On a dark All Hallows Eve in Salem, Massachusetts, a man named Smith Jacobson was burned at the stake for witchcraft.

Although he was innocent, the townspeople drug him from his home and tied him to a stake. He was burned in front of his own family, for no reason.

Before he died, Smith screamed at the top of his lungs,"I will have my revenge!"

Eight years after the death of Smith Jacobson, a brutal lynching took place in the town of Salem. A man by the name of Nathan Lawrence was beaten within an inch of his life and then hung by barbwire, because he hadn't been to mass that morning.

The town magistrate knew who had killed Nathan, but didn't do anything about it.

The next morning, the five men that had killed Nathan Lawrence, were found in their beds with their hearts torn out.

The Civil War was raging. A Yankee regiment had learned of a family in Salem that were southern sympathizer's. In the middle of a dark Devils Night, the night, ten soldiers stormed into the house and drug every man, woman, and child out into the front yard and slaughtered them all.

The next day, the Captain in command discovered the bodies of the ten soldiers. Their bodies had been ripped apart.

An evil man named David Chantel killed three people out of cold blood on All Souls Eve. It was rumored that he had made a deal with the Devil and that he couldn't die of natural causes. After he killed the three friends, no one ever saw him again.

A man named Vinchenzo Armoni owed Rocky Margretta money. He was late paying so Rocky sent a man after Vinchenzo. The man crept into Vinchenzo's small Apartment and shot him in the head.

The next morning, the killer and Rocky Margretta were found riddled with bullet holes, but there were no bullets in either of their bodies. And flesh was torn down under each wound, as if there was a hook attached to the bullet.

It was a dreary day in Salem, Massachusetts. The weather forecast predicted that it would be a rainy Halloween. Although it hadn't rained yet, the dark clouds were building and building into a rainstorm. Ten-year-old Tommy Blevins though that if you shot an arrow up into the sky, it would burst.

He couldn't wait to go trick-or-treating the next night. His mother had made him a skeleton costume. He would wear it to school the next day and then go home before getting candy.

Tommy couldn't take it any longer. He had to try and shoot the sky so that it would rain now and not the next night. He went down to the basement of his house and found his little plastic bow. Then he grabbed one of his fathers sharp hunting arrows. He walked outside and aimed the arrow straight up, and right when he let go someone shooted. Tommy lost his grip and the arrow went flying up and came down behind him, with the arrowhead pointing toward the sky.

He looked around and saw to big boys dressed all in black standing on the sidewalk in front of Tommy's house.

"Hey, it's a stupid little kid trying to shoot a bow and arrow," the shortest one said.

"Yeah. He sucks at it. Run along," the taller one mimicked a grandparent," I think it's past your bedtime."

Tommy said the only insulting thing he knew. "Shut up, freak weirdo."

The tallest ones eye's narrowed and he stopped laughing.

"What'd you say to me? Huh?"

"I said 'Shut up, freak weirdo'," Tommy replied boldly.

The tall one charged at Tommy and punched the little boy full force in the face. Tommy fell backwards and tried to keep his balance, but he fell into the sharp point of the arrow.

Enraged, the older boy didn't try to help him. He pushed Tommy's small body further onto the arrow.

Tommy could feel his spine crack as the arrow penetrated it and worked it's way to his heart. His last thought on this earth was ' I want to go trick-or-treating'.

"Dude! Oh my GOD! You killed him!" said the terrified Mitch Dendrough. His face had turned pale once he realized that there was an innocent little boy impaled by the arrow. Then he realized that his best friend had done it.

"Well, he deserved it," Joe Clemenson said, very quietly.

"What are we gonna do? Did anyone see? You KILLED him!" Mitch was freaking out.

p "Shut up, retard," Joe yelled." Come and help me. NOW!"

Mitch inched his way toward Tommy Blevins as Joe started picking up the limp, lifeless body.

"We gotta carry it to the alley. The garbage truck comes later today,"Joe tried to explain." All we gotta do is dump his body into the dumpster out back and then poof. All of the evidence is gone."

"Oh my God," Mitch said over and over to himself as they carried the small, bloody body to the dumpster in the alley. Blood flowed freely from the lifeless body, covering the two teenagers hands and shirt sleeves.

