I’m writing this letter while tucked away in my basement office, surrounded by books and ephemera. As I sit here, I think about Anger, New Hampshire, and about the dead that lurk within it.
I’m a New England boy. I know not to trust the weather, and when things are just a little off when you pass through a small town. Anger is one of those towns. One of those, dark places on the edge of a highway. A little settlement where you wander through in your car and the temperature drops a few degrees.
I like to drive the backroads of New England, to see what’s out there—the private cemeteries and burial grounds, old houses leaning on their foundations and others who have been swallowed whole by the earth, country churches, and Freemason buildings—all imbued with some sort of malignant energy.
These are stamped on my mind and I think of those buildings lining the streets of Anger, New Hampshire. Those same structures stand in front of the dark places I have seen, and they will beckon us in.
Because that’s what we want, when it comes right down to it. We want to go in, to know what evil is waiting for us.
For the best reading experience, read the Tormented Souls series in the following order:
See you in the shadows,