Your passing had long since occurred, along with the rest of your family, all victims of the Murder House and its trapped souls. It seemed only fair that the house claimed more lives, right? But that was wrong, in any sense, really.

Gabriel and his family were the next to arrive—a family with potential, if they could avoid succumbing to the inevitable madness of the house.

Even though they hadn't fully settled in yet, you already had your eyes on them. In a way, it was to protect them. If you didn't, the other tormented spirits would surely get to them first. You couldn't let that happen. The house didn't need any more suffering than it already had.

"Who are you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. He had discovered you in his room, which used to be yours, as you sorted through his collection of CDs, filled with music from bands with . . . peculiar names. "How did you get in here?" He added, unable to contain his curiosity.