Thanks to those of you who responded to my first post to this group. I must admit that I was a bit nervous about it, and truthfully, almost hit cancel before sending it. I felt it was a little long, and couldn't imagine anyone wanting to work their way through the whole thing. Some of you were kind enough to send me e-mail, though, and I certainly appreciate your remarks and your theories concerning my previous tale. I will certainly answer those who took the time to make a personal reply.

I have plenty of stories, and if you want another, then let's go! This one is a little different. I am more inclined to believe the person who told me this little oddity. She happens to be my sister! Since I haven't talked to her about this (posting her little tale, I mean), I will call her "Karen" and hopefully avoid any potential embarrassment to her, should she happen to stumble across this post.

At the time, which would have been in the early winter of '90, Karen was dating an avid hunter. Although not much of an outdoorsperson herself, she would sometimes go with him (I suppose love can make you do that sort of thing).

I don't remember what they were hunting at the time; those of you who are hunters can probably guess because of the season, but they were deep in the woods, driving a 4-wheeler. Karen told me that their luck had been pretty bad that day, and they were just about ready to turn back for the dirt road where her boyfriend had parked his truck when the two other friends they had made the trip with pulled up on another 4-wheeler.

They were both rather excited about something, but wouldn't say what. The two insisted that Karen and her boyfriend follow them and they would show them "something interesting." Karen didn't really want to go. She said it was getting late, it was cold, and she was hungry, plus it was a good half-hour ride back to the truck.

The two were pretty insistent, however, and managed to cajole Karen's boyfriend (heck, I'll call him Buck) to come along.

They rode for another five or so minutes, until the woods began to thin out around them. Finally, they came upon a large clearing in which stood a rather dilapidated two story house. According to Karen, it was a woodframe house with a large, sagging front porch wrapped around the entire front. There was a very large picture window on the second floor facing the front, and Karen told me it surprised her that the glass wasn't broken out, like the windows on the lower floor.

Everyone dismounted, and stood there looking the place over. Buck thought it was sort of cool to find a place so far in the woods, but Karen told me she thought it was creepy.

The two friends pulled out flashlights, and were ready to explore. Karen said she put up a bit of a fuss, afraid to roam around some deserted house so far away from help should anyone happen to get hurt. The two friends begged and pleaded though, and she could see that Buck really wanted to poke around a little, so finally she gave in. Mostly, she told me, because it was getting later by the minute, and she didn't want to stand there wasting time arguing about it; better to go ahead and get it over with.

Well, the front door was practically hanging from the hinges, so they didn't have any trouble getting inside. They started poking through closets and cabinets, searching for who knows what. Karen stood watching them, wishing they could hurry up and just get the hell out.

Although it was getting late afternoon, there was still light to see by, and Karen, getting bored with just watching Buck and the others, decided to see what might be upstairs. She started up, and told me that when she got halfway to the top, suddenly she began to feel shaky and nervous. She said that the urge to just get the hell out of there grew strong, but before she could start back down the stairs, the others were on their way up. She wanted to say something to Buck, but didn't want to embarrass herself in front of the others, so just decided to keep quiet.

The first room they encountered on the second floor was the room looking out the large picture window. When they entered, Karen told me that she actually felt her flesh begin to crawl.

Standing before the window, looking out over the front of the house was a single chair. Why the sight of a chair should cause such a strong reaction, Karen couldn't really say. She said that when she saw it, an image flashed in her mind of someone sitting in that chair only moments ago, watching as they had pulled up on their 4-wheelers.

The image was in fact so strong, Karen said she turned to Buck and told him she wanted to go, NOW. The others suddenly seemed to be in a similar frame of mind, because no one wanted to argue the point. But it was only when they turned to go that the real shock hit.

On both sides of the doorway stood floor to ceiling bookshelves. On these shelves sat row after row of severed doll's heads. The sight of such a thing, Karen said, hit her like a hammer blow. It was so mindless and unexpected, it just left her feeling weak. Nevertheless, they moved a little closer, and saw that the heads were not only severed, but spattered with red, as if with blood. Buck reached out and touched one with a finger, but it came away dry. She said she thought she heard Buck say something about paint, but at that very second, the chair behind them gave a very audible scrape, then a creak, as though someone had sat down.

Well, none of them turned around for a look. Karen said they flew down those stairs as though on wings, got on those 4-wheelers, and simply did what she'd wanted to do all along: got the hell out of there.

As they moved out of the clearing, Karen told me that she glanced back and swore that she saw a figure in that upstairs window. Of course she was pretty worked up, and bumping along on the back of a 4-wheeler, so...who knows?

So that was her story. She said that she has a good laugh about it now, but...also admitted that sometimes when she's alone at night...well, she can't help but wonder who, or what was in that chair.

Karen was very adamant about that sound. I asked her if it wasn't possible that it was merely the house settling. After all, they were walking around a house that had probably stood empty for years, but she insists that it was most definately the chair.

The significance of the doll's heads is beyond me. I imagine that if I had seen such a thing, it would creep me out too.

As in the previous offering, I can offer no proof of its authenticity. I merely relate the tale as it was related to me. Buck and the two others backed Karen's story every step of the way, and they had no reason to want to pull one over on me. I can't help but accept it at face value, and consider it a true story.

After all, if you can't trust your own sister, who can you trust?

[ARCHIVIST'S NOTE: Dana's previous story is in the archives under the title "dying.girl"]