We spent the night in a haunted house. We didn’t have to. No one forced us. We’re not sure now why we did.
There were no horrifying apparitions. No blood dripped slowly from the ceiling. Nothing moaned or whispered. No fingers clutched or trailed softly down the soft hairs along our arms. The house was musty and damp, and we slept fitfully, fearfully, expectantly.
Nothing at all happened.
Except when we opened the door to leave and found only another hallway stretching off into the dark and distance, smelling of age and mildew.
Part of the Advent Ghosts annual event at I Saw Lightning Fall.