The blood moon, swinging low in the heavens, casts long, deep shadows over the countryside. The big orange orb is high in the sky by the time Elena arrives at the old and rundown Lockwood mansion, located well past city limits.

The day had been warm, but once the sun slipped below the horizon, the chill set in making her wish she had remembered to grab a jacket. Damon would've insisted but he's been gone on assignment for several days now. He called last night and she fell asleep with her cell phone next to her ear. She misses him and hopes he finishes his work soon.

When they first met, the man swore up and down that he didn't want or need a girlfriend. With a little nudge every now and then from her, eventually he came to realize that he couldn't and didn't want to live without her, nor does she without him. Each day together proves a little more that they are two halves of a whole. Their minds, their hearts, their bodies fit so perfectly together, it's as if they truly had been formed to complement each other.

With today being Halloween, Elena had taken her niece Jill to both the library and the Paranormal Museum in Asbury Park to do some research for a school project. Jill is interested in cryptozoology and has to do an assignment on a creature of her choosing - the infamous Jersey Devil. Everyone in the state has heard the story even if it's a different variation of it.

Legend has it that a young girl was either cursed by a gypsy or cursed as a traitor by the town folk after she fell in love with a British soldier. This girl, a resident of the Pine Barrens, New Jersey, became known as Mother Leeds and is said to have had 12 children. Upon discovering she was pregnant with a 13th, she cursed it in frustration, "let it be the Devil!"

In some versions of the story Mother Leeds is a witch, and the father of the child is the Devil himself. After being born on a dark and stormy night in 1735, the beautiful child quickly transformed into a hideous creature. Its wails became frightening growls as the baby began to grow at a very fast rate while at the same time sprouting horns on top of its head. Tips of the fingers were replaced by very sharp claws and the eyes started glowing red. The creature lunged at its mother, tore her to pieces then unfolded its wings and flew into the night.

Since 2008 the museum in Asbury Park has curated a collection of oddities, some "haunted" dolls, and the jewel in their crown — a skull thought to be that of the Jersey Devil. Inhabiting the Pine Barrens of Southern New Jersey, the legendary beast has been described as a kangaroo-like creature with the head of a goat, horse, or dog - depending on the source. It also has bat wings, horns, cloven hooves, claws, and a forked tail. It can move with impressive speed and emits a blood-curdling scream to make its presence known.

In the beginning, it would feast upon cattle and sheep, then it moved on to terrorizing people with its unearthly scream in the surrounding rural areas and beyond. According to legend, the appearance of this creature foretells disaster in the form of shipwrecks, war, crop failures, or other unfortunate events. However, no human has ever reported being directly harmed by the beast.

With her head in the museum's flyer, Elena walked right into the dangling claw of a life-sized model suspended from the ceiling with its wings extended in flight, she shrieked and nearly jumped out of her skin. Her intrepid niece had a good laugh and promised to never let her forget the embarrassing incident.

Over the years it has been hunted by Revolutionary War soldiers, local constabulary, State Police, and hordes of college students, no doubt fueled by liberal amounts of alcohol and weed. While in college, Elena remembers taking part in one of the Devil Hunts herself during frat week. Of course it ended with her and her then boyfriend passed out drunk in his dorm room. The last reported sighting was in 2015 and historically, October is the month when most sightings of the Jersey Devil have occurred.

After dropping Jill off, she stayed to have supper with Jeremy and his family. No sooner had Elena said goodnight and was about to get in her car to drive home when her cell phone rang. It was Ric, asking her to check reports of a 'ghost' - most likely kids messing around - sighted on the abandoned Lockwood property. After a back and forth with him about how she's supposed to investigate a ghost, she finally threw her arms up in frustration and agreed. According to him, she's the only one available to investigate since the others have children to take trick or treating. With Damon gone, she has nothing better to do with her evening anyway. Before turning her car around to drive back out into the country, she gets herself a strong cup of coffee at their local Dunkin' Donuts.

She pulls onto gravel road that leads of the mansion and parks along the side of the road near the entrance. The iron gate had been forged probably at the time of the home's construction. It's easily ten feet tall and made of twisted black rods. At the end some are curled in convoluted patterns and opportunist spiders have created webs there. The latch is rusted and she struggles to lift it. Several minutes and a few curse words later, she finally manages to push one side of it open just enough to allow her to squeeze through.

Even in the daylight, the place is hair raising and at this hour, it's actually spine chilling. This isn't the first time she's been here. One Halloween night while in high school, they had a big kegger on the property. It was a bitch to get in but somehow they managed. Between the drunk kids, the stoners, and the noise, it didn't take long for the sheriff to show up and break up the party.

