The agent disclosed that the prior owner had hung himself in the closet. Not deterred, Connie requested time alone in the house. Death didn’t always mean hauntings, and hauntings weren’t always malevolent.
She tentatively entered the closet. “Are you here?” she asked aloud. “Are you here?” she repeated. A translucent man appeared, suspended by a rope. He smiled and offered his ethereal hand. Connie reached out.
Electricity tore through her body. Agonizing pain in her neck—can’t breathe.
He stood before her, as she swung from the rope. “Your turn,” he said. He left the closet and all went black.
Author’s Note: After I bought my first house I was told that the previous owner had hung himself there. Though I never saw or heard from him from the other side, I was always on the lookout.