This was going to be the easiest bet she’d ever won, Mary thought. An old, crooked house with wrought-iron gates and broken windows was too much of a cliché to be really haunted. She checked her watch. Only 6 hours to go before she could claim the £1000 stake. It was too cold to sleep, but she had a torch and a large supply of magazines. Snuggling into her sleeping bag she tried to concentrate on the fashion pages and ignore the sound of creaking floorboards.
The clock struck thirteen. That’s when she heard a scream from upstairs and her torch exploded.
This post is part of the 100 Word Challenge for Grown-Ups at The Head’s Office