D.K. SHEPARD

To Andrew’s horror a chin and face emerged from the painting. A face that he had to admit resembled his own. 

“Without someone to live in it, a house is just a house,” the attendant chuckled. Manic laughter echoed all around. “And as you can see, we’re in need of a new tenant."

"There was only one rule: don’t open the door,” Corbin explained.

“And who made that rule?” Dr. Parsons asked.

“The shadow doctor.”

And to all of them he was known only as a nameless silhouette. They called him the Shadow Doctor and he liked it that way.

Ghosts weren’t real, just delusions of the weak minded or inventions of attention seekers. And yet what else could he possibly be seeing?

The word “DANGER” was scrawled across the mirror in what appeared to be blood. Then her eyes caught another fleck of red. One bloody toothpick on the bench.