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Description
A little, black shadow scrambled up the side of the hill, seeking refuge as the rain soaked its skin, and as an old tumbledown house came into view, it instinctively made its way towards it. A creak was followed by a mew, as the stray tabby cat pushed though a gap in the door. Walking through the gloom, the cat’s head suddenly jerked up at the sound of an antique grandfather clock chiming midnight. The tabby carried on until it got to a staircase, where it stopped and sniffed cautiously. Treading carefully, it crept up the stairs and when it got to a broken step, jumped delicately over it. The cat’s ears pricked up and turned towards a door. From behind the door was the sound of voices and so it padded hurriedly into the room, but as it entered it arched its back and hissed as it saw a group of misty figures. They stopped what they were doing at the sight of the cat and advanced towards the terrified creature. The tabby bolted for the door, but just before it got to it, it slammed shut.
“Kitty will help us,” they said, their eyes glowing a pale, lightning coloured blue, and they swarmed over the petrified cat.
The cat’s eyes opened wide and its pupils dilated as the spirits penetrated its body. As the cat opened its mouth to scream, a blinding light shot out of it, and the cat faded and dissolved. All that was left was a pile of dust.
Echoes resounded around the now empty room, and when the clock eventually struck one, at the end of the witching hour, they vanished and were replaced by a haunting song.
“Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Half a pound of treacle,
That’s the way the money goes,
POP goes the weasel.”

*

As a cloud slid across the full moon, a group of unusual looking figures walked up the road, chatting excitedly in their high-pitched voices. When they came to the first house, they knocked, and the sound reverberated around the street. A grey-haired old woman and a bald-headed man opened the door.
“Trick or treat?” the children shouted.
The old couple smile gummy smiles, gave them some money, and filled their bags with sweets.
The kids said their thankyous and skipped down the path to the gate of the next house.
“BOO!”
The children shrieked, dropped their bags, and ran off, as four shadows jumped out on them. After checking to see if anyone saw, the three boys, accompanied by a girl, started picking up the scattered sweets and money, and stuffing their pockets with them, laughing in low tones. A fourth boy, who had seen everything from his spot in the shadows, came over. He had white-blond, spiky hair, and his normally pale blue eyes were now dark blue with anger.
“That was really tight!” he exclaimed as the others caught sight of him.
“Oh, don’t be daft,” said a boy with short cut hair and a nasty sneer, “You’re a real softy sometimes, Jack.”
“No, I’m not, I just think that was downright spiteful. I mean, how would you like it if someone came and nicked your CDs or something?”
“Shut up,” said a boy called Alex, with long dark hair and his eyebrow pierced, “You’re never right, so don’t even try to be!”
The girl walked over to Jack and pushed him into a bush.
“Yeh, shut up, scaredy cat!”
“Good one, Jade,” they laughed.
“I’m not a softy or a scaredy cat, Karl. I don’t like you picking on people smaller than you,” replied Jack calmly, as he picked himself up.
“I know you’re going to hate me for this guys,” piped up the last of the boys, “But I sort of agree with Jack. We were pretty cruel.”
“Thanks Ashley.”
Karl looked at Ashley with distaste. “You are as insignificant and pathetic as the stupid cat we chased up Downing’s manor the other night.”
“No animal in this world is insignificant,” Jack said coldly.
Karl sneered. “You only say that because your mother’s one!”
Ashley tried to stop Jack from walking towards Karl, but Jack threw him off.
“Say that again,” he growled threateningly, his face inches away from Karl’s.
“I said your mother’s…”
Karl reeled back as Jack punched him hard on the nose, and Karl’s friends backed off in fear.
“Oy! You dearly broke by dose!” Karl yelled.
“I will break it if you say one more thing about my mum!” Jack snarled, “Now you’re going to come with me and we’re going to find that cat!”
“Are you crazy?” Jade butt in, before Karl could say anything, “That damn place is haunted!”
“A few ghosts ‘aint gonna stob be,” Karl mumbled with his hand over his nose.
“Are you kidding?” Jade turned on him. “My Nan says…”
“Yeh, well your Nan’s an old crackpot!” returned Alex.
“It doesn’t matter, ‘cause we’re going anyway,” answered Jack, “Whether you like it or not.”
“Can’t make us.”
“I can. I have evidence that would satisfy the police very much,” he replied, “So come on.”
And he started to walk off down the road, followed by Ashley and the rest, dragging a reluctant Karl.

