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Yeah, Im going on vacation soon and I'd like to hear the end... Oh Where Oh Where is my little Arnie, oh where oh where could he be???? :(

Okay everyone. Let's face it. Arnie is out of ideas. You did know he was spinning a tale, right? You'll have to use your own imaginations to come up with an ending.

Get it: We got it - we didn't care - Arnie is an excellent story-teller. We miss him. Rest in peace, Arnie.

I was enjoying Arnie's tale, but does anyone else think it's cheating to change the rules of the story's universe midway through? First the ghost can't see or hear Lisa, then he can. Tsk, tsk.

Why have you not finished your story Arnie? Are you enjoying all this? All we want is to hear the end of your gripping story. So hurry up Arnie!

Arnie - I've gone on vacation and came home...and I am STILL waiting for your conclusion on the story...can you finish it pppppplllllleeeeeeaaaaassssseeeee? I'm real anxious for the conclusion. Thanks.

I guess Arnie retired!

It's called, tricordian .

Dearest people: I cannot apologize enough for having brought you this far and then, seemingly, abandoned you; I assure you this was never my intention. Without going into detail, please believe me when I tell you that my recent absence was unavoidable. I am back now and I plan to finish the story within the next couple of days. I don't blame those of you who have given up on me. Those of you still here, may wish to refresh your memories by re-reading the end of the previous installment. Again, my apologies. "Lisa knew she was running out of time. With her back against the wall and the pickaxe rising in front of her, Lisa’s left hand found what she believed to be the molding on the side of the doorway through which she had entered this unwelcoming room. She wanted to look to her side and make sure the molding lead to the doorway this time, but Lisa didn’t dare take her eyes off the stranger for fear he would end her life with one blow. Suddenly and without warning the stranger took a step toward her. He let out a bellowing cry and began bringing the pickaxe downward in one swift motion. Lisa was ready, however, and the moment he took his step, she clasped the molding firmly and—in one motion--used it to pull her body to the left and swing through where she prayed the doorway was. As she spun around, Lisa felt the axe whoosh by her ear in its downward search for her skull. Continuing in her full-body spin, she shot through the doorway and back into the hallway—just in time to hear the axe “thuk” into the wall directly where she had been standing only a second before. Her momentum getting the best of her, Lisa fell forward across the short width of the hallway and, once again, cracked her head into the wall opposite. Red and white dots danced before Lisa’s eyes as she struggled to remain conscious. Knowing that her life was on the line, Lisa struggled to clear her head enough to stand up and run: Run from this stranger, run from this house, run and run and run. Somehow she managed to rise to her knees before being overcome by nausea. Fighting against the pain, nausea and the pinpoints of light in her eyes, Lisa gathered up all that remained of her strength and stood to her feet. Slowly, she turned around—only to see the grinning man standing just on the other side of the doorway leading back to the strange room. Lisa tried to will herself to move but the second blow to her head was taking its toll. She felt she was losing consciousness and gravely understood the ramifications if she did. Lisa shook her head in a vain attempt to clear it; as she did, she saw the pinpoints of light begin to fade—she was blacking out. Lisa began sliding down the wall toward oblivion. Although she could make out the vague shape of the stranger across the hall, for some reason he was no longer moving toward her. Finally, unable to hold on any longer, Lisa passed out--but not before the faint image of the stranger opening his mouth to laugh managed to burn itself into her brain. When Lisa came to, all she knew was she had to get up and out of there, fast. No sooner did she begin to sit up when she felt a pair of hands against her shoulders pressing her back down. “Oh my God,” she thought, “it’s too late, he’s on me.”

Welcome back, Arnie!

