“Trick or Treat!” A deep, disembodied voice came from over Emily’s shoulder. She screamed and jumped away, while Jack, who was currently holding the flashlight to his chin cackled evilly. 

“You jerk!” She screeched and smacked him as his cackles morphed into pure mirth. “I HATE you. So. Much.”

The eighteen year-old winked at her impishly before tousling his brown hair. “Don’t get your panties in a wad, Em, we’re only planning on spending All Hallows eve in the most overrated haunted house in the state.” He laughed. “Like there’s any such thing as ghosts, poltergeists, demons, vampires, werewolves, monsters, or whatever of the other hundred idiotic things they put into horror movies. Or television series.” He gave her a pointed look. “Honestly, the scariest things are probably cheerleaders. Because nobody is that happy all the time. No one.”

She glared at him, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. “Just because you don’t believe in that sort of thing, doesn’t mean you should disparage others that do.” Emily retorted primly. “Besides,” she gestured around. “Mannsfield Manor is a house full of historic significance…”

“Blah blah blah, you just want to see if the ghost of Robert who died from a broken heart still roams these walls.” Jack fluttered his eyelashes.

“No…” Emily muttered sullenly, focusing on the house in front of them. The Manor was a large, dilapidated building that had housed, at one point, twenty rooms and been used as everything from a hotel to event venue and everything in between. The building had also hosted rumors of paranormal activity for the past fifty years.

Emily shivered as she and Jack made their way up the path towards the front door, feeling in her pocket for the candle she had there to light for Robert Withe, the heartbroken ghost. She closed her eyes briefly as they reached the front door. Jack looked over at her, his mirth momentarily forgotten.

“We don’t have to do this Emily, not if you don’t want to.”

She looked over at him and grinned, before opening up the door. “Robert,” she shouted. “Robert Withe! I have a candle for you.”

She stepped further into the dark, mildewy building. 

“Robert?” 

The door closed behind her.

“Robert’s not here.” Whispered an old, cold voice into her left ear. Jack was on her right side.