Rich Jameson and the Ancient Storm Mystery

Now, I hate this chair. It's a relic from the previous owner of this house. So old that it would always have a bit of a wobble to it. But it's not just the chair itself, no. The thing is that every time I sit down in this chair, something happens to me.

Last time, my daughter Daisy pulled a prank on me by hiding all my cigars so she could catch me smoking in the kitchen with her friends. That was her idea of a joke, but I didn't see where there was anything funny about it. I've also been attacked by my son, who broke his arm trying to prove he could still beat me up even though he was now taller than me. Twice. And then there was my wife. She used this chair as an excuse to tell me off for being too much of a workaholic.

I'm not sure why she wasn't happy with something else about me - she never really made clear what the problem was. Besides, haven't we had this conversation before?

But that was all before. Now I'm sitting here alone on a stormy night waiting for Daisy and her friends to get back from their little expedition around the property while I have one last glass of wine and enjoy another cigar after dinner - because apparently they're also out of cigars at home now! How many times do I have to tell them? If you smoke, you can't touch the family supply!

So here I am in this chair again listening to the storm outside while thinking about how miserable and boring life can be sometimes when suddenly...

"Dad!"

...I hear my daughter calling out from downstairs at the front door, making me jump from my seat as if shot from a cannon, spilling some wine over myself and dropping the cigar onto the floor!

"Daisy! What are you doing here?" I shout back as loud as possible into the darkness of the hallway and storm outside, hearing my voice echo through the vast empty space around me in response. "What about your friends? Where did you leave them?"

"We got chased off by some creep," Daisy calls back from downstairs as if that explains everything. "He said he lived in a shack out here."

A creep? There are dozens of people living on this property who may qualify as creeps! But none of them would have chased off my daughter and her friends except... "Jimmy!" I shout angrily into the darkness of the hall again. "How many times do I have to tell you? Stay away from us!"

I'm already running down the stairs towards Daisy when suddenly...

"Dad! Look at all these weird symbols!" Daisy shouts excitedly up at me again when suddenly her words are drowned out by a clap of thunder so loud that it rattles every window in our house! A moment later there is another clap of thunder so loud that an old painting falls off its hook on the wall directly above our heads and crashes onto the hardwood floor below us! "Oh my God!" Daisy screams as she turns back towards us in shock and fear followed by another flash of lightning that momentarily blinds us both and deafens us with yet another clap of thunder! "Run for cover!" she cries out before grabbing my hand with one hand and pulling open the front door with her other hand when suddenly we're both blinded by yet another flash of lightning so powerful that we don't see our own hands let alone anything else in front of us only to be deafened once more seconds later by yet another clap of thunder which seems to shake every single brick in our house as if God himself has picked up this entire building and dropped it back down again! All while being fiercely pelted by raindrops bigger than grapefruits against our bodies until finally we manage to stumble through what felt like an endless darkness towards what seemed like safety only to find ourselves...