A thick fog filled the streets of Flower Valley, enveloping the houses in a soft, damp cloud. It was past midnight when Sara, Tom and Lena, armed with torches and sleeping bags, crept through the overgrown gate of an old house in Blavatna Street. - 'I told you this was a bad idea,' whispered Tomek, looking out for shadows among the tall grasses of the garden. - 'Shh, it'll be great! - giggled Lena, correcting her rucksack on her shoulder. - 'Who knows, maybe we'll meet a ghost? Sara looked at the dark windows of the house. The last tenant had moved out many years ago, and there were all sorts of legends about the building. It was said that someone walks in the corridors at night, and sometimes smoke rises from the chimney, although no one can see the fire. The friends entered the creaky porch. The door was ajar. After a moment's hesitation, Lena gently pushed it open with her hand. A chill and the smell of dust came from inside. Torches glided over cobwebs and old paintings covered in the grey film of time. - 'Hey, did you guys hear that? - asked Tom quietly as the floor somewhere upstairs creaked quietly. - 'It's an old house after all,' reassured Sara, although she herself felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. They went into the living room, where they arranged the sleeping bags around the old tiled cooker. Lena started telling scary stories, although everyone knew she was doing it to drown out her own fear. Suddenly, all the torches went out simultaneously and the room was plunged into a blackness so thick that you couldn't even see your own hands. For a few seconds, only hushed breaths could be heard. - It must be the batteries... they can't drain all at once.... - tried to joke Sara. At the same moment, something heavy fell from above. Then they heard slow, deafening footsteps on the stairs. They could hear someone, or something, moving towards them.... The friends sat still, staring into the darkness, while the footsteps grew louder and closer....