For the 13 days leading up to Halloween, I am trying an experiment by rewriting the same story in 13 different styles, reflecting the various horror subgenres as part of my Thirteen For Halloween series. You can find the original version HERE. So, feel free to come back and weigh in with your opinion of which style worked the best!
Letter 1: From Irma, Anaïs’ Former Roommate
September 1
Dearest Jack,
My heart is heavy as I pen this letter to you. The events that have unfolded in our quiet town have left me in a state of shock and sorrow. It is with a trembling hand that I recount the unimaginable transformation that has befallen our dear friend, Anaïs.
Anaïs, a woman with a spirit as vibrant as the dappled sunlight that once danced across our shared cottage. Her laughter used to fill our home, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity. She was the embodiment of life’s pleasures, always seeking adventure and daring to embrace the unknown.
But now, my friend, she lies still on our old, fraying sofa, a mere shell of her former self. Her eyes, once so bright and full of mirth, have lost their luster, and her laughter has been replaced by an eerie silence that hangs over our cottage like a shroud.
The air within these walls seems to whisper dark secrets, the shadows playing a haunting ballet on our cracked walls. I can hardly believe that only yesterday, we laughed and reminisced about our college escapades. How could this have happened? What cruel twist of fate has robbed us of the Anaïs we once knew and adored?
Yours in shock and sorrow,
Irma
Letter 2: Reply from Jack, Anaïs’ Neighbor
September 2
Dearest Irma,
Your letter has shaken me to the core, for I saw Anaïs but a week ago, and her demeanor was as cheerful and vibrant as ever. She spoke of the old tales her grandmother used to weave—legends of curses and vengeful spirits that echoed through our town’s history. I had always regarded those stories as mere fiction, the product of imaginative minds seeking to entertain.
Yet, my friend, a chill settled upon me last night as I lay in my bed, and an eerie image of Anaïs haunted my dreams. She stood at the edge of a dark abyss, her eyes devoid of light, whispering words in a language unknown to me. Was it a mere coincidence, or was it an ominous message from the ether?
The nights have grown colder, and I’ve been beset by vivid dreams that leave me restless. The local library, where I sought answers among dusty tomes of folklore, offered little solace. Strangely, the occult section, which had provided insights into our town’s enigmatic past, had vanished when I returned for further research.
Have you ever felt that you are being warned away from something as if the universe conspires to deter you from a hidden truth? I cannot shake this nagging feeling that we stand on the precipice of discovery, something profound yet profoundly dangerous. I pray that it is merely the fanciful workings of my mind.
Please, my dear friend, write back soon. Your letters have always been a beacon of warmth and cheer in these trying times.
Yours in uncertainty,
Jack
Letter 3: From The Amazing Clara, A Medium
September 4
Dearest Sister,
The events you have described weigh heavily on my soul, for I too have experienced an unsettling encounter with the ethereal. An overpowering spirit intruded upon my evening meditation, a sensation I have never before felt in my years of communing with the otherworldly.
Through the veil of my visions, I saw Anaïs, surrounded by ancient symbols etched in luminescent hues. She stood amidst a circle of chanting figures, their voices merging into an eerie chorus that resonated through the very core of my being. The symbols, once innocent and familiar, had taken on an ominous aura.
Could it be that the tales Anaïs so often recounted have deeper roots in our town’s history than we dared to imagine? It is a path fraught with peril that we tread, my sister, and I implore you to exercise caution as you navigate these uncharted waters.
In spiritual concern,
Clara
Letter 4: From Officer Daniels, Night Patrol
September 6
Report for the Night of September 5:
I write to you, dear colleagues, with an unsettling report of events that transpired during my night patrol. A distress call led me to investigate a disturbance at an old warehouse on the outskirts of town.
Inside, the walls bore cryptic symbols, mirroring those described by Clara. As I navigated the labyrinthine corridors, a profound unease settled upon me, and I was acutely aware of a presence that lingered, lurking in the shadows.
Local residents had reported a figure, eerily resembling Anaïs, wandering the streets at night. When I arrived at the scene, my radio communication inexplicably ceased, enveloping me in a disconcerting silence. It was as though the very air had grown dense with foreboding.
I remained vigilant, but the unsettling feeling persisted, a ghostly echo of some unknown terror that lurked just beyond the veil of reality.
Stay vigilant,
Officer Daniels
Letter 5: From Sarah Postlethwaite, a Local Reporter
September 7
My Dearest Irma,
The town is awash with rumors, whispers of an ancient curse reawakening, and its tendrils reaching into the heart of our community. I find myself haunted by the spectral figure of Anaïs, her form flickering like a candle in the wind, torn between the realms of the living and the ethereal.
