It was a dark Halloween’s evening. It was that time of evening where the sun had just vanished from the cloudless sky and darkness was closing in. Tom was fifteen years old and was staying in a lonely house down the country with Brendan and George. The tiny cottage belonged to George’s grandmother, who passed away three years ago to this date. That didn't bother George or Brendan, however, Tom, being a little bit superstitious, felt differently. He decided not to mention it, knowing that his friends would try to frighten him if they found out he was scared.
The three friends sat around the fire located in the middle of the room, the middle of the house for that matter as there was only one room. The walls could not even been seen as the spider webs were so dense from the ceiling to the old, wooden floorboards. They thought it would be best not to go near the walls.
The three lads were playing a board game that was found it a tattered box on a shelf in the corner of the room. Their original plan was to go out and walk to the village about a mile away from the house, wearing black clothes, each with a different mask on the face. They knew they would scare the little kids walking around the village but decided immediately that they would much rather play the mysterious game they found in the corner, however, they knew it was just another way of saying they were too scared to go out alone. Now, they sat around the fire, sitting on three fold up chairs, staring at the game that sat on the small, slightly lob sided wooden table, simply labelled “ghost”.
Tom picked up the game and inspected the box. There was absolutely nothing on the either the front or the back. It was just a plain black box. Tom carefully took of the battered cardboard lid. He was met with a cloud of dust filling the air. He carefully took out the board and the two dice that were lying on top of the board. George and Brendan looked on in suspense. Tom put the board on the table and opened it up as it was folded in half. The three lads stared at the contents, trying to make sense of it. It appeared to be some sort of path with different pictures after every few spaces on the board. There were spiders, bees, snakes, and some pictures of animals that none of the three boys had ever seen before, but what they thought was really strange was that the path suddenly ended at the bottom of the board and there was nothing but a picture of a ghost. It was unclear at first what the image was, but they soon realised that the ghost was a picture of a soldier, a dead transparent soldier.
George was the first to pick up the dice. Without even a second thought, he rolled the dice across the table. It was two fours. He moved his marker, slowly, eight places. Just as his marker reached the eighth space that had a picture of a giant spider, the air in the room was filled with a huge cloud of dust. The three lads coughed. Just as the air had cleared and the dust had returned to the floor, tom noticed a big black spider on George’s shoulder. George jumped, after all the spider was almost the size of his hand. Before he even had time to shove it off his shoulder, the spider dashed straight for his neck and lunged its two hairy fangs straight into his vein. There was no blood, just a tiny mark where the spider had injected him. George fell to the ground while Tom and Brendan stared at him in disbelief. Suddenly, they say a scrunched up piece of paper slip out of George’s pocket. They read it. It said, “Continue playing or he will not return”. They tried to make sense of it. They were both terrified. Tom decided that there was only one thing that there was only one thing they could do. They had to keep playing.
Brendan decided to go next. He picked up the dice. He rolled it was a five and a four. He moved his marker nine places and just as he reached the ninth space, he froze. It was a magic curse. He remained frozen and there was silence in the room as Tom picked up the two dice for which he knew would be the last throw. It was up to him. He rolled, his heart in his mouth. Two sixes. He moved his marker slowly, but surely. He soon realised there were only twelve spaces. He reached the last space, but nothing happened. Suddenly out of nowhere, man ran straight for him, no, a ghost ran straight for him, like the one in the picture on the board. He jabbed his spear ended gun straight into Tom’s heart. Tom fell to the ground his eyes wide open. He was still. Dead.
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