Regina Frost and her fiancé, Jax Kelley, loved adventure. It was their mutual enjoyment of such fun that brought them together. Their whirlwind romance began at a skydiving facility and culminated with a huge engagement party in an ultimate celebration of their bond.

Amidst the joyous occasion, her best friend, Rachel, mentioned Broken House to Regina. She’d grown up near St. Francisville, the small Louisiana town near the state’s capital. Unlike her ghost-hunting bestie, Regina brushed off the rumored hauntings.

“Everything we’ve heard about Broken House is true,” Rachel said. “It’s worse than the Myrtles. Probably because it’s so deserted and dilapidated. Definitely not for the faint of heart.”

Regina rolled her eyes. The Myrtles Plantation was supposedly the gold standard in haunted houses. She’d visited several times, had even spent the night, and came out unscathed.

“We should visit,” Rachel pressed. “You’ll soon be a married woman, consumed by whatever that entails, so it’s now and never.”

Regina didn’t want a girl’s night out and she had no intention of reassuring her friend that Jax wouldn’t damage their friendship. “I have an even better idea. Jax loves challenges as much as me. Why don’t we arrange an overnight stay? The four of us. You, Eric, me and Jax.”

Rachel wrinkled her nose. She didn’t care for Eric too much, but once Regina set her mind to something, no one could stop her. Predictably, Rachel agreed. 

It took four weeks of coordinating schedules to arrange a night at Broken House. During that time, Regina ignored every sinister legend and whispered warning. She brushed off the idea she, Jax, and their two friends would be alone in a drafty old house, surrounded by overgrown trees, creepy-crawlies, without cell phone reception or electricity.

Jax, equally doubtful but excited by the thrill of a night of spooky fun, also brushed off the rumors. He agreed with Regina that it would be a memorable way to mark their engagement.

Regina and Jax didn’t care about the rumors or the heaviness that lingered in the air around the property. They dismissed the whispers of the disappearances of some visitors and the madness of those who escaped. They were two peas in a pod, sceptics who craved adventure. The more dangerous, mysterious, or legendary, the better to soothe their need for an adrenaline rush.

The moment Jax turned off the main thoroughfare and onto the private access road, a chill came over Regina and she lifted her head from her phone, where she’d been creating yet another to-do list. A trail of gravel slashed through the thick foliage on either side of them.

It isn’t even a proper road.

Something unspoken lingered in the air, a tension she refused to acknowledge. Shifting in her seat, she tried to focus on her phone again. The words blurred in front of her.

Jax sped up. The road seemed endless. At the end of the winding road, the house rose up against the late evening horizon. Age cracked and crumbled the façade. When he parked and killed the engine, Regina opened the door. She jerked at the noise cutting through the unsettling silence. Towering trees cast long shadows over the overgrown lawn.

“Should we get our overnight bag?” Her strong tone was comforting. She wouldn’t allow a silly old house to alarm her.  “Or should we wait for Eric and Rachel to arrive?”

“We’ll wait, babe,” Jax said as calm as always.

It was one of the things she loved about him. Love, marriage, white picket fences, and all that jazz hadn’t been a lifelong aspiration. Ghost hunting and smarminess was Rachel’s forte. A mere year ago, Regina would’ve bet all her worldly possessions that Rachel would marry first. Now, her friend had zero prospects, and Regina would be Mrs. Jaxon Kelley in mere months.

Smiling, Regina opened her door and met Jax at the car’s front bumper. He leaned and gave her a quick kiss, then grabbed her hand, and guided her to the fractured concrete steps that led to an equally dismal porch.

“We will have an eerie tale to hand down for future generations of Kelleys,” Jax promised.

A shadow dipped and danced in front of Regina, then slipped into one of the cracks in the concrete. Her heart rate sped up, until she remembered the sun was waning, and she relaxed again.

“I may have to order a ‘I survived Broken House’ t-shirt,” she murmured. They were big sellers up the road at the Myrtles.

“No thank you,” Jax said. “A waste of money. We wouldn’t flaunt our wealth. Why flaunt our disbelief in the supernatural?”

