Georgina and Mark Godwin had relocated to Willows Hollow not more than a fortnight ago with their three children, two cats and a parrot, Chirp. They were enthused about living in Willows Hollow because for them, the area meant a change away from the fast-paced living of the city.

Mark Godwin had worked as a politician for many years, and had decided to retire early to be able to spend some quality time with his family. Georgina was only too happy to immerse herself into all this family time and togetherness. For her, life as it were, with her husband almost always at the office, meant a dreary evening in the study, awaiting Mark's return after attending to the house and the restless children she bore.

It was all a dream come true for her, a dream that unknowingly to her, would come to be a nightmare of epidemic proportions.

The Godwins had only met a few of the neighbours - Mrs. Robinson - an elderly woman with bone-straight silky white hair, lived right across the street from the Godwins. She often sat on her porch in a rocking chair just staring up at the top of the street, muttering some inaudible gibberish that for the kids was so very amusing. Mark and Georgina found her to be very odd, but kept it to themselves. They often wondered why she never spoke to them or even allowed them to come over once in a while. They excused her behaviour saying that it was probably as a result of her old age.

The Petersons lived just two doors down. They were somewhat talkative, a quality Georgina found so refreshing. She relished the company and the conversation wholeheartedly. Life was good she often mused.

Then there were the Malabvers - a middle-aged couple who, despite their outwardly friendly nature, bore a secret, which was obviously eating away at them. They would refrain from speaking of anything outside the present, being careful all the time to reprimand and remind each other with stares and glances, which were more noticeable than they'd have wished.

Shirley Malabver was a nervous full-breasted woman, who rubbed her hands compulsively, biting at her bottom lips whenever she got the chance to. Other times, she would cling onto her husbands arm, as if for dear life. The Malabvers visited the Godwins almost everyday, but always retired to their own home just before seven, just before it got too dark.

Argyle Street was a sprawling avenue, flanked with towering trees, mostly willows. The adjacent street, Madden Street, for many, stood as evidence of a time when laughter made the community what it was, where kids galloped like horses up and down the streets, where life resounded and resided. But then things changed. Not many voices can be heard anymore - no children playing, no dogs, no cats, no signs of life… at least not during the days anymore.

At the corner of Argyle Street sits a towering old house, Willow Manor. Its dark windows and fading curtains peer forebodingly back at an audience that does not exist. No one is quite sure what happened, but older folk speak in whispers of the day Willow Manor became a monster.

The Malabvers had five wonderful children, five beautiful children who had become the victims of Willow Manor, of the house at the end of the street. The house, many children, many wives, and many husbands had taken many other families. Those who had survived had been fortunate enough to resist the call of the house, the enchantment of the willows. If only the Godwins knew of the neighbourhood's past. If only they knew of the horrors that took place, of the secrets that were enveloped inside the house at the end of the street. If only they could hear what old Mrs. Robinson was muttering. "Stay away from Willow Manor! Stay away from the street! Beware the house doesn't get you! Beware the sound of scratching feet!"

Peter and Olivia Godwin were siblings who, for whatever reasons, refused to listen to the sayings of their parents. Unlike their younger brother Donte, they defied the warnings they received, and laughed at old Mrs. Robinson and Donte's stories.

Donte would complain often of hearing someone calling his name, Olivia's name and Peter's name, but was never able to distinguish the voice, which seemed to change from that of a small child, to that of older children, from a boy to the voice of a girl. The older siblings would laugh at him, calling him a baby, and chided him for spending too much time with old Mrs. Robinson.

One night however, Peter was awakened by a scratching at his window. He quickly sat up in bed, startled by the strange sound he heard in the dark. Slowly, he switched his bed lamp on, trying to figure out what could be making that noise. After a few minutes he dismissed the sound, smiling to himself at how silly he would seem if he were to mention what he thought he heard to Olivia and Donte. He had thought he heard whispers but he would not bring himself to believe any of it. In another room, Olivia was also awakened by voices and scraping noises at her window. Too scared to even shift an inch in her bed, she laid frozen with the covers all the way up to her chin. She knew deep down that the voices she heard were not from her brothers - a fact, which made her even more petrified.

Outside the window stood a host of children, all sizes and ages, pale-faced and thin, seeming to be in agonising pain, but lost in a trance-like state. The figures changed intermittently like shape-changers, calling at times in chorus, at times singly: "Olivia! Peter"! They would occasionally wander close to the end of the street wherein stood Willow Manor. Repeatedly they were told by their parents never to venture anywhere close to Argyle Street nor Madden Street, not for the reasons that old Mrs. Robinson had muttered, but because of the quietness and deserted nature of the street itself.