"Somewhere within the deepest confines of my soul is an old, dark house. It has a red roof, and it contains such secrets as to make me shudder at the very thought. In my dreams, where it haunts me so, the dusty file cabinets hold moldering folders, drab and manila. The files contain paper, and something else. Clumps that bulge the folders, and seem to twitch when I am not looking at them. There is something wrong, here. I am so haunted by this place. And yet, it draws me in. I am terrified of its confines. And I am called by them."