“An interesting analogy, but okay. You wouldn’t flaunt your wealth. I intend to brandish mine without remorse. I’m not making money to pretend I don’t have any.”

Crunching gravel and a car moving at a high rate of speed interrupted whatever response Jax had.

“Dude,” Eric Troy greeted, moments later. He was Jax’s oldest friend and had known each other since they were young. As he carefully climbed the steps, he adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. “What’s up with this place?”

“Wimp,” Jax teased.

Regina laughed. The old house wasn’t evil. Once again, the thrill of the unknown excited her and washed away her lingering doubts.

“There’s just something…” Eric made a three-hundred-sixty-degree turn, then glanced from Jax to her. “Don’t you feel it?”

“Consider this an adventure to laugh about years from now,” Jax said as a gust of wind blew around them.

As Rachel pulled up in her old Volkswagen Beetle, Eric swallowed and glanced around. His freckles puckered against his pink skin. His dirt-brown sweater washed out his russet-colored hair and brown eyes wide with fear.

Regina’s esteem toward Eric was plummeting at his killjoy behavior.

“Chin up,” Jax said with disapproval as Rachel climbed the steps with caution, thanks to the broken concrete. “Consider this an adventure. An experience to laugh about years from now.”

“Hey, girl,” Regina greeted Rachel, dismissing Eric’s disappointing behavior.

At one time, she thought Rachel and Eric would be a great couple, despite her friend’s dislike of the guy. Now, Regina understood why Rachel felt as she did. Rachel was adventurous. As she gazed at the house, anticipation lit her eyes, whereas Eric looked ready to bolt.

Rachel nodded to Eric, but he was too busy sweating their surroundings to notice the pretty girl.

Another gust of wind blew around them, lifting Jax’s locs. Luckily, Regina had swept her hair up into a ponytail.

“You guys brought your supplies?” Rachel craned her neck to see the second story. “I have my flashlight, candles, my ghost scanner, and the EMF meter.”

Eric paled. “Wh-what is that?”

“It detects changes in a room’s electromagnetic energy caused by paranormal activity.”

Lights flickered on and off in a room on the first floor, shimmering through the white cloths on the windows. The wind whipped over them again, whooshing through the trees in an echoing howl. A shaft of sunlight bled through the skeleton limbs of the branches.

Jax pulled her in for a kiss, then wrapped an arm around her waist. “Ready, babe?”

“Yes,” Regina said with excitement. “Maybe we can spend our honeymoon here.”

“I’m the best man,” Eric said from behind them. “Don’t I get a say?”

“Are you going on the honeymoon with them?” Rchel asked.

“Absolutely not,” Jax said, dropping his arm from around her and digging in the pocket of his jeans to pull out an antique key. He unlocked the door.

“Let me.” Regina scooted in front of her fiancé, determined to open the door and step into Broken House before anyone else.

She turned the squeaky iron doorknob. As she pushed open the door, the hinges creaked, protesting after decades of neglect.

Inside, a labyrinth of dust-covered rooms awaited where lights didn’t have power, not even in the room where she’d seen the flickering while standing on the porch.

“Let’s take a quick tour on the way to our rooms,” Rachel suggested.

Satisfaction shot through Regina. “Yes, let’s do that.”

As they explored, their footsteps reverberated through the empty halls. In one room, old photographs, faded with time, scattered on a table. Indecipherable symbols and rituals filled books.

“Time for the real ghost hunting,” Rachel said, as the last rays of sun stole the little light

“You do that,” Eric said, the first to light his flashlight.

“We will all do that,” Regina said firmly. “Do you hear me, Broken House? We will discover all your musty, crusty secrets and tell the world you’re nothing more than an old house that should be torn down.”

Rachel gaped at her. “Girl.” She sounded appalled. “What is wrong with you? You don’t challenge this place?”

“According to one rumor,” she agreed. “But I don’t believe that nonsense.”

“Don’t get too close to me with that attitude,” Rachel said. “When they snatch you, I don’t want to go with you.”