She considers the old house for a moment, It was no doubt a beautiful mansion at one time. The estate, more than 250 years old, is built on a parcel of prime real estate on the Delaware River. With a little love and elbow grease, she wonders if it could be restored to its original glory. Having been abandoned for many years, the grounds are rundown and look like a jungle. Huge old growth forest and waist high weeds are everywhere. Tree branches lean over both sides of the driveway, their bare limbs holding hands across the road. Dead leaves, thick on the ground scatter with each light gust of wind. Clouds crawling across the moon create ghostly shadows that dance in and out of the overgrown brush and shrubs. Her flashlight picks up little wisps of fog that swirl across what's left of the driveway.

The place is said to be haunted by the ghost of Katherine Lockwood. She was allegedly murdered by her husband. Rumor has it that he rushed to the organ loft to play the instrument before leaping four stories to his death. According to local legend, the organ keys are still stained with her blood and not even Bon Ami could lift the smears.

Elena walks closer to the house. What's left of the gravel path is now overrun with leaves and weeds. The bushes lining the edges are overgrown, partially blocking the way. Moving in the darkness, she takes deliberate steps and still the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. As she slows even more to step over a downed tree, something touches her brunette locks, making her shriek out loud. Perhaps it was an owl or maybe even a bat? She shudders at the thought and is quickly wondering why she agreed to come here? She pauses and runs her flashlight over the old gothic fountain, and nearly trips over her own feet when the beam lands on the gargoyle's sinister stare that seems to follow her every movement.

The only light comes from the moon and her flashlight. No matter which way she turns, eerie sounds echo from the woods surrounding the property. Feeling goosebumps erupt, she reaches into her bag for her phone and pushes Ric's icon.

"Elena!" he answers the call and she can hear "Trick or treat" in the background.

"What exactly am I supposed to be looking for - a ghost? This place has the creep factor down pat, it's the perfect setting for Jason, Michael Myers, lions, tigers and bears, oh my," she adds with a hefty dose of sarcasm.

Ric laughs, "Sorry Elena, any other night, I'd have gone but... We've had a whole string of reports about spooky noises, it's probably some kids messing around. Honoria Fell said she saw Tiki's grandpa get hit over the head with a 2x4 on the west end of the property. She went on and on about the 'killing'. And you'll get a kick out of this, she was at the police station reporting his murder when Luke brought him in. You should have heard her lay into the old guy "You're supposed to be dead!"

"Ha ha," she retorts, shaking her head.

"Give it a walk around... Um... do you have recorder, I mean in case you hear any ghostly sounds? If you find something, I'll give you the headline on Friday's edition... um, do you have your taser?"

"Yes, I have it! Why? Do you expect me to need it?"

"No of course not," he starts when she hears, "Come on dad, we have to go to the next house."

"Anything else besides the walk around?"

"If you find anything out of the ordinary, call me back. Otherwise, just go in, check the place out, send the kids home then you can call it a night."

""Dad," comes through the phone again.

"Bye," she clicks it off then fishes for her taser at the bottom of the bag and drops her phone in. Running the flashlight beam over the front of the building, into the dense shrubs and along the circular drive, she approaches the house. After staring at it for several minutes, she shrugs her shoulders, cuts across the dead lawn to walk around it.

She shines the light and swallows thickly as the beam plays tricks on the dirty panes of glass. Fog from the Delaware River swirls through the overgrown garden and snakes around her feet in wraithlike tendrils. Small noises make her jumpy and she can't shake the feeling that something is watching her but finds nothing when she circles the area with her flashlight. As Elena comes around the other side of the house to the front door, her light picks up the little cemetery to her left. A shudder runs through her but she approaches it anyway.

Moss-laden marble pillars stand as despairing guards on either side of the threshold. Behind the wrought-iron gates are the now crumbling gravestones, their engraved epitaphs bathe in light spilt from the moon. Gnarled trees hunch over most of the expanse, plunging the rest in shadow. Shining her light beam slowly over the five monuments, she pauses her beam on one of them. 'George Lockwood 1789-1847'.

"Holy mother," she exclaims, this is a guy who supposedly had an encounter with the Jersey Devil in the 1830's. Looking over her shoulders, she runs to the front door, lets herself in amid a swirl of dead leaves that blow through the foyer when she opens it. In the darkness of the old house, cobwebs lie as traps. Each one is enough to make her heart gallop. The mansion is eerily silent except for the crackle of the cobwebs when they contact her shirt or even worse her face. Much of the stickiness is gone, encased in layers of dust, yet they still cling in a way that spooks her.

