It was Halloween, the crescent moon hung in the sky like a rotten fingernail, lighting just enough of the way to Jacob’s old, dilapidated mansion. Everyone knew the stories of Jacob’s ghost, but Fred, the town skeptic, wanted to debunk them. He stepped nervously into the house, his flashlight barely piercing the darkness.
The floor creaked ominously under his weight as cobwebs brushed his face. Suddenly, a chilling wind blew out his flashlight. His heart raced. He felt a cold, clammy hand on his shoulder. He turned abruptly, there was nothing.
Just as he was about to run, he heard Jacob’s familiar, ghostly voice, “Fred, you should not have come.” His blood turned cold.
He felt frozen to the spot. But summoning all his courage, he said, “Jacob, it’s just you and me.”
Just then, the lights flashed on. Fred was stunned. Jacob wasn’t a ghost! There he was, right in front of him, in flesh and blood. “Jacob, you…you are alive? But how?” Fred asked, bewildered.
Grinning, Jacob answered, “Always have been, Freddie. Guess who’s been paying your kids to spread the ‘ghost’ stories every Halloween!”