Ever since you were just children, you and Miles have had a taste for the paranormal.

Nearly every night is spent exploring, using ouija boards, and cheap spirit boxes. Neither of you experienced much, though.

Recently, you’ve wanted to kick it up a notch, much to Miles’ dismay.

Using convincing excuses for your respective parents and/or guardians, plus signing the waivers, you two have flown from New York to Rhode Island.

Now you’re here. Miles’ chest deflates, his eyes boring into the Conjuring House in all its glory.

“You first.” He offers abruptly, moving out of the way.