Suddenly a banging sound nearly launches her a foot in the air. Keeping her flashlight in one hand and her taser in the other, she finds the source of the sound - loose shutters. Streaks of pure white crackle against a stormy blanket of grey, shrouding hot silver clouds with its blinding incandescence, emanating the might of an imminent tempest. Jagged bolts endlessly protrude, filling the sky with undying flashes of radiance.

She shivers as the wind blows through the house with a powerful passion, scattering the fall leaves and banging the doors as if they are its chaotic drum beat - the marching band of one without fingers or hands.

Brushing the back of her hand across her damp forehead, she takes a breath then proceeds further into the house, moving as quietly as she can. She steps out of the domed foyer and into the hall, playing the beam of light over the floorboards and walls. Through open doorways she notices furniture covered with white dust sheets, chandeliers wrapped and mirrors draped in the same fabric that creates eerie shapes and adds to the ominous atmosphere of the place.

Dead tree branches tap on the windowpanes and she jumps at the sound. Those same naked limbs send shadows creeping across the floors and up the walls. Elena moves a little faster, tiptoeing as quietly as she can. She stops for a moment to admire the staircase at the far end of the room. It has two 360 degree turns and no visible means of support. It's been said that the staircase was built without nails—only wooden pegs. Questions also surround the types of wood and other materials used in the stairway's construction. If there are any surviving members of the Lockwood family left to tell the tale, none of them have ever stepped forward to do so or to claim the property.

As she passes under the steps into the darkest part of the house, something brushes against her. Her eyes dart all around as she runs the flashlight beam over the room and up the steps, nothing. With her taser ready, she turns and starts her ascent, the wood creaking beneath her feet. Despite the eerieness - as long as she's here - she wants to see the organ loft and see for herself if there really are blood stains on the keys.

She nearly jumps out of her shoes when a strong gust of wind causes the door to slam shut, the noise reverberates through the empty old house. A second slam and she almost turns around to flee - almost. Coming to a set of doors, she puts her hand on the knob and turns with a little effort, it opens. Raising the beam she's astonished to find another staircase, this one hidden. She pauses for a moment and leans against the door frame, trying to calm her frantically beating heart.

Feeling the start of panic beginning to creep up her spine, she takes a deep breath and puts one foot on the stairs and goes up, her mouth dropping when she stands face to face with the infamous organ. Stepping closer, she runs her finger over the now yellowed keys. Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, she pulls out her phone to take a picture of them, still bearing witness to Mrs. Lockwood's murder after all these many years.

"This will make a great story," she says to no one. Hearing another creak, she looks out the dirty window admiring the beauty of the full moon for a few seconds before the storm clouds fly over and obscure it.

When she finishes, she's about to drop her phone back in her purse when a jagged bolt of lightning streaks across the night sky, illuminating a face that suddenly appears on the other side of the glass. At the same time the organ magically starts playing, the keys moving methodically as if a ghost's fingers are running over them, creating a petrifying tune that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end yet again.

Screaming, she stumbles backwards and lands on her ass. Her taser skitters across the floor and as she scampers out of there as fast as her legs will carry her when a sound similar to flapping wings pierces the air.

Her flashlight is still on the floor, its beam lighting the way. She'll have to step back into the organ loft where the image had loomed. Her pulse is pounding in her ears and her breath comes in gulps, "Calm down, Elena, there has to be a perfectly logical explanation."

Feeling somewhat better, she inches her way back over the threshold, grabs her flashlight and shines it around the floor, searching for her taser but it's inexplicably gone. She lifts the bottom of the dust covers and looks under everything, but comes up empty-handed. A stab of fear streaks down her spine. Is someone else in the house?

Pulling herself together, Elena leaves the loft and runs down the stairs, kicking her taser with her foot when she reaches the third floor landing. Wasting no time, she picks it up and holds it out with her flashlight. Slowly turning in a circle, she runs the light around the whole room finding nothing but the sheet draped furniture that she saw earlier. Raising the light beam to the wall, her throat constricts when she locks eyes on a portrait of Katherine Lockwood with a pair of garden shears sticking in her neck and blood pouring from the wound.

Too tongue- tied to scream, she runs down the stairs, getting about halfway when she feels it. A soft thump, coming from just below where she's standing. Her blood runs cold when the dark shape materializes behind her, she bolts back up them as fast as she can. The light beam starts to flicker and by the time she gets to the top, it dies completely. "Just perfect," she mumbles with a shaky voice.

A captain's window at the end of the hall allows a sliver moonlight to fall onto the walls and floor. Clouds scudding across the night sky dim what little light there as it filters in through the naked tree branches.

