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Or here if you
are chicken

Evil, manipulative, feelings were more likely to possess one’s thoughts and senses, than safety and comfort in the interior of the former home of Lord Trentham.  Both Mary and Joseph could feel a presence in the room the minute they passed through the front door, but neither one could put a handle on it.  Nor did either make comment on their intuitive feelings.  There was no mysterious sound or vibration to confront them; no wispy, shifting air current to distract the newly arrived - hot or cold.  No flickering lights, nor unholy shadows, to concern the worried mind, but there was something that disturbed the tranquillity.  Something that rattled the mind, stirred the senses, and crawled across the skin regardless of whether it was exposed to the night air … or buried beneath a sea of clothing.  But there was naught that they could do to alleviate the feeling except to do their utmost to deny its existence to their own minds.

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