"Almost there," Joe grunted.

They finally reached the alley. Making sure the coast was clear, they got to the large dumpster and heaved Tommy Blevins ten-year-old body into it. Joe pulled a pack of Marlboro Lights from his pocket and offered Mitch one before taking one himself. He light it with a black lighter and took a long drag before exhaling. Mitch did the same.

p "What are we gonna do about the blood in the yard and the alley street and on us?" Mitch finally asked Joe."I mean, won't someone see it?" He had started crying silently to himself.

"I don't know." Joe took another drag on his cigarette. "It's Halloween tomorrow. If no one sees it until then, it could be thought of a fake blood."

"Yeah. But what if someone sees it before then?" Mitch asked as he took a long drag and started coughing.

"Then we'll basically be screwed over, won't we."

They finished their cigarettes and stomped them out on the ground.

"I gotta go home," said Mitch. He could really feel the tears coming on.

"Yeah. Me to."

Mitch opened the front door and walked blankly to his room. He started crying crazily as soon as he closed and locked his door. After a few minutes, he got up and opened his window. Plugging his fan in, he pulled a Camel Wide from its pack and lit it up. After he had taken a couple of drags, his phone started ringing.

"Hello?" he said as he picked up the reciever.

p "Dude," it was Joe," we gotta get outta here. The cops found the little kids body! We gotta run!"

"WHAT! They found him!?"

"Yeah. Get some clothes together. I know a place to go. No one'll ever find us. Bring everything we'll need. Including smokes. Bye."

Oh my God. I gotta get outta here before my parents get home! Mitch thought to himself. He ran to his closet and pulled out his old sleeping bag and started throwing his clothes in. He grabbed his carton of cigarettes and threw them in. In went some socks, boxer shorts, toothbrush, toothpaste, brush, jeans, shirts, and his long, flowing trenchcoat. Then he walked into his dad's handgun and some extra clips. He put this in his pocket. He threw on his Dr. Marten boots and grabbed his sleeping bag . . . right when his dad pulled into the driveway.

Oh God. Mitch didn't think and jumped out of the window. He took of down the street faster than he had ever run before. His shoulder-length bleached blonde hair flew behind him as he ran to Joe's house.

Five minutes later, Mitch was running up Joe's driveway. Joe came around the house with his sleeping bag and his things stuffed inside.

"Come on, follow me," was all Joe said as he led Mitch down the street. They walked in silence for a few minutes until they got to someone's yard and Joe turned into the woods. Then they heard police sirens.

"Oh CRAP!" Joe yelled as he ran deeper into the woods. They ran for about two miles and then Joe all of a sudden stopped. He squatted down and brushed some leaves away to reveal a wooden door into the ground. He jumped into the hole and pulled his stuff down after him. Mitch followed.

Inside the hole, Mitch saw shelves and shelves full of potted meat and bottled water. There was more stuff down there that Mitch couldn't make out for the lack of light.

"What is this?" Mitch asked.

"Some old bomb shelter that I found. And ever since the Y2K scare, I figured I'd be on the safe side. So I came and cleaned it up and I've been stocking up ever since."

"Wow!"

"Yeah. Pretty cool, isn't it. No one'll find us here in a million years." said Joe comfortingly. "So, did you bring smokes?"

"Yeah," Mitch pulled the two cartons from his sleeping bag and threw them on Joe's sleeping bag.

"Cool. Let's see. We got Camel Wides and Marlboro Lights," Joe examined.

"Yeah. So, what are we gonna do?" Mitch asked Joe.

"Well, we're gonna have to lay low until we find out if the cops know who did it. If they figure out that we're the ones who killed him, then we'll make a brake for Canada or Mexico. Whichever comes easier. If nothing happens, then we'll just go back. We'll tell everyone that we left to blow off some steam."

Then, he gave Mitch a look he'd never forget. "You know what. It felt kinda good to kill that little kid."

"What!? You're glad you killed him? " Mitch couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"It was the fact that his life was in my hands. I had complete authority over him. I've never felt that before."

"Are you saying you wanted to kill him?"

