, I love her,” I ended up going downstairs to the basement freezer myself to cool off.  Chris’ restlessness was also really starting to scare me.  At one point, during his sleep-talking episodes, I heard him start whispering in a soft, higher-pitched voice like he was talking back to himself, saying things like “Do it!  Kill her!  Kill her for me, Chris!” and something like, “Only I can have you, Chris!” When I came into the freezer, I was assaulted again by that awful smell from before.  At first, I just thought it was the smell of fish coming from the ice chest.  Then, however, I remembered what Chris said about someone or something attempting to pull him into it the night before last.  Opening it up, I found that it was indeed where the smell was coming from, but it wasn’t dead fish.  Inside, buried beneath the fish carcasses and a layer of ice — was a body!  It looked like the corpse of a young woman, couldn’t have looked any older than twenty-five.  Her body was well-preserved somehow.  Her eyes, though grey and dead, somehow still held a dark hue in the irises.  The freakiest thing was her mouth; her cold, blue lips had been sewn shut!  I slammed the lid shut and did everything I could to not scream.  I tried to call the number for the ranger station we passed when we entered Grenview Pines, but I couldn’t get any signal out here.  I’ve decided that I’m going to wake Chris up and tell him that we have to leave and get help!

* * * * * *

This was Darla’s last entry. The remaining accounts appear to have been from Chris, who seemed to have written them sometime after this one.  These are not dated and appear to have been shakily written, almost illegible, as if in a rush. * * *

[Darla’s journal: Chris’ Entry 1]


What have I done?!  Oh God, what have I done?!  Darla’s gone.  She…she made me do it!  She tried to make me hurt Darla…she told me Darla was trying to take me away from her.  She says that only she could have me.  She’s speaking to me now, she’s angry…she wanted me to kill Darla.  I…I love Darla; she tried to make me kill her.  I…I saw myself strangling her!  I tried to fight her…but she had control! I could see her frightened eyes, but I couldn’t fight it!  She was telling me to do it, kill Darla.  Darla smashed Maw Hadley’s vase over my head before running away.  She’s angry with me for letting Darla get away.

She says that my heart belongs to her.  It’s so cold…I see ice forming.  It’s already on the windows…I can’t get out…ice everywhere…

[Darla’s journal: Chris’ Entry 2]


I-I’m trapped!  She’s frozen the doors…the living room…covered in ice… so cold…I’ve got the fireplace going…using pages to feed the flames.  She says she’s coming…coming from the icebox…I can see her face; her eyes are black and covered in ice.  She has no mouth, but I can hear her…she says I’ll always be with her.  Must keep fire going…can’t let her have me…

* * * * * *

These were the final entries before the aforementioned note that was found with his body. When the authorities arrived, they said the door was unlocked and unobstructed, and it was at least 95 degrees inside.  They searched and found the woman’s corpse in the basement freezer room but have not yet officially identified her, nor have they been able to determine how long she’d actually been there, hidden in the icebox.  I wish I could offer more of my own conclusions, but I’m left still clueless.  Part of me thinks that the most plausible (yet still discomforting) conclusion was that Chris had somehow snapped and went insane, possibly due to maybe a mix of isolation and perhaps the shock of the woman’s corpse.  The best educated guess I had as far as why he felt cold all the time was perhaps due to his iron deficiency acting up.  The problem with this conclusion is that, at least by Darla’s testimonies, he’d been taking his vitamins for it.  Not to mention, again, Chris never had any sort of problems with mental illness.  That leaves me with the possibility of paranormal activity.  I should mention that when I was transcribing the audio (particularly the times the device was in the freezer, when the interference was active), attempting to filter the interference from the regular audio; I found that, by tweaking the frequency and reduced the decibel range of the static itself, sounds of what appear to be whispering can be heard.  Here’s a fragment from the “B-track” of the third tape:

“Yeht deirub em ni eth xobeci…Od ti, llik reh…Ew lliw syawla eb rehtegot, sirhc…Sirhc, llik reh rof em…Rehpotsirhc, rouy treah lliw syawla eb enim…”

At first, I thought it was a different language, as Chris had described.  Then, however, after an even more thorough tweaking of the audio, I found that the phrases were actually, in fact, just backward English, translating and rearranging to the following:

“They buried me in the icebox…Do it, kill her!…We will always be together, Chris…Kill her for me, Chris…Christopher, your heart will always be mine…”

The source of the whispers is unknown, as is the voice itself.  If it was the events of paranormal phenomena, though, then what was the source of attraction to my brother?  Why was Darla oblivious to any of it, outside of witnessing the effects on Chris?  And so, here we are now.  I have given you all of the information that I have.  And now, I need to know from you all: was my brother the victim of a haunting?

Rating: 10.00/10. From 1 vote.
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Written by Corpse Child
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

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