“I don’t believe you’re going along with this!” Jade almost screamed at Karl, as they arrived at the bottom of the hill and looked up towards the house.
“Like I’ve really got a choice,” he answered scathingly.
“Well…I don’t think we should go up yet,” she said rather nervously, shuffling her feet, “I mean, we should…we should wait until after…I mean…discuss it before we make any drastic actions.”
Jack looked suspiciously at Jade, who turned away and hid her face.
“Ok,” he said, “We’ll have a rest,” he sat down, “And Jade can tell us what she knows about these ‘ghosts’.”
Jade looked shocked. “I didn’t think it was that obvious that I knew about them.”
Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Just tell us what you know. It might help us in some way.”
“Ok,” sighed Jade.

*

“It was the 31st of October and in an old manor house, on top of a windy hill, a party was going on. Streamers were hung from the chandeliers and there were at least two balloons in every corner. The hosts of the party were a Mr and Mrs Downing, and they had invited all their friends to a Halloween get-together. Mr and Mrs Downing had a son Steven, who was already in bed after much arguing…or so they thought…”

A quiet call echoed down the corridor.
“Do you think the party’s started yet?”
It was replied by a whisper.
“Yes, I can hear mother and father talking to Mrs Lloyd and Mr Jeffery. Come on, let’s get the others.”
Two small ‘boy’ shaped figures crept down a flight of stairs and slipped into a small, almost inconspicuous doorway. There was a click as the door locked itself behind them, but the boys didn’t notice. A taper was lit with a match and the light revealed a young boy, about the age of twelve, with black cropped hair. He walked over to a mantelpiece, lit an oil lamp, and set it on a little coffee table in the corner of the room.
“Here,” he said, and passed the taper to his friend Harvey, who began lighting more.
While his friend was doing the former, Steven opened a window next to the mantelpiece and blew three, short whistles. As he stood back from the window into the now well-lit room, a crowd of children about the same age as him, piled through the window.
“Hi, Steve!”
“Hey, are we going to have punch?”
“Oy, you’re squishing me!”
Searching for someone, Steven called, “Coral?” and a girl with shoulder length ginger locks waded through the crowd towards him.
“Yeh, what?” she replied.
“You couldn’t get us some food from the party, could you?”
“Yeh, whatever,” she answered, and slunk back out of the window.
By now, everyone had started dancing to the music that could be heard from the adult’s party in the ballroom.
Suddenly, a scream was heard, and all at once the room seemed brighter. Steven rushed to the place where the scream had come from. He felt the heat before he saw the flames flickering next to the window, and with terror, he realised what had happened. The oil lamp on the table had been knocked over during all the fun, and no one had noticed it until the last minute.
A fire bell sounded somewhere in the house, and there was the commotion of people trying to get out of the ballroom.
“Everyone out of the window!” Steven shouted.
“We can’t!” came the reply, “The fire stops us!”
“We’ll have to go this way then!” and he pointed to the door.
Steven’s friends rushed to the door. “It’s locked!” they shrieked, “What shall we do Steven?”
Steven looked dazedly at all the hopeful and dependent faces, and slumped to the floor.
“We can’t do anything,” he said, tears rolling down his cheeks, “We’re all going to die.”
There was a shocked silence, and, one by one, the children sat in a circle in the centre of the room, as the flames licked all around them. And as they waited, death nearly upon them, they sang.

“Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Half a pound of treacle,
That’s the way the money goes,
POP goes the weasel.”

