...Like a B-grade horror film

(Taken from Game 3: Strange Report)

I hate this.

That's your first thought as you enter the decrepit old castle. Looking around, you see ages of dust surrounded by piles of mold that were probably wooden furniture centuries ago.

Thinking back, you remember how it all started.

I've got a great job for you," your editor had said. "A great job!"

You grimaced, quickly changing it into a smile. Getting stuck writing stories for a tabloid was bad enough. Making the boss angry would probably not be a good idea. "Great!" you told him, hoping your acting was at least better than your luck. "What is it?"

"According to this lead out of Eastern Europe," he went on, "they're re-opening old Castle Bathory, near the border of Romania. This is tailor-made for a spook job! See, the Countess, Elisabeth Bathory, was supposed to be into sorcery, witchcraft, other stuff... anyway," he continued, "it's perfect. Just take some pics to mix up when you get back, make up some stuff about wailing ghosts and such, and you're home free!"

"I'm on it," you replied, remembering with a grin that the paper would pay your expenses. After all, you thought, how bad could it be?

Pretty bad, as it turned out. After riding donkeyback to the site of what was supposed to be Castle Bathory... that is, if the one man in that last town who spoke English got it right... you arrived to find no sign of the supposed archaeological team.

And then it started to rain.

Well, you think to yourself as the camera around your neck bounces against your chest for what seems like the billionth time, at least I'm in out of the rain.

Suddenly, you hear a noise behind you...

Written by Chris Curio

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