"Not necessarily. I did the minute he called me a freak weirdo. So I used my anger . . ."

"What would you do if someone did that to you?"

"I'd stare them in the eye's and say 'Go ahead'."

Mitch lit a cigarette and started to explore the hideout. Joe had showed him where a kerosene lantern was. Mitch lit the lamp with his lighter and walked around the shelter. He walked to the darkest end and found a large, thick quilt hanging on what he had mistaken for a wall. He pulled the quilt aside andsaw a long tunnel that led into a large pile of leaves.

"Hey Joe, what's this," Mitch called. Joe got up from his spot and walked over.

"Oh, this is the emergency exit. I covered it with leaves. Good idea, huh?"

"Yeah." Mitch threw his cigarette on the ground and stamped it out. "But what if someone finds it and comes in that way?"

"Then we climb up the ladder." As he said this, Joe pulled a string and a rope ladder fell from the side of the hole.

"Cool. Guess you done thought of everything."

They messed around for a little while and then went to sleep.

Mitch woke up to the sucking sounds. Then he heard the crunching. The awful crunching. It sounded like bone being snapped in to. He looked over and saw the form of Joe in the darkness. Then he heard the crunch again.

"What the . . ."

Then another figure took shape. It was a horned, wrinkled form. Even though it was almost pitch black, Mitch could see the nightmare perfectly. Hanging from its mouth was a large piece of Joe's throat.

The creature stood and yanked Joe's body up with it. It took one last bite out of the corpses and started making its way toward Mitch. He couldn't even scream. The creature advanced on him and when it was ten feet away, Mitch finally unfroze. He turned around and tripped over a carton of cigarettes, spilling its contents all over the ground. He grabbed a few packs and ran for the leaf exit. It seemed like it took forever, like he was running in the opposite direction on a moving sidewalk. Finally he made it to the wall of leaves. He ran through faster than he had ever run before. Leaves flew everywhere. Then . . .

Mitch was out in the cool night air. He felt safe, then he heard the creature howl. It sounded like a woman in pain and a howling dog. It chilled Mitch to the bone. He started running again. He heard it charge through the tunnel and come after him. Heart thudding in his chest, he wished that he hadn't disobeyed his dad and gone with Joe. Then ommy Blevins might still be alive.

He ran and ran, always hearing the dreadful footsteps right behind him. The creature obviously wasn't going to stop until Mitch was in its grasp. Finally he saw a way out. He spotted a large tree that was hollowed out. There was a large hole in the side and he ran around the tree out of the creatures sight and lunged into the hole.

All of a sudden, the creature stopped a few feet away from the tree. Mitch listened as the leaves under it's feet crunched and then the footsteps pounded away. He looked out of the hole to make sure it was gone. Then he pulled himself out of the tree and lowered himself to the ground. He wondered why the creature had left.

Mitch walked around for a few minutes until he heard a strange, wheezing voice.

"It's back again. Isn't it?"

Mitch spun around and found himself staring at an extremely old man with a long, flowing beard. He wore some torn, baggy pants and a half unbuttoned flannel shirt.

"Don't worry. It can't come here. We're on holy ground." The man motioned with his arm and Mitch made out the shapes of tombstones all around him.

p "Who are you? And what is that thing?" Mitch asked desperately. He could feel tears building up in his eye's.

"I'm David Chantel. I was born in 1873. When I was young, I made a deal with the Devil to live an exeptionally long life. He kept his word. That thing is a demon from a place in Hell called EchoSide. Do you want to hear the whole story boy?"

Mitch nodded, glad someone could finally tell him what was going on.

"A man named Smith Jacobson was burned at the stake for witchcraft in 1699 in Salem. He was innocent and he went to Hell. He requested that he return to earth every All Hallows Eve to avenge the deaths of people killed on the very same day. His request was granted. Its only flaw is that it cannot go on holy ground and it will die from sunlight. It lives in the Realm of EchoSide, which is only one level of Hell."

Mitch reached into an open pack and pulled out a cigarette. He offered one to the old man, but was refused.

"So. Who did you kill?" the old man asked.

"Huh? How did you know?" Mitch asked.

