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There was this feeling, a foreboding. It only lasted a moment, then everything changed. I stood there overlooking the town I grew up in, Rochelle, Kansas. So much had happened since I last looked down on this little hamlet. I listened and smiled as I heard the town hall clock strike twelve.
My name is Christopher Blake. My Father and his brother started The Thriller Theater here in the town, many, many years ago. The Blake brothers were known for putting on quite a show. People would come from all over to watch an old black and white horror flick.
When my father, David Blake was killed, my mother moved us as far away as she could get. Uncle Dean made sure that mom got dad’s cut from the theater so we always had enough but I always hated that building. It kept dad away from home. It was always creepy and everyone said it was haunted. After all, the house they tore down to build it was haunted. Lots of murder in there. I think the biggest reason was that my father died there. And then there was that thing in the back of the building…. I’m getting ahead of myself, let me tell you my story of my return to The Thriller Theater.