A few years ago my friend and I were walking by the Maynard Alley and she asked me if I had written any stories based on the Wah Mee Club Massacre.
What she really wanted to know was, had I written any ghost stories based on the Club.
I told her I had not.
She told me that was a good idea.
This is the reason why I haven’t done it:
Whenever I walk by the Alley I think of these lines by Shirley Jackson:
Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.”
I think that something walks alone in the darkness of the Wah Mee now
and it will walk alone there forever.