Shadow's Realm: Part 1

There is a house upon a hill in upstate New York. A Normal house where people live for three days, and then move out. No one knows why, except for the people who lived there. And they are all . Except for one.
There is a man who lives down the street. A very old, and tired old man. if you go and ask him why the people leave, he'll ask you if you have ever heard the singing. And when you say 'no' he will tell you the song. It goes like this:

"Here is the house where humans died,
Here is the house that bore the cry,
Here is the house where the Shadow lies."

Then the old man tells you that the first night he slept there he............I'll let you read it yourself.

“You’re going to love our new home, Marco! It’s up on hill, it has a huge yard for you and friends too!” Marco’s mother said from the front seat. She looked in the rear view mirror and studied her son’s expression. “What’s wrong, honey?” she asked in her high pitched voice.
“Nothing, I’m fine.” The dark haired boy lied. In truth, he felt horrible. Who said he wanted to move to the country? Who said he wanted to leave New York City? Who said he wanted to leave his friends, his school, his life behind?
That’s the way life is, isn’t it? Who can stop God, Marco thought. His put hi forehead against the window, feeling the vibration of the car as it moved. Fields, cows, farms, countryside. That’s all there was out there, beyond the glass. This was where he was going; this was where he was going to live. From New York City, to Ithica. Maybe I could run away, he thought. That was out of the question; N.Y.C was miles away from Ithica.
“We’re here!” Marco’s dad called from the driver’s seat. Marco’s head bumped against the pane of glass as they drove into the driveway. The driveway twisted up the hill in the most curious way; weaving through trees and bushes. Finally the car stopped and the family stepped out of the blue Subaru outback.
Marco’s dad went to the U-haul and started to take their furniture out. His mother rushed over to help; her dark brown hair swirling in the wind behind her. Marco watched for a bit, stepping aside so his parents could carry the usual table or bed. After seeing the entire kitchen furniture being moved, Marco walked up and studied his new home.
It did indeed have a large yard. And it was indeed a large house. A Victorian one to be exact; painted sky blue. A wrap-around porch circled the house. Windows dotted the exterior walls, while two turrets rose up and pierced the sky. Marco was not amazed at the splendid beauty of his new mansion. He had seen bigger buildings than the turrets. He had seen structures built entirely out of windows. He had seen millionaire’s land bigger than the yard.
The Hispanic boy stepped onto the porch, and looked around. Nothing; obviously. They were just moving in, so no furniture could be put on the porch. Marco looked down at the wooden planks that served as the floor of the porch. Marco looked up immeadiately and pinched himself. He must’ve been dreaming! He looked down at the floor again. And as clear as day, there it was.
Blood.