The hallway was despairingly dark, unnaturally cold and smelled of some substance unknown to Sarah Morgan. The only light was that of her small flashlight, the beam flashing from side to side and up and down in a furtive effort to be shone on every nook and cranny that existed. The only sound was that of the inconstant flap of Sarah's sandals on the hard, cold stone floor. Sarah did not know what she was following or where she was for that matter. She had been lounging lazily by her bedroom window, unpacking many boxes of items that she claimed she could not live without, and dreaming of other places she could be at that precise moment. "It speaks to me Sarah, it says something!" Sarah's mother had exclaimed to her when they first arrived, but Sarah could not get past the broken shutters, the smashed windows, chipping paint and tattered dirty gray gate that flapped uselessly in the fall wind. Sarah could tell the house had once been a lovely brown color and the gate once white and straight, everything in place and every detail exact, but since the passing of the old owner, it had fallen into ruins. As Sarah was thinking about how she could decorate her room, a movement by her bedroom door caught her wondering eye.

It was a long, wavering, dark shadow that seemed to be opaque but when it moved slightly, Sarah could see straight through it. Her mouth drooped open and she stopped breathing. The shadow stood its ground for a few seconds but then faded down the hall, and left Sarah wondering if she really saw anything. Ghost hunting had been her passion since she was old enough to grasp the concept of what a ghost was. She read about them, about haunted houses and graveyards. Her parents were skeptical, and stated so often. "You have so many talents. Why in the world would you want to waste them trying to find ghosts? Its utter nonsense and you'll not be getting anywhere in life with a silly dream like that." Sarah's father would always blabber this speech at her, part of her listening and becoming enraged and the other half off in a fantasy land. She decided not to pay any attention to her parents or whoever tried to encourage her to find another hobby. "It's my life and my dreams. You can't change them and I won't let you!" This was Sarah' s answer to whoever was telling her to forget ghosts and hunting them. The prospect of maybe seeing a ghost tore Sarah out of her musings and knocked her into action. She tripped over boxes and suitcases, scrambling for her sandals and finally skidded into the short hallway.

To Sarah's disappointment, there was no spectral, no shadow and no trace of one being there. Her shoulders slumped in shame and defeat. "I want to prove my daft parents wrong so badly, I guess I'm now conjuring up ghosts in an effort to beat them!" Sarah muttered this turning to stomp angrily back to her room when she froze. At the end of the hall, there it was. It seemed unnaturally tall, almost hitting the ceiling and appeared even darker and more threatening then at first. It had no face, no arms or legs, just what gave the impression of being a blob, a shimmering mass that was nothing, but yet something. "I'm not going insane! It really is there! Oh this will teach mom and dad for sure!" Sarah's thoughts raced and she bravely started to make her way down the hall. All reason and common sense had left her, leaving her wanting to touch it, see if it was real, talk to it. Before any other movement could be made on Sarah's part, the shadow glided into the kitchen. Sarah instantly thought of the only place it could be heading: the basement.

Sarah's ego went into orbit at the thought of the expressions on her parents faces when she told them what she, Sarah Morgan, had discovered in this dilapidated shack of a house. It was this ego boost that now had Sarah creeping through a smelly, chilly and frankly disgusting passageway that seemed to lead to no where. The hallway had an air of being secret and forbidden, like not one soul, one living soul, had ever entered it and now that one was there, did not like it. There was a heaviness and intensity that filled Sarah's head and lungs and tried to stomp out her breath, leaving her gasping in fright. She had to use all of her might keep from blubbering in pure terror.

When she had decided to pursue the ghoul, it did indeed lead her to the basement, which was not the most amicable area. It was showered in spider webs, unfurnished, and was deathly cold. It smelled of mildew and rot, and broken pipes were strewn across the floor. In one corner rested a washer, blanketed in rust and appeared to be melted to the spot. In another corner lay old trunks, boxes and rusty tools, all of which contained an essence of mustiness and dust. Sarah had to agree that the house had spirit, or even housed them, and that is why it came to be no shock when located in front of the boxes and trunks, was a trap door standing wide open, as if by invitation. Sarah pounced on an old flashlight lying on a shelf nearby and quickly descended the stairs that had lead to the hallway of horror.

Now that Sarah had seen the hallway and felt the horrible evil that lay within its walls, all she wanted was to turn around and go back, but she felt as if some force was pulling her forward, dragging her to her fate. She wobbled and quivered but kept moving, kept creeping and listening, waiting for some strange happening. The feeling of being trapped forever quickly left Sarah when she came into the vicinity of a large oak door. It stood almost seven feet tall, like the mysterious shadow, and had intricate designs carved into its rich surface. Mixed feelings passed through Sarah as she contemplated what to do. She finally raised a hesitant hand to the middle of the door, over her head and banged quickly before pulling her hand back, as if she would be burned by the door's surface. The door slowly groaned partly open, and a shaft of light streamed through, making Sarah wince at the brightness and gape at the affect it had on the hall.

Less than two seconds before, the hall was a dreary existence, one of darkness and evil. Now that the light was barely shining on it, it seemed to come alive with joy and radiance. It was almost like the dark had never touched the surfaces, never left its mark on the walls. As Sarah pushed the moaning door fully open, she suddenly relaxed. She smiled in relief and knew that everything would be alright as she passed through the doorway and lugged the door shut behind her.