<strong>Caleb Hatcher -- We're in the Deep End Now, Kids</strong><br/><br/>There was of course more information, but before Hatcher could deliver it he was cut off by yet another arrival. He stifled a groan as best he could as a woman with an apparent vinyl fetish approached the table; Lisa Morgan, reality television ghoul. He could have sworn he told his staff to exclude her from this meeting, as he had little need of celebrity hounds and shutterbugs on a job like this. But here she was, and from the look in her eye it was clear she wasn't going to go away without a fight. Hatcher's shoulders slumped a little, and motioned to one of the servers for some extra chairs. If she insisted on joining the group, he may as well let her. Besides, if whatever was in the manor attacked them, maybe it would take her and give the others a chance to escape.<br/><br/>A spike of shame burned through his center as soon as he had the thought, and Hatcher shook it away, refusing to consider such horrible notions. As he rose from the table to welcome Ms. Morgan, he spotted Mr. Huxley entering the restaurant, escorted by hotel staff. Hatcher was about to offer the young man a handshake when he abruptly introduced himself to...Mr. Wade. Hatcher rolled his eyes in annoyance as the two men spoke, then simply gave an affirming nod to Huxley as Wade pointed him back in the right direction.<br/><br/>After welcoming the two newcomers, Hatcher turned back to McDermott, who was in the middle of a surprisingly vicious rant concerning his supposed incompetence. Before he could offer a rebuttal, the Irishman stormed off back to the bar, swearing a bluestreak behind him as he left. He looked around at the others and sat back, feeling somewhat defeated.<br/><br/>"What can I say? He's not wrong," Hatcher sighed. "Although I swear to you all, turning this thing into some sort of media circus or television program is the furthest thing from my intentions. I don't know what Ms. Morgan's plans are, but if she intends to join you...I don't know. Perhaps a video record of the events wouldn't be such a bad idea, at least." The man slouched back in his seat, feeling much older than his 36 years. It was a sensation he'd become depressingly familiar with in the last few months, ever since taking ownership of the Harrowgate property and all its ills.<br/><br/>Hatcher leaned forward and slammed his fist down onto the table, staring into the smooth white tablecloth. "I just want this over with, dammit! There's been enough death, enough loss connected with that infernal house. I don't know what else to do. If there was any way, if I only knew how, I would handle this myself. But I don't. I just don't know what to do. I know I don't have what it takes, and so I've reached out to you. Each of you," he said, the glimmer of a tear building in one eye. "I just know something has to be done. It can't be allowed to go on like this anymore." Images of his missing employees filled his thoughts, along with the anguish and the pain that their families were surely suffering.<br/><br/>Hatcher looked up again and saw his last guest arrive, the young miss Alice Bennet. His heart fell a little lower, if that were possible; she looked almost as young as Ms. McGlone, who had quietly excused herself earlier and not returned. There was a look in Ms. Bennet's eyes, however, that McGlone had not had, a steely resolve that bespoke possession of extensive -- and probably horrific -- experience. Rather than standing again, Hatcher simply raised a hand and waved the girl over; Wade was right. If anyone else showed up, he'd have to move this meeting to the hotel's auditorium.<br/><br/>"Miss Bennet, over here," he said loud enough to catch her attention. As she joined the table, Hatcher started pawing through the folders in front of him once again. After finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a particularly thick stack of files and began passing them around to those present, holding one back for the indisposed McDermott.<br/><br/>"Well, now that everyone is here that should be, you may as well each have a look at this. These are copies* of the report my personal investigator, Miss Pike, compiled for this meeting. Included is all the information we have obtained since the investigation first began, or a summary of it at least. You're all welcome to look them over tonight, and then I'd suggest you all get a night's rest. The bus is scheduled to pick us up tomorrow morning at 10 AM; I'll be joining you on the trip, but I will not be accompanying you inside. And now, I know I promised everyone a meal, but I confess I've lost my appetite for the night. If anyone is hungry, please feel free to enjoy whatever you like either here or from room service, on my tab. If you'll excuse me, I'll meet you all in the lobby in the morning. If anyone decides not to go...well, I can't say I won't understand."<br/><br/>Hatcher stood again after passing out the files, and gave a nod. "Thank you all for your time, ladies and gentlemen. A pleasant evening to you all," he said, before he turned and left the restaurant.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_u">**The Next Morning**</span><br/><br/>Hatcher and those who resolved to stay met in the lobby at 9:45 AM. "I'm glad to see you're still here. It's about a two-hour ride to Cypress Falls from Memphis; we should get there a little past noon. I've taken the liberty of supplying some extra provisions I thought might prove useful; there are enough two-way radios for everyone, along with fresh batteries, and a couple of small stocked first-aid kits. Sleeping bags and a few foil-sealed MREs are also available, in case this should turn into an overnight job. Like I said last night, I'll be going with you, but I won't be going inside. I'll wait on the bus with the driver just inside the front gate, in case anyone decides they aren't up to the job any longer and wants to leave. I can assure you, I certainly won't think any less of you for it."<br/><br/>The group boarded the bus and the next two hours passed in relative quiet, Hatcher's guests chatting quietly with each other. Their host simply sat silently and stared out the window, appreciating the beauty of Tennessee in early spring. The time seemed to fly by almost as quickly as the trees and fields that whipped past the bus, and at approximately 12:20 PM the team arrived at the southern edge of the Harrowgate Estate. Hatcher stepped off the bus, and as he unlatched the heavy wrought-iron gate he felt a bone-chilling shiver cross through him at the sight of the manor ahead. At the exact moment his fingers touched the bolt on the gate, a roaring clap of thunder erupted overhead, and the clear blue skies that had graced their morning evaporated under the force of an onrushing storm. Hatcher's stare moved from the quick-forming thunderheads above to the house at the end of the drive, and he said a silent prayer.<br/><br/><em>'Heavenly Father...I don't know if you can hear me here, in this place. I don't know if you're watching, or if you even care what happens here. But I have to believe that you can hear me, and that you can help these people to face whatever is in that house. Keep them safe, God. Please, keep them safe. Because if they can't stop the evil in that house...it might come for You next. Amen.'</em><br/><br/>The bus rolled on through and pulled up a few meters from the front door. Hatcher caught up to them and climbed back aboard. He walked to the back of the bus and hauled up a large crate from the rear-most seat, and began handing out the supplies he'd mentioned back at the hotel, then addressed the group one more time. "Alright, people. We're here. If anyone wants to turn back, now's the time. Otherwise...good luck, and godspeed."<br/><br/>(http://www.deviantart.com/download/76375582/Haunted_Mansion_Painting_by_yensidtlaw1969.jpg)<br/>____________________________________________<br/><br/>*Will PM this information to each player