Arnie How about some answers. Checked on the internet - didn't find anything on Syrus Aeckney Inn in Maine. Did you run out of ideas for your tale, or what? Message: Since I was at the library last night doing research anyway, I decided to look up any references to Syrus Aeckey and his place. I had just about given up when I came across a listing in the archives for a book written in 1950, titled: "Unholy Evil: The Awful Truth Behind Syrus Aeckney". Unfortunately, my library doesn't have a copy of this and says it is no longer in print. The publisher is listed as "Partisan Publishing" and the author is listed as "A. Norman". If any of you out there are interested in this and happen to locate a copy would you please e-mail me? Thanks, Natalie Message: Arnie (and others who seem to know about Syrus Aeckney) After reading Katerina's post that she could find nothing on the internet, I did a search as well. I also did a search on the book title, author and publishing company Natalie posted about - again -- Nothing. Checked Maine library re: haunted houses, etc. Nothing. So I'm curious, where in Maine did this take place? The coast is fairly broad. Oh, and was it the Jerome Kern, composer? We're all waiting for your story to continue. Natalie / Arnie Notice you didn't defend yourself. Guess that's the same as admitting that you made up "Unholy Evil....." How many other personalities do you have? Sybil or Syrus hiding in there? I dare someone (anyone) to come up with a legitimate website, or book currently in print, that says ANYTHING about Syrus Aeckney. Arnie says he was at Syrus Aeckney Inn 10 years ago. Why does absolutely nothing come up when doing a search. I have some swampland for you, if you are interested. Message: Ok. I had a friend of mine who works at the NY Public Library research this and she came up with ..... NOTHING! This place DOES NOT exist. Message: Thanks Michelle. That's what I've been trying to day all along, but No Doubting, Natalie, Boo, Tam and a few others seem to be buying it. Oh well, as P.T.Barnum said, there's one born every minute. Message: I was enjoying Arnie's tale, but does anyone else think it's cheating to change the rules of the story's universe midway through? First the ghost can't see or hear Lisa, then he can. Tsk, tsk. How about a response, Arnie.

Waiting: As we have stated all along, we DON'T CARE that Arnie is making this up - he's a wonderful story teller. Get over it and come along for the ride.

Arnie. It is great to have you back with the story. You are a great story teller. Thank you for sharing with all of us who have followed.

Ok, while we wait for Arnie to finish his story, let me tell you what happened to me in the summer of 1969. I was serving my second tour of duty in Nam. On Aug. 17th my unit was sent out on a mission. We had taken some heavy hits in the previous months and about half my squad was fresh from the states. One PFC, a kid from Mississippi, we called him "coot" was especially inept. I kind of took him under my wing as best I could. It was only a matter of time before he was going to go home in a bodybag. Anyhow, on this day, we got dropped into a pretty hot LZ, taking heavy fire, we bailed out,,running for the jungle,,about 30 mins into the jungle, we start to get hammered pretty hard,, I'm about to charge up over this fallen log, when I feel a tug on my belt, pulling me back down. At about the same moment the canopy just above me is just blown away by a hail of machine gun fire. Looking behind me I see Coot, a strange look in his eyes. Knowing he just saved my ass. I grab his hand. Its like ice cold!! Another blast of fire and I bury my head under the log. When it lets up I pull my head up slowly. looking around to see if Coot had made cover,,I dont see him...thinking he must of slide back out behind me I crawled back the way I came until it was clear... Regrouping, we accounted for everyone except Coot, and three other guys. I told everyone how Coot, of all people, had saved my life. Only later did I learn he didnt even make it off the choper......he took one in the head at the get go. No lie!!!

Stan - that was one incredible story. Coot obviously was an angel guiding your path. Arnie - keep the story coming. Whether it is a true story or not, you are an awesome story teller and i've been a fan since you started this!

Stan - That is a great story, very interesting. SO glad to see Arnie is finishing the story, will the end come by friday perchance???

Stan: How long did it take to stop shaking? What an unbelievable story that is!

In Key West, you can go on a ghost tour. The island has a reputation for having several haunted buildings. Among them is the La Concha Hotel on Duval. The 5th floor is reported haunted by two spirits, Earnest Hemmingway and also by a man who worked there serving food, etc. He died in the elevators. Also, in Key West, the guest house "The Artist House" is said to be haunted -- quite a scarey story there -- go on the tour to find out. And, there is a guest house called something like "Eaton . . . ." on Eaton street -- don't remember the second part of the name. This is also said to be haunted. Don't miss the ghost tours. Meet at the La Concha Hotel for the tours, I think around 7:00 p.m. The tour guides dress as vampires, carry lanterns, and are very informative with each story for each building they take you to.

So glad to see Arnie back. I was away for @ 11 days & wondered about this post a couple times. Althought he fake Arnie's tale was good nothing beats the orig Hope tohear more soon