"Because in 1899, I killed three people walking on All Souls Eve. That night, the demon came for me. I barely made it here."

"How do you know all of this?"

"It only comes on Halloween. I can walk around and do whatever I want. I go to the library and research on the legend of EchoSide almost every day, trying to find a way to kill it."

"Have you found a way?" Mitch asked as he took a long drag on his cigarette.

"Only one. I would never do it," the old man said. He took a swig off a large bottle of Jack Daniels that Mitch hadn't noticed. He continued,"You still haven't answered my question. Who'd you kill?"

Mitch shuddered,"How did you know?"

"Because it only comes after a killer who's killed an innocent person on Halloween. So who was it?"

"First of all, I didn't kill anybody. I was walking around with my friend Joe and we saw this little kid trying to shoot a bow and arrow. We started making fun of him and he cracked on Joe. Joe stabbed him with an arrow. Then we ran. I didn't do anything; I was just there. I went to sleep in our hiding place and the thing woke me up and . . . it killed Joe. It killed him."

With this, Mitch went to the ground crying.

"Hey kid," Chantel said, patting his shoulder as the tears flowed freely,"It's gonna be all right."

Mitch cried for a few minutes and then wiped his eyes, trying to suck it up.

"How can I kill that thing. It killed my friend. I've gotta kill it. I ain't got nothing to live for anyway." Mitch said. "When I go back home, the cops will get me. So I might as well just try to kill it for any innocent retards like me."

"You don't want to try to kill it." Explained Chantel, "If it won the fight, you'd be sent to Hell. There's no way you can defeat it, unless if you have the Knife of Asitar. The only way to get that is to ask the Warlock to give it to you. Then he will give you Three Tasks to complete before he gives it to you. I tried them, but the Third Task was impossible. Then you have to go to the Realm of EchoSide and fight it."

"What were the tasks?"

"I can't tell a soul. If I do, the Warlock will send his Demon Dogs after me."

Mitch was starting to get annoyed. "Can you at least tell me where I can find the Warlock?"

p Chantel thought for a moment. "He's over the hill and under the ground."

"What?!"

"Exactly what I said. You go over the hill over there," Chantel pointed and Mitch made out the shape of a small rise. Chantel continued,"When you get over the hill, you go under the ground through a cave."

"Thanks." Mitch started to walk off but Chantel stopped him.

"Give this to the Warlock. Tell him Chantel sends greetings."

Chantel threw a silver object with the engraven picture of a demon forming out of the smoke.

"Thanks again," Mitch replied and he left.

The music led Mitch to the cave.

The cave opening wasn't very large. In fact, Mitch had to duck his head in to get through. As soon as he entered, a rumbling came from behind. He turned to look and saw the last of the night sky disappear as the entrance closed up. He didn't care. The music soothed his soul and made him forget all about what he had come to the cave to do.He wanted, no, he had to find the source if the enchanting music.

The narrow passage kept getting smaller and smaller. Fragments of dirt fell on his clothes and in his hair. A few narled tree roots were shoved threw the passage walls. But Mitch didn't care. The music was getting closer.

All of a sudden, Mitch crawled into a large chamber. Large stalactites hung from the ceiling. A large, black throne with red velvet cushions was positioned on the wall at the other end of the cavern. There was a tall mirrior in the center of all four walls.

All of a sudden, the music stopped. Mitch looked around as if he could catch it if he saw it. When he turned back around, a tall, hooded figure wearing a long, flowing robe was standing in front of the throne. He looked and saw that on each of its fingers, there was a large golden ring. Its long, sharp fingernails were colored a shiny black. It's face wasn't visible because of the large hood.

Then it spoke.

"What have you come here for, boy?" it said in a deep, raspy voice.

Mitch managed to stutter,"I'm loo-looking for the Warlock."

"I am he. What do you wish?" the looming figure asked.

p Remembering what Chantel had said, Mitch pulled the large silver disk from his pocket and showed it to the Warlock.

"Chantel sends his regards."

"So, you've seen Chantel. You are here, why?"

"I want the Knife of Asitar so that I can go to the Realm of Echoside and kill the Demon."

"Why?"

"It killed my best friend and now it's trying to kill me."