Amanda came to play with me in the attic when I stayed with Granny in Salem. She was my first cousin on my father's side of the family. We used to have fun, laughing at vintage clothes we found in the trunks, pretending we were ladies from another time, or another world, as we dressed ourselves in the delicate satins, laces and velvets of our grandmother's youth. But lately my cousin seemed stranger, darker. Sometimes she scared the heck out of me.

"Do you think the dead can hear us?" Amanda asked, as she thumbed through the dusty photo album she had found. I stood in front of Granny's oval antique mirror, admiring the way I looked in one of her old lace dresses, a wide-brimmed hat perched on top of my head, and strands upon strands of her rhinestone necklaces draped around my neck.

"I don't like to think about things like that." I spun around, watching the layers of lace lift and sway. The jewelry shimmered, catching color and patterns. I danced, dodging storage boxes and jumping over musty smelling cartons.

"I think about it a lot," she said as she removed a picture of Uncle David from the album and tacked it on the wall. "I think Uncle David can hear us."

I tried to break Amanda's dark mood. "Want to dress up in one of Granny's dresses? Then we can pretend that we're going to a ball, like fairy princesses."

"No, I want to look at the pictures, "she said as she pinned a snapshot of Aunt Sally next to our departed uncle's.

I shrugged my shoulders, deciding that shortly some of our grandmother's home-baked cookies and stories from the old country would cheer up my cousin. "OK, then, do what you want. You used to like to play dress up with me." I picked up a brooch, admiring the delicate design and the way the metal and stones sparkled.

Amanda sighed. "I get bored with that sometimes. There are more interesting things to do here in the attic."

"Oh, like what?"

"Like wait for the dead to rise."

"Stop it, you're being creepy again." I touched her face. She felt cold.

Salem, Massachusetts was scary enough with its dark legends and bloody history. I didn't need Amanda adding to the uneasiness I felt when I visited. Once again I tried to get her mind off death--I tried in vain when I said, "Maybe we should go downstairs and help our Grandmother frost the cookies."

Ignoring me, Amanda said, "Wasn't Cousin Rachel pretty?" She held the photo up to the light for a moment, then placed it next to the other pictures on the wall.

"Yes, she was. But she's dead now. So what does it matter how pretty she was?"

"I think there's beauty in death."

"Well, I'm really not interested in finding out for a long time, until I'm older than Granny." I took the dress off, removed the hat and jewelry, then put them in their places in the trunk. Slamming the lid, I said, "I'm going downstairs. Are you coming?"

Amanda shut the album, and began to shuffle a deck of Tarot cards she had found in one of the boxes. They had been Aunt Sally's. The pictures on the deck were of dark figures, with pale faces that floated above familiar scenes from the town of Salem; including Gallows Hill where the witches were hanged, and the haunted Nathaniel Hawthorne Hotel.

"Isn't it weird how they all died that night... Cousin Rachel, Aunt Sally and Uncle David? They had gone out for a night of fun. I remember that they were all laughing and joking before they left the house." She picked up the deck of cards, shuffled, and then laid it down again. "They never came home. Their bodies were found in an alley by the docks. I heard that Aunt Sally was nailed to a door--like she had been crucified. Uncle David's heart was lying by his head. And Cousin Rachel's... "

"I don't want to hear about it again. Stop thinking about that night! Stop talking about it!"

She picked up the deck and turned over a card that illustrated a ghoulish figured walking through the Charter Street Cemetery, she looked up at me and said, "Don't you want to find out what really happened to them? You'll be able to in a little while."

"They died. That's what happened. What more is there to know?"

"The people in Salem village sensed evil way in the seventeen- hundreds. They hung a lot of innocent people who they thought were responsible for the evil. They made a mistake." She spoke as though she was in a trance. Spit dribbled down her chin. "There are beings here --evil things--that have existed before the Puritans ever settled in Salem. Things that walk in the night. Not vampires. Not ghosts or zombies. Dark creatures that exist and breed upon our fears--our mortality-- our blood."

"Amanda, I'm going downstairs. Come on, I smell the cookies baking."

"No, wait." She held me with her eyes. "Demons walk here. Sons and daughters of the devil. They can kill you and make you one of them. There are gateways to Hell hidden underneath the ocean. The dead sleep by day and rise with the moon." She turned over a card. The image of Death--the grim reaper--rose from the sea. His menacing skull loomed against a black sky. Dark red droplets fell from his bony fingers. Wailing specters surrounded him.

"That deck of cards is horrible. Put it away. Please, Amanda."

She smiled, her lips curling wickedly. "Ever look way back there behind those curtains?" She pointed to the rear of the attic, where black curtains were strung across the ceiling. They hung down to the floor, hiding something; perhaps the Christmas presents that our grandmother had bought. She always spoiled her grandchildren on the holidays and shopped months in advance for our gifts.

"No, granny told me never to go back there." I knew that I had to get away from Amanda, and out of the attic. I looked out the window and saw the sun sinking below the horizon. Soon it would be dark. Granny always told me to make sure I was back downstairs before then.

"In the daytime they sleep in the rooftops, attics and gables. They return to their father beneath the sea each evening when the sun sets. He anoints them with tears and blood of those who recently died in his name. Then he sends them back to earth to recruit new members for his demonic tribe."

The sky was turning a deep purple as the sun sank deeper. "I'm going downstairs. Granny is waiting."

Amanda looked at me. I could not move. The sun was almost gone. "What would you do if the dead walked through those curtains?"

"You're scaring me, Amanda. Stop it... please."

"Granny knows. She's hidden them here for years. First her own parents, then her brothers... now our aunt, uncle and cousin."

Darkness had come.

"Our family belongs to the devil. One by one he claims us all."

I heard creaking sounds, slow footsteps, ragged sighs. I wanted to run. I was frozen where I stood.

The curtains opened. One by one they walked out--dead relatives. Their eyes blazing, and their lips parted in hungry leers. They surrounded me, hands reaching out, brushing my hair and lips. Smells of must, roses and decay permeated the air.

I fell to my knees, squeezed my eyelids shut and prayed that God would somehow make the sun rise again, that he would make the evil in the attic go away.

They hissed and laughed in mocked tones.

Amanda's voice sounded shrill, pleading, "Finish what you started. I want to go with you tonight and forever."

She cried out. I felt something wet and sticky splatter against my arm.

I heard the window slide up, felt icy air on my face. When I opened my eyes I peered into the night, saw them flying over rooftops, over Willow's Pier; white faces shining like porcelain beneath the moon--descending into the icy waters of the sea. Demonic relatives, glowing with a strange beauty, Uncle David, Aunt Sally, Cousin Rachel... And Amanda.

I screamed. And wondered if she could hear me as her blood trickled down my arm.