Charlotte

' Everyone talks about the old house at the end of the street but I couldn't believe what happened when I went inside...' Charlotte type into her laptop as she unwillingly recalled the memories of the Gray house. A shudder captivated her body and she somehow managed to steady herself. Charlotte was a journalist, a paranormal writer. She reviewed so - called haunted places and wrote scary reports about them. Honestly, none of them had any real ghosts; she always ended up writing fictional tales about how the ghost was double her size, how it strangled her and she barely escaped.

     Last week, she took a bus to Middleton, a small village, to review some haunted place called The Gray House. 'Har har another fibble', she thought, and walked through the countryside. It was a beautiful place, lush green trees, cloudless, vibrant sky, how could such a charming place have a haunted house, where of course no real ghouls existed.

      Charlotte explored the place as she waited for sunset. She took voice notes of some locals telling her about a folklore.

Apparently, a girl named Lucie Gray committed suicide by jumping off the window, triggering the deaths of her newly moved in siblings. A cop who went there after nightfall was also found dead. Everyone who goes there after midnight- dead under nearby banyan tree. And I mean, dead, dead, dead.

Locals said that Lucie's ghost killed them. 'How typical of Lucie's ghost', Charlotte thought. She rented a hotel fairly near the house. The receptionist there was oddly friendly. Heck, the whole town was so friendly it made Charlotte homesick of New York, where you could pop out of the ground and hire a taxi and no one would notice. Friendliness creeped her out. If the ghosts here are also friendly, I'm outta here. She could imagine a ghost named Fred popping out of nowhere and greeting her a good day. Oh, Fred could haunt her nightmares now. Great.