*

“Now you see why I don’t want to go up there,” finished Jade, “You remember Coral? Well she was my Nan. She only survived because she was sent to get food. The story I told you was the one that was most well known: an accident, but the one I heard rumours about was that the fire was a set up by the kids themselves. The planned to set the fire, escape, hide for a while and make their parents feel guilty for not letting them stay for the party, then appear again and say, “look, I’m all right”, where their parents would give them loads of love and fuss. But the plan backfired, the kids died, and now they want revenge. So they kill anything living that enters the house.”
There was an uneasy silence, until Karl spoke.
“Yeh, but that was ages ago, right? Surely they’re not there now?”
“Don’t be such a twat!” spat Jade, “Of course they’re there! That’s the whole reason I’m not stepping one foot inside that house!”
“Oh, come on, Jade,” grinned Alex, “You’re tough! You’re not scared of a few ghosts are you?”
“Muscles and weapons don’t work on ghosts,” Jade answered sharply, “You need brains and courage and that’s something you two,” she pointed at Karl and Alex, “haven’t got!”
“Yes, but we have,” said Jack, speaking for the first time since Jades story, “and I say we go up there and try and figure a way to stop them.”
“But what if we die too?”
“Then at least we tried.”
“I’m coming,” said Ashley, face set.
“Yeh, we might as well go too,” Alex and Karl said together, “I mean, we need a reason to be heroic, and there’s nothing left for us here anyway.”
Jack looked towards Jade. “What about it Jade?” he asked her, “We need someone who knows about ghosts and you don’t want to stay out here on your own.”
Jade stared at her feet and sighed.
“All right,” she replied, “Let’s get this thing over and done with.”
They started to traipse up the hill when Ashley suddenly said, “How are we going to stop them?”
Everyone stopped and looked at Jade.
“I...I’m sure my Nan said something…”
“You can’t remember anything at all?” Jack asked earnestly.
“Not anything?” he repeated as Jade shook her head.
“We’ll just have to try every way we can then,” said Karl sullenly, and they carried on walking.

A shiver ran up Jack’s spine as they got to the top and gazed at the ruined manor.
“Let’s kick some ghost butt!” Alex exclaimed, and stormed into the house.
“Don’t go in alone!” shouted Jade too late, and they cringed as Alex’s high-pitched scream emitted from the building.
“Shall we go in twos then?” requested Ashley faintly, and the others nodded weakly in agreement. “I’ll go with Jade, and Karl, you go with Jack.”
As they stepped into the house, a clock somewhere chimed midnight, and Jade squealed.
“SSHHH!”
“No, no, no…” she hurriedly whispered, “I know how to get rid of the ghosts! It was a poem my Nan told me…what was it? Oh, yes… ‘The chiming of midnight makes them go wild, get rid of the clock, get rid of the child.’”
“Are you sure?” asked Jack sceptically, “Don’t forget, your Nan was one of the kids, remember?”
“I’m sure my Nan would be on my side,” Jade said enthusiastically.
“We might as well,” nodded Ashley, “What else have we got to try?”
“Ok,” said Jack, “You two go left and we’ll go right. Look for a clock, and don’t forget – be careful.”
And they walked off in different directions.

“We’re going round in circles!” exclaimed Jade, as they came to the same flight of stairs for the fifth time.
“Yeh, you’re right,” replied Ashley, looking around confused.
“Hang on!” Jade said suddenly, “We haven’t been in that room!” and she pointed to a door just off to the left, halfway up the stairs.
They started to run hurriedly up the stairs, when all of a sudden they heard giggling and Ashley slipped. He tumbled backwards down the stairs and landed flat on his back. A great crack sounded around the corridor and Ashley screamed in pain.
“ASHLEY!”
Jade ran down the stairs and knelt beside him.
“Ashley…Ashley, can you move?” she asked almost hysterically, tears pouring down her face, “Come on, Ashley, try and speak!”
Ashley’s eyes opened wide and he looked, horrified, past her shoulder.
“No, no…what am I saying… don’t try and speak…” carried on Jade, oblivious to the figures getting rapidly closer behind her.
“Jade…!” Ashley cried hoarsely and indicated to the ghosts with his eyes.
Slowly, Jade turned around. Bravely, she tried to protect Ashley with her own body.
“If you take him, you take me too,” she whispered defiantly, glaring.

