Joey nudged Lance. "Man, you look pale. Something the matter?" Lance edged the bus out of the grass and onto Juniper Street. "No, I guess not. But don�t you feel it?" "Feel what?" Lance shuddered. "A feeling of�well�wrongness." Justin jokingly pat him on the shoulder. "Boy, it must be the bump on the forehead. Relax! You�re imagination�s running an 800 meter relay." Lance huffed his response. They entered Whispers. The buildings were locked up. The only real lights were the luminous street lamps. No one was out and about. Just darkness and total quiet. "Where is everybody?" Joey wondered. Most of the shops were adorned with out-of-business signs. "Maybe it�s a ghost town?" Not even the faintest sounds of music, television, or laughter could be heard. Suddenly, an old lady turned the corner. Lance slowed the bus and rolled down the window. "Excuse me, ma�am, but can you tell me where a hotel is?" The crippled lady glowered. "Who are you?" "We�re lost. We need a place to stay for the night." She replied with her raspy voice, "Go away! We don�t want you, and�" she added, "If you enjoy being alive, I recommend you find a different town!" Lance felt a second river of shudders course through his spine. "Is there or is there not a hotel?" The woman pointed her cane in the east direction. "Go down Briar Ave. Look for Talbot Shore Inn." The inn was old-fashioned, resembling a past bed-n-breakfast. The engine sputtered and died just as Lance parked on the stone sidewalk. Each guy grabbed one suitcase. Together, Nsync entered the hotel lobby. Candles and lanterns were lit everywhere. A hunchback stood behind the clerk desk. Lance did his best not to stare. The hunchback didn�t seem to mind. "Go ahead and stare. I�m a freak, so I�m used to the attention. May I help you?" JC signed their names in the logbook. "We need a room please." The hunchback motioned toward the iron spiral staircase. "My name is Gregory Talbot. Isabella, my daughter, will show you to your rooms." JC noticed no other names were signed in the logbook. "Are we the only guests?" "Obviously." Gregory handed them their room keys. A fragile young girl stood at the stair landing. Lance nearly gasped. The left side of Isabella�s face was horribly deformed. Her left arm and leg were twisted. She limped to get their bags. "Follow me." Chris, Justin, and JC�s rooms were located on the second floor. Lance and Joey settled in on the third floor.
Lance flopped down on the quilted bed. The room was spacious. Not pretty but adequate. The room looked kind of creepy considering candles lighted it. Perhaps the power is out. Someone knocked softly on his door. He answered it. Joey and Isabella waited. "What�s going on Joey?" As the three climbed to the second floor and Isabella retrieved the rest of the clan, Joey explained. "The Talbots invited us to eat dinner with them. He also mentioned some papers we needed to see."
Nsync sat around the long wooden table, eating a rather delicious dinner. "Who�s your cook?" Chris kidded, "I think I may hire her." Lance finished his chicken. "That was delicious." Gregory entered the dining room. Isabella shuffled behind him, holding five papers. Justin remembered something he�d been meaning to inquire about. "Are the power lines messing up? We really have to call Johnny." Gregory nodded. "Unfortunately. Isabella, pass out the papers." The five shot each other puzzled looks while she gave them their sheet of paper. Lance read the title. FEAR LIST. Below was a peculiar list. "Now," Gregory instructed, "Each item on the list is a fear. Next to it is a box. If you are afraid of that item, check its box. When finished, hand the papers to Isabella." Lance recalled the scary old lady�s warning. Surely this is a joke they play on tourists. The others must have read his thoughts, because they instantly went to work. Lance studied the list. PAIN, FIRE, WATER, SMALL SPACES, FAILURE, NOT BEING LOVED, DEATH�This fear list is insane! No way will I fill this thing out. He flung the paper across the table. "I�m sorry, but that is too weird for me." Gregory glared. "Fill it out." Lance retreated out of the dining hall. "Forget it." Gregory spun him around. "I�m warning you�" Isabella tugged at the hem of her dad�s shirt. "Papa, please stop!" Scared by Mr. Talbot�s hostility, Lance dashed up the stairs and locked the door of his room.
In the bathroom, Lance brushed his teeth. Joey closed the musty curtains. "Gee, those Fear Lists were pretty creepy." Lance spit out toothpaste. "Then why did you waste your time filling one out?" Joey shrugged. "Nothing better to do." He yawned. "Well, I�m tired. Good night man." Lance emerged from the bathroom. "Good night." After Joey left, Lance blew the candles out, said his prayers and snuggled under the covers. Despite utter exhaustion, he found sleep impossible. The darkness unnerved him. Shadows along the walls spooked him. The silence, combined with his shallow breathing, was unbearable. Around midnight, just as Lance began drifting to sleep, a sound woke him. Tap�tap�clickety-click�tap�tap�clickety-click�He sat up. Something was tapping on the window. He carefully slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the window. Nothing. Suddenly, the doorknob rattled. Lance�s heart leaped to his throat. Somebody was trying to break in! Raspy breathing and snarling could be heard outside. Lance pressed his ear to the door. Four voices cackled wickedly. "Get him. Must hunt. Need blood. Need life. The master wants him. Break the door down!" Panicking, Lance shoved a chair against the door. Sweat trickled down his forehead. The things slammed against the wood. At first, the lock didn�t budge. The second time, wood splintered. Desperate, Lance locked himself in the bathroom and lit a single candle. The pounding continued outside. Lance glimpsed at his reflection in the mirror. Echoed by candlelight, his face appeared ghostly pale, haggard, and very afraid. Is that really my face? The wood gave way as the splintered door crashed. Footsteps pattered across the floor. "Get him. Get him. Full of blood. Master�s orders�" Lance curled up in the bathtub, whimpering. Finally, he cried himself to a fitful sleep.