Published by Amazon Digital Services on December 9, 2016
Genres: Dark Fiction, Fiction, Horror, Paranormal, Psychological Horror, Supernatural, Suspense
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There's something in the house on Kenwood Drive, and it only comes out at night...
College students Eric and Lydia are looking for a novel way to spend Halloween. They decide to put together a documentary about the supernatural and take a camcorder into the long-abandoned house on Kenwood Drive. It's said that a vengeful spirit lives there, and Lydia thinks it the perfect location.
Eric, though, has his reservations. Having grown up in the area, he's familiar with the stories of the spirit they call the "Upside-Down Man", and as their trip to the house draws near, his fear begins to mount. According to the rumors, once you go into the house, you bring the Upside-Down Man out with you. And in three days' time, you disappear.
When the two of them begin to see and experience strange things, they launch into a frenzied search for truth, attempting to separate the myth of Kenwood House from the reality. But it turns out that untangling the threads of local legend is more difficult than it appears.
Especially when you've only got three days.
WHISPERING CORRIDORS: A Ghost Story, by Ambrose Ibsen, is a book that honestly took me by surprise–in a good way! The synopsis grabbed my attention immediately: a supernatural tale about a haunted house. The legend states that once you go in, you bring “something” out with you–and disappear three days later.
“. . . There’s something in the house on Kenwood Drive, and it only comes out at night . . .”
College student, Lydia, is determined to make a documentary in an attempt to find proof of an existence beyond death. She elicits the help of her friend, Craig, a fellow student that actually grew up in the town of Moorlake, Ohio. There is one house he knows of that is the local “haunted house”, although oddly enough, he seems to have forgotten all but the vaguest of details about it until Lydia brings it up . . .
Before their planned expedition on Halloween night, the two briefly go around to get some “local commentary” on their chosen location. While many, like Eric himself, are filled with a sudden, inexplicable dread at the thought of the place, there are a few . . . questionable . . . people that offer up their opinions.
“. . . That house on Kenwood wasn’t ever meant to be lived in. It ain’t friendly . . . “
” . . . The old house on Kenwood Drive? Stay the f— away from it . . . “
In this novel, the house is almost a character, itself. No matter how much of the mystique surrounding it is given, the exact cause remains somewhat of an enigma–even at the end. In my opinion, Ibsen’s decision on this matter was a stroke of genius. By giving the reader enough information for them to get that same sense of fear and disquiet that our main characters get, keeps us in suspended suspense–allowing us to go along this perilous journey WITH them.
“. . . there are places in this world where people aren’t meant to go. Places where certain things lay low. Dangerous and awful things . . . you’re better off never encountering.”
Eric is something of a skeptic, and Lydia’s sudden insistence on exploring this particular house has him mentally at odds with himself. Despite her very petite stature, there is simply nothing Eric can do or say to dissuade her. Even when his own “forgotten memories” and new warnings about the house begin to surface, Lydia remains resolute–obstinately determined to record the interior of the infamous house on Halloween night.
“. . . Facing your fears can be a dangerous thing . . . there’s always the chance . . . that your very worst fears could match the reality.”
In this book, you won’t find bucketfuls of gore and viscera, but the atmosphere, along with the half-murmurred rumors and connections about the house, bring out more of an inner horror than I was expecting. It’s simply amazing how effectively a good writer can invoke a heightened sense of terror in his or her readers with mental and atmospheric tension mounting, without resorting to physical and carnal displays. Ibsen uses his words to lure us in–starting with a nonchalant comment, and finishing with a single statement that sends genuine shivers throughout our bodies and minds.
“. . . aren’t so different from the stories surrounding the old, abandoned houses where you live. Every town has them, and Moorlake, Ohio is no exception. But I was wrong. I went inside, and I shouldn’t have . . .”
A patch of mold on a wall worms its way into your brain and begins to take on a more sinister, deadly quality. The term Upside-Down Man , and the circumstances that led to this moniker will be ruthlessly researched in a frenzied attempt to ward off that which may already be set in stone.
“. . . In cautionary legends of this kind, there isn’t any salvation to be found from the threat . . . If the Upside-Down Man could be dissuaded from claiming his victims in some way, then the sense of risk, of real danger, wouldn’t be present . . .”
It’s been a while since a novel has literally scared me into keeping the lights on at night, but WHISPERING CORRIDORS: A Ghost Story, has accomplished just that.
“It takes three days, and your time is up.”