Looking around, she moves into the darkness to let her eyes adjust. Rather than a clear view, she gets the impression of a long hall with doors on either side. Elena slowly puts one foot in front of the other but the more steps she takes, the longer the hall seems to be, it's almost as if she's running in place. The sour taste of fear fills her mouth and her heart slams in her chest. Panic is poking at the edges and she inherently knows that if she gives in to it, she'll never get out of here.

Elena takes several deep breaths to try to calm her thundering heart. With her arms outstretched and her pulse still pounding in her ears, she blindly continues down the seemingly endless hallway.

"Only a few more steps," she tells herself. She almost cries when she finds a big hole in the floor, one too large for her to navigate around. A chill runs through her already cold body, raising all of her short hairs when goosebumps erupt. The only way off this floor is to retrace her steps. Elena brushes the hair off her face and glances at the window. In the subdued light, she notices her reflection in the glass and that's not all.

A dark shape rises up behind her. She spins around and just that quickly, something grabs at her wrist. With a loud scream, she pulls free and bolts back down the pitch black hallway. Her foot catches on something and she stumbles, falling to her hands and knees. She tries to crawl away but cold fingers wrap around an ankle and tug. Twisting onto her back, she uses her other leg and kicks as hard as she can. She knows she got in a good strike when an "oomph" sounds at the same time her ankle is released.

Elena scrambles up the stairs and onto the third floor landing. She forces herself to crouch down in the shadows and listen to see if it's following her, but the only sounds are rasps of breath as they escape her lungs. Knowing she has to get back to her car, she gets up and moves hand over hand along the hallway, trying doors and stopping every few moments to listen for any sounds. Nothing. It's the kind of silence that falls right before someone gets knifed in the back. It sends a shiver down her spine and she feels the blood chill in her veins. Shaking it off, she knows she's running out of options and that she is not alone in this macabre old estate.

"Please," she pleads to no one and runs to the last door, releasing a heavy sigh when it opens. Stumbling forward, she somehow manages to right herself before falling flat on her face. Elena stills, knowing someone or something is behind her. Turning slowly toward the door, she can barely make out the outline of a man or...

Elena is rooted to the spot, staring at him. She has no saliva to swallow and bites down on her lower lip. He takes a step forward, and she forces herself to take one back. Her breath is coming in little spurts and her heart racing like a tremendous machine. He takes another ... so does she. Like fencing oponents, they both move in response to the other. After a long second, he's in front of her. She tries to back away but he's too quick. Taking her in his arms, he carries her for a short way then drops her onto a mattress and pins her down.

Elena screams when he drags open mouth kisses along the side of her neck while tugging on her shirt at the same time. She thrashes wildly against him, but with practiced ease he straddles her, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. With his other one he deftly strips off what remains of her top and bra. Fighting like a wildcat, Elena tries to buck him off, but it only excites him more and he quickly works to get rid of her jeans.

He stills and the moonlight catches his eyes. The depth of blue is so intense, she can almost hear the waves falling against the shore and see the foam flying into the air.

Crossing his arms, he pulls his sweater over his head and tosses it haphazardly over one shoulder. With a twinkle, he brings one of her hands up to his mouth, kissing the base of her thumb. He then places her hand first on his belly and then lower to stroke his prominent bulge. His eyes drift closed and he groans at how good it feels. Raising his head, he looks at her with lust filled eyes and Elena shivers under the intensity of his stare. With a low growl he drops his mouth to hers, plunges his tongue in, and steals her breath away.

Releasing her wrists, his hands feverishly fondle her breasts. Elena makes little noises as the heat in her belly shoots through her body like a lightening bolt. He tears his mouth from hers, trails wet kisses down her jaw and dips his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat then goes lower to capture her nipple. His hot mouth on her cold flesh makes her gasp and arch her back, thrusting more of her breast into his mouth. Threading her fingers into his shock of black hair, she holds him close while writhing beneath him. He sucks harder and she whimpers, rocking her hips against him. Groaning, he drags his mouth to her other breast and tortures her until she's almost in rapture.

"Oh, please." Her head thrashes back and forth.

He raises up, peels off his pants then kisses her fiercely. When they part, he slithers down her exquisite body, scrapes her hip bone with his teeth and nuzzles her through her panties. Grasping the lacy material, he pulls them off when she raises her hips.

Lowering his weight, he settles between her legs and locks eyes with hers a millisecond before he plunges all the way in with one swift thrust. Elena throws her head back and gasps at the deliciousness of it, curling her fingers into his shoulders. He doesn't move right away, holding still to let her body adjust. Moving slowly at first, he pulls almost all the way out and attempts to inch back in. But control is a fragile thing, his breaks almost immediately and then he's driving into her with singular purpose.

