Chapter 1

I grew up close with my father. He played such a huge part in my childhood every summer I’d travel from Boston to Shadow Falls to spend time with him, and those were some of the best days of my life.

We’d spend hours fishing on the lake, hunting out by Redwood Forest, and talking about life. He taught me everything I needed to know about being a man. Looking back now, I realize those summers were never really about fishing or hunting , they were about being with my dad.

Then, just a few days before my thirteenth birthday, he passed away and It broke my heart.

I was never the same after hearing the news. It felt like my entire world had been turned upside down. After that, I didn’t care much for fishing or hunting anymore those things reminded me too much of him.

I still remember my father’s funeral though as strange as it sounds, it was beautiful. Dozens of white roses surrounded a snow white casket. Family members quietly cried while soft hymns echoed through out the chapel when I finally looked at my father one last time, I found comfort in the fact that he looked peaceful.

His death shocked everyone, I was told that the coroner ruled it a heart attack but there was one detail that never made sense. My father’s body had been found inside Mount View Cemetery.

For years, one question stayed in the back of my mind. “Why the hell was my dad in a cemetary to begin with?”

Nobody seemed to have an answer.

Nobody…Except my Grandpa Joe.

Grandpa Joe was an odd man. He was missing both of his ears, making him completely deaf. His back was hunched over due to old age and his bald, wrinkled head looked like it had been crumpled up and never smoothed back out.

Growing up, both my mother and father always kept me away from him. Whenever I’d ask why, my mother would simply say,

“Grandpa Joe is sick. Pay him no mind.

Grandpa Joe was what most people would call a conspiracy theorist or as he liked to describe himself…

“A believer.”

He spent his days talking about the end times, UFOs, government cover ups, and all kinds of strange things but more than anything else, he talked about how cursed Shadow Falls truly was.

He knew every urban legend the town had ever whispered about and he believed every single one.

There was one legend, though, that he spoke about more than all the others.

Coffin Jack.

The moment my father’s casket was lowered into the ground, Grandpa Joe suddenly pointed toward the grave and began shouting.

“COFFIN JACK GOT HIM!”

Everyone turned to look.

“He heard those damn bells!” Grandpa Joe screamed. “I TOLD HIM NOT TO LISTEN!”

Every few moments my aunt and uncle would try to calm him down, waving their hands for him to stop before gently pulling him away from the crowd.

After the funeral, I asked my Uncle George (my father’s younger brother) about Coffin Jack and why Grandpa Joe kept talking about him.

He sighed before answering.

“He’s an old Shadow Falls legend.”

“What kind of legend?” I replied.

“They say every thirty years, around midnight, a man called Coffin Jack walks the streets carrying an old bell.”

“The Bell of the Buried…they call it.”

“If anyone hears it…” He paused for a moment. “They fall into some kind of trance they start walking without even realizing it until they reach Mount View Cemetery.”

“And, what happens next?” I asked.

He looked toward my father’s grave.

“They say Coffin Jack buries them alive.”

Even at thirteen years old, I knew it was just another ghost story adults used to scare kids. There was no way something like that had happened to my father his body had been found so I never gave it another thought.

Until now..

I’m writing this story at exactly twelve o’clock in the morning. My hands are trembling so badly I can barely type ,thirty years have passed since my father’s funeral.

I’m forty three years old now. Six months ago, I moved to Shadow Falls.

I told everyone it was because I wanted to feel closer to my father. I wanted to walk the same streets we walked together. Fish the same lakes. Visit the same places that made up my happiest memories.

Now I know…that was the worst decision I’ve ever made.

To anyone reading this… I BEG OF YOU!

DO NOT COME TO SHADOW FALLS!!

My grandfather wasn’t crazy and with what little time I have left before my consciousness slips away…

There’s only one thing left for me to say.

Beware…The Bell of the Buried.

…

Because I can hear it now.

May God have mercy upon my soul.