Nearly two hundred years ago a group of fifty-two men of the cloth went west into the Ohio wilderness. They chose a beautiful spot on top of a hill to build their monastery and to devote their lives to God. What they didn’t know was that they built their sandstone structure directly over the portal to Hell. And now, long dead, the demon monks are causing all kinds of havoc for the Morton family, the monastery’s current owners.
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“NO!” she shrieked. “Too late! Too late!” As Elaine turned to run back to the fire escape, fragments of light suddenly bounced back and forth in the trees; reflections from the cab’s headlights coming up the hill towards her. “Oh, oh,” she mumbled, unsure whether to run, yet too afraid to stay. At the chime of the last church bell, the monastery doors suddenly blew open. Elaine was grabbed from behind by an unknown number of invisible hands, and pulled backward through the door before she could scream.