“Dramatic—”

A shadow looming against the wall interrupted Regina and she jumped, but a blink cleared the image.

“You okay, babe?” Jax asked.

“Peachy,” she said. Her voice trembled, and she patted her chest delicately. “Lovely.” She appreciated her stronger tone.

“Let’s meet back here in an hour,” Jax said. “We have snacks in the car. By the time we freshen up, we should’ve worked up an appetite.”

“I’ll catch up to Eric,” Rachel promised, her flashlight flaring to life. She beamed it from Jax and Regina. “See you kiddies in a few.”

She was always so bouncy, and she didn’t disappoint now. She bounced away, happy as always.

Once their friends left to find the room they wanted to claim for the night, Regina hoped to find a secret journal or even a memento she could take tomorrow to prove she’d survived Broken House. She’d put those ridiculous rumors to rest.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Of course I am, Jax. Are you ready?”

Jax shone the flashlight in her face. “Who are you talking to, Reggie?”

“Boy, stop playing! I was answering you.”

Jax diverted the flashlight to his confused frown. “I said nothing, babe.”

When he focused the light on her, Regina laughed nervously. “I’m teasing you.”

A shriek hurt her ears. She jerked and turned in a full circle, glancing in all directions.

“Babe! Reggie?”

“Do you hear anything?”

“I don’t.”

“Right.”

“Why don’t we explore the infamous cellar?”

Regina wasn’t sure if Jax had asked her or…no. Her imagination ran away.

“Well?” Jax asked, shining the light on her again.

Relieved, she nodded.

Holding the flashlight in one hand and wrapping an arm around her waist with the other, Jax steered her out of the room. The bright beam bounced off cracked walls and dark crevices, where thick cobwebs hung and little feet scurried the entire way to the kitchen, where Jax released her long enough to open the door in the floor that led to the cellar.

Dust flew in all directions, and the hinges creaked as Jax yanked the door open. The old stairs creaked as he led the way down. Regina worried the wood would give way and send them plummeting to their deaths. The deeper she and Jax descended, the colder the air grew. The light from their flashlights barely cut through the gloom.

At the bottom of the staircase, Jax halted abruptly. “What the hell?”

He turned the flashlight toward the interior of the cellar.

Regina gasped. Stone altars, dried blood staining their surfaces, lined with room. Runes, etched into the wall, seemed to pulse with a life of their own.

“The journal.”

The words sounded like they came from Jax, but Regina knew he hadn’t spoken. It delt as if her entire body twisted toward one of the altars where a black leather book pulsed.

Unable to stop herself, she stumbled to the journal and swiped it from the blood-stained altar.

“Did you hear that, Reggie?”

“Did you hear that, Reggie?”

The two voices, once indistinguishable but now quite distinct, assailed Regina. She raced up the stairs, incapable of releasing the journal.

Faint whispers grew louder and more insistent.

“They’re coming for you.”

The words echoed and bounced around her.

“No, this isn’t real. No. They’re coming for you? Corny ghosts aren’t a thing.”

Each shadow seemed alive, slithering along the walls and floors, creeping closer. The house warped, the corridors stretching impossibly long and the rooms twisting into unfamiliar shapes.

Footsteps pounded behind her.

“Reggie!”

“No!” she screamed.

“It’s me. Jax! Stop!”

The journal glowed, burning through her clothes and singeing her skin. She stumbled into a room and slammed the door shut. She gasped, her pulse thumping. In slow degrees, she realized the voices were gone. The journal, and her skin, had cooled.

“REGINA!”

The walls pulsated with a sickly light. The runes she’d seen in the cellar formed in the eerie glow. Her skin crawled. A malevolent presence wrapped around her.

“Jax!” she screamed, her voice cracking.

The shadows drowned out her cries, and malice thickened the air.

The house shook with rage, the walls trembling, swallowing her whole, and collapsing in on itself, crushing all within.

As the sun rose, the broken house stood in silent ruin, its hunger for the non-believers once again sated.