Elena meets every stroke with equal fervor, drawing up her feet and planting them flat on the mattress to change the angle and take him deeper. His hands fist in her hair, her nails claw his back, urging him to move harder and faster. Heat begins to curl in her tummy, streaking through her veins like an inferno consuming everything in its path. Trembling with need, she wraps her legs around him and pulls him in even deeper.

When he slips a hand between them to stroke her, she comes - screaming his name as if in reverence. She convulses almost painfully around him, clenching him like a velvet lined vise grip, triggering his own climax. He raises up and thrusts into her one last time. Throwing his head back, he echoes her release with a roar, her body taking everything he has to give.

Slack limbed and panting, he collapses onto her. They lay, trembling with the aftershocks, hearts racing and gasping for breath. After a minute or two he moves to pull out of her but she holds tight and whispers, "Stay."

Nodding, he gathers her into his arms, brushes her damp hair from her sweaty forehead and peppers her face with kisses. "I love you," he breathes.

They lay side by side, her head resting on his arm. She has her leg thrown over his hip and he's still buried inside her. Running her hand over his beautiful chest and up his throat to cradle his cheek. "I missed you, Damon."

He kisses her fingertips. "I missed you too. I couldn't wait any longer, I hate being away from you."

"If this," she waves her hand around, "is what happens with us only being apart for a few days - we need to do it more often."

"I don't think so," he laughs, shaking his head no.

"I have a bone to pick with you though, why did you need to scare the bejesus out of me?"

"It's Halloween," he chuckles.

She turns her head to look in his eyes. "Damon Salvatore, if you ever scare me like that again, you'll be singing like a soprano till you're old and gray. And just wait till I get my hands on Ric."

"You have to admit, I did a good job," he winks and presses a kiss to her hair.

"Fine, I'll concede that point," she admits begrudgingly.

"I bet with some money and hard work, this place could shine again," he muses, his eyes taking in the room.

"You do realize there was a certified sighting of the Jersey Devil here?"

"You don't really believe that nonsense do you?" he arches an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, I do," she nuzzles her face against his chest and adds, "I can't believe you staged this whole thing. How did you get the organ to play by itself?"

"The organ? I didn't do anything with it," he shoots her a confused look.

"Stop fooling around, I know you rigged it to play somehow, and what about the bloody picture of Mrs. Lockwood?" she scoffs, circling his nipple with her fingertip.

"Elena, you were pretty spooked, are you sure you didn't imagine those things?"

Just as she opens her mouth, the house echoes with the sound of organ music. The notes are sinister, its dark timbre reaching a crescendo before repeating itself. Fear replaces the blue in Damon's eyes. He jumps out of bed, tosses his tee shirt at her and slips into his pants.

"Damon? she slips the garment over her head and gets out of bed.

"Let's. Get. Out. Of. Here." Damon grabs her wrist and the two of them run as fast as they could out of the room, down the hall, and back out the front door, their hearts pounding and legs carrying them faster than ever before. The organ music is so loud and bone chilling that they can hear it outside. Jumping in her car, Elena tosses him the keys, he somehow manages to catch them but with his hands shaking violently, he struggles to stick the right one in the ignition.

"Hurry, Damon, hurry!" Elena watches him while her leg bounces nervously against the floor. Finally he manages to get the key in and the car roars to life. He throws it into gear and floors the gas pedal, hitting is so hard that the tires squeal when he careens onto the highway.

While traveling on Route 9 back to the city, Damon's forced to slam his foot on the brake when - a creature emerges from a wooded area near a rest stop. He sits frozen, his mouth agape as he stares at the ten foot tall beast with a long head and short flat ears. The thing gallops out in front of them before spreading its wings and flying into the darkness.

Elena's eyes are huge and the hairs on the nape of her neck bristle. A gaggle of goose pimples laminates her frigid skin. She tries to speak but the inside of her mouth lacks any moisture and only a croaking, "Di...di.. you?" comes out.

When he can finally get a sound out, Damon's eyes snap to Elena's, "I need a drink." He makes a sharp u-turn, floors the gas pedal and speeds away leaving a thick cloud of exhaust behind them.

The End...

We hope you liked this one. It was so much fun to write. Very excited to hear your thoughts. This was inspired by an old Don Knotts movie - The Ghost and Mr. Chicken.

If you want to read more about the Jersey Devil see: www . ancient - origins . net.

We're going to take a short time out to prepare for DE holidays 2019.

Lastly I want to wish Salvatoreboys4ever an early happy birthday - it's tomorrow.

Have a safe and fun Halloween. We'll see you in a few weeks...