My name is Reginald O'Dell. I work a normal job at The Regency First National Trust. I am a records clerk. I file documents. At night I am something else. While most people dream, I walk in the spirit world. I am a spirit walker. Should I tell you about the children, how they come to me and what has happened? I shall.

   They come to me in their green Incredible Hulk pajamas. They come to me in their long yellow night shirts. They come, and I lead them down strange paths. In the moonlight, we go to the wonderful places that only I can find. Through the sweet hollows and the long leafy trails, we go floating and singing.

   That was before something happened. Every year there is a danger of fears. Fears of the children, fears of mine, these fears mount until they threaten to block all the lovely places. It happened this year. This year the fears grew strong; like a landslide they covered the wilderness. There was nothing left to do but seek out new destinations.

   We came upon the old house. It was an eerie place which sat at an odd angle to the path. Large dead trees grew all around it, roots and vines covered the underbrush.

   "Is this a place of bad spirits?" the children asked me.

   "I do not know." I told them truthfully.

   I lead them away from that odd place, and we came to an open field which was quiet and peaceful.

   I do not know why the children follow me on my nocturnal journeys or if all children walk in dreams. I do not know them in the waking world, for I have no child in my life, but I have always felt responsible for them, taken pains to lead them down safe paths. Most children are very good but some are very bad.

   "Let's go to the bad place." James whispered to John. I could not stop them for their will was quite their own.

   They went back to the old house, stood defiantly before it's rotten wooden structure.

   James wrote a note on a rock, scrawled it with chalk. "We are not afraid." the note said. He heaved it through an ancient window. There came a noise from deep within the old house. It was a high scratching sound, like nails on a chalk board.

   "What is going on?" said the murderer who lived inside the old house. He came out on the porch making the high scratching noise down in his throat.

   "I will dig you a grave." he said to the two bad children.

   He produced a shovel and began to dig in the yard.

   James and Johnny ran. But they could not outrun the beastly one. He caught them and held them both up by their nightshirts.

   "Why did you invade my privacy, why did you trespass and provoke me?" the murderer asked. He continued making the scratching noises down deep in his throat. He took the two children into his house and threw them in the cellar.

   "What will he do with us?" John asked James.

   "I don't know," James said, "but he's a nightmare and he won't let us leave now that we've discovered him."

   Above the cellar, the murderer was joined by fellow monsters. "I've been digging graves all day." he said to the monsters. "Now I have challengers, they have come to my house to see if I can make them die."

   The monsters shook their heads and laughed.

   I had to go and take the kids from the cellar. I had to kill the murderer and the monsters.

   "Please don't challenge the bad places." I asked of the two boys.

   But every night we go past a dozen places where a child could get snagged by fears. What I do at night is hard.