'Don't go inside, it's haunted!' the neighborhood kids had told Zack. Hesitantly, he leaned into the heavy front door.
Awoken from their slumber, the hinges creaked, proclaiming their rusty disapproval. A pin-prick shaft of moonlight picked out dancing dust particles in the balmy night air of the hallway.
Zack switched his flashlight on and went inside. All of the rooms were empty, eerily silent in their reflective solitude.
Zack had seen enough to satisfy his curiosity. The house wasn't haunted at all, of that he was certain.
The headless spectre standing directly behind him told an altogether different tale.