The nightmares have become more frequent, each one echoing the same haunting message—an ominous prophecy that chills me to the bone. We, the residents of this seemingly tranquil town, are ensnared in a web spun by forces beyond our comprehension.
I have embarked on an investigation, hoping to unravel the truth that lies shrouded in the mists of time. Anaïs, once a beacon of life and laughter, has become a vessel for something ancient and malevolent. I fear that her fate is intertwined with ours, and the threads of destiny have woven a tapestry of darkness that threatens to consume us all.
Hoping for answers,
Sarah Postlethwaite
Letter 6: From Dr. Williams, Psychiatrist
September 8
To the Esteemed Community,
In my years of practicing psychiatry, I have encountered the complexities of the human mind, delving into its labyrinthine depths to uncover the root of afflictions that beset the soul. However, the case of Anaïs Grey has plunged me into a realm beyond the realms of scientific explanation.
Several patients, including myself, have reported disturbing dreams featuring Anaïs, her form twisted into a grotesque semblance of her former self. She is not merely a vision; she is a portent, a forewarning of an impending calamity that looms over our town like a storm on the horizon.
I have delved into my personal library, unearthing a manuscript from a bygone era that speaks of a curse, a malevolent force that slumbers beneath the earth. It awakens once in a century, seeking a vessel through which to exact its vengeance upon the living. Anaïs, dear residents, has become the conduit for this ancient evil.
In grave concern,
Dr. Williams
Letter 7: From Lyle Langstrom, an Old Historian
September 9
Dear Fellow Residents,
The time has come for us to confront the shadows that encroach upon our town, for the legends we dismissed as mere folklore have been irrevocably woven into the fabric of our reality. Anaïs Grey, once a spirited soul, has become a beacon for an ancient curse that has plagued our town for generations.
I have unearthed texts that speak of a ritual—a sacred ceremony that can counteract the malevolence that festers beneath our feet. We must unite, setting aside skepticism and embracing the wisdom of our ancestors. The symbols etched upon the walls, the chanting figures, and the spectral visions—these are not mere flights of fancy but glimpses into a reality we can no longer ignore.
With unwavering determination,
Lyle Langstrom
Letter 8: Final Notice, Community Bulletin Board
September 10
ATTENTION:
The hour is nigh. The ancient curse that has gripped our town shall be confronted tonight, under the pale light of the waxing crescent. We, the united denizens of this town, will gather at the old town square to perform the ritual that has been passed down through generations.
Anaïs Grey, our dear friend, lies at the epicenter of this malevolence. She is both victim and harbinger, a vessel for the darkness that seeks to consume us all. It is with unity and resolve that we shall face this ancient evil, armed with the knowledge of our forebears and the strength of our collective spirit.
United we stand,
Community Council
Letter 9: From Irma, Anaïs’s Former Roommate
September 11
Dear Journal,
The night was heavy with anticipation, the air thick with trepidation as the townsfolk gathered at the old town square. Under the muted glow of the waxing crescent, Anaïs stood at the heart of the circle, her eyes haunted yet resolute. The symbols etched upon the ground seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, casting eerie shadows upon the faces of those assembled.
The ritual commenced, each chant resonating through the night like a mournful dirge. The air crackled with an ethereal force as the townsfolk poured their collective will into the ceremony. Anaïs, once a vessel of malevolence, now stood as a beacon of hope, her form bathed in the soft glow of the ritual’s incantations.
As the night wore on, the chanting reached a crescendo, and a brilliant, blinding light engulfed the square. Anaïs’s cries echoed through the night, mingling with the voices of the townsfolk, a cacophony of anguish and determination.
And then, in an instant, silence fell upon the square. The light dissipated, leaving behind a profound stillness that hung in the air like a whispered promise. Anaïs, her eyes no longer haunted, stood before us, her form radiant in the pale moonlight.
The ancient curse that had gripped our town for generations had been vanquished. Anaïs, our dear friend, had become the catalyst for our salvation. The shadows that had encroached upon our lives were banished, and in their place, a sense of peace settled upon our town.
As I write these words, dear Journal, I am filled with a profound sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the strength of our community, for the wisdom of our ancestors, and for the resilience of the human spirit. The echoes of our struggle against the darkness shall forever linger in the air, a reminder of the power that lies within us to confront even the most malevolent of forces.
My heart is brimming with hope.


