The fresh snow nestled the Earth like a warm blanket during a thunderstorm. Specks of frozen water clung to the hibernating trees making them shimmer. Crystal-like icicles hung from the homes. The roads were bare as human and animal alike stayed in the warmth and safety of home.

The Dogcar hovered over the pristine powder leaving a small dent like a snake winding through the snow. The houses became sparser as the hovering purple and white Porsche 911 moved closer to its destination. The Dogcar's tail, similar to a dog's tail, was curled up along the back end of the vehicle. The teeth-like grill seemed ready to chomp the snow while the eye-like headlights looked to be scanning the area.

A moment later, the Dogcar came to rest at a gate. The vehicle landed on its wheels and powered down. The gull-wing doors opened with a hissss as Danny and I exited. Our feet crunched in the snow. Danny's brightly colored clothing rivaled the brightness of the snow. It might have been my imagination, but it looked like the light blue and neon green of Danny's winter wear—which matched his regular shirt—and his bright purple jeans reflected more light than the white snow. His worn out red baseball cap peeked through his hood.

A snowy owl fluttered over our heads then alighted on the cobblestone frame of the gate. It turned its head towards us. "Who?" it hooted.

"Joe Rover and Danny Smith," I joked.

The owl ruffled its feathers. "Enter," it said. The gates opened with a slow creeeeek. Danny and I slowly glanced at each other.

"Nice touch," I said, quoting one of the few cats I like—a Monday hating orange one.

I leaned back inside the Dogcar long enough to press a button on the dashboard. The vehicle shrank down to the size of a toy car. I slipped it into my pocket; Danny and I crossed the threshold.

The manor looked well maintained. The windows were clear; I could see the house still had electricity; and the trees appeared taken care of. The porch stairs barely moaned as we approached the door; they also seemed firm. There was no mold or other sign of decay. I did notice a couple spider webs. The doorknocker looked recently polished.

When I was contacted by Tim and Nick Gloom, I was expecting something more...spooky. The Gloom brothers, or the Brothers Gloom as they are known as on MyVideo, run a reaction channel. Sometimes they react to videos; other times they react to events or places. This time they were reacting to Woodwash Manor. It was supposedly haunted or something. The Gloom brothers planned to spend some time here; react to stuff that happens; and possibly come up with a theory or two about the place.

Why was I here? Recently, they've received death threats. At first, they seemed like your typical Internet trolling comments, but it got serious as the comments intensified. The death comments popped up at the same time Nick and Tim announced they would react to Woodwash Manor. They reported the incident to the police; but since it was just talk, they couldn't do much other than make a report. Tim and Nick then turned to ILOST. They hired me as a "bodyguard." Once Danny learned I'd be working with the Brothers Gloom, he had to tag along. Brain was more than happy to get him out of the lab for awhile. Sally handed him a spare Omni-Cuff. "Bring back pictures," she said.

I knocked on the door, via doorknocker. Danny danced giddily, bouncing up and down. The door opened to a man who looked like a spook in a suit. He was tall, pale, and balding. He looked like he hadn't eaten in a week...or like a skeleton that'd just found a skin suit. "Mr. Rover. Mr. Smith," he said in a slow drone. "Welcome."

"I take it you're the butler?" I gulped.

"I am indeed," he said pronouncing the word "indeed" a little too long. He motioned for us to enter.

If you wish to read more of "The Brothers Gloom React," please purchase The Beast of Camp TimberWolf from an online retailer, such as Apple Books.

Continue to the next chapter for another segment.