On the other side of the house, Karl jumped as a second scream was heard.
“That was Jade,” he said sadly, “She had a lot of spirit compared to me…”
Jack hung his head and patted Karl on the shoulder, wondering what he should say, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a single, pale shadow creeping across the floor.
“Haven’t you had enough yet?” he screamed as he backed away with Karl, but stopped suddenly.
Sat there, with it’s head on one side, was the ghostly shape of a tabby cat.
Karl went pale.
“That was the cat we chased up here the other night,” he said fearfully.
The tabby stood up unhurriedly and began to walk away. It padded up to a painting and stepped through it.
Jack followed the cat and kicked the painting hard. There was a ripping noise, and the canvas tore away to reveal a small room.
“Let’s have a look,” he said and beckoned to Karl, “It must be in here somewhere.”
The room was dark until they got to a cupboard opposite a low mantelpiece. The cupboard was glowing around the edge of the door. They shoved it open to reveal a large antique grandfather clock inside, shining with a strange blue light. The cat, sat next to the clock, hissed viciously at Jack and growled. Jack, feeling that somehow the cat was warning him, said softly to Karl, “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” and to the cat he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch it.”
The tabby mewed, strolled up to Jack, and tried to rub against his leg, unsuccessfully of course.
“It must be hard being a ghost,” he said to it, and passed his hand through its indistinct body.
Suddenly, Karl ran past the pair, bellowing a war-like cry, and hurled a brick at the clock.
The clock shattered, and the ghost children streamed out of it.
Jack stepped back hastily, as they picked Karl up, threw him against a wall and devoured him.
Once they had finished, they turned to look for Jack, but he was already gone. Their eyes glowed red and they disappeared.

Jack, meanwhile, was walking very quickly and quietly away from the painting, the tabby trotting beside him.
“I knew there was something odd about that verse,” he mumbled.
As he got to the stairs, he heard part of a faint song.
“Half a pound of tuppenny rice…”
He shuddered. “I’ve got that damn song stuck in my head now,” he said to himself.
“Half a pound of treacle…”
Slowing slightly, he frowned. “Hang on…” he muttered, “That’s not in my head…”
“That’s the way the money goes…”
“Just GO AWAY!” he shouted, “Leave us alone!” and he started running down the main staircase. But, after a couple of steps, he tripped on the broken step the cat had carefully jumped over and plummeted down, landing on a protruding shattered banister, killing him instantly. The spirit of the cat gave a pitiful yowling and curled up next to the slumped body of his one true friend, and vanished.
Above the bloody corpse, shimmering writing appeared as if written by an invisible hand, and then faded.

POP goes the weasel!

Description
A little, black shadow scrambled up the side of the hill, seeking refuge as the rain soaked its skin, and as an old tumbledown house came into view, it instinctively made its way towards it. A creak was followed by a mew, as the stray tabby cat pushed though a gap in the door. Walking through the gloom, the cat’s head suddenly jerked up at the sound of an antique grandfather clock chiming midnight. The tabby carried on until it got to a staircase, where it stopped and sniffed cautiously. Treading carefully, it crept up the stairs and when it got to a broken step, jumped delicately over it. The cat’s ears pricked up and turned towards a door. From behind the door was the sound of voices and so it padded hurriedly into the room, but as it entered it arched its back and hissed as it saw a group of misty figures. They stopped what they were doing at the sight of the cat and advanced towards the terrified creature. The tabby bolted for the door, but just before it got to it, it slammed shut.
“Kitty will help us,” they said, their eyes glowing a pale, lightning coloured blue, and they swarmed over the petrified cat.
The cat’s eyes opened wide and its pupils dilated as the spirits penetrated its body. As the cat opened its mouth to scream, a blinding light shot out of it, and the cat faded and dissolved. All that was left was a pile of dust.
Echoes resounded around the now empty room, and when the clock eventually struck one, at the end of the witching hour, they vanished and were replaced by a haunting song.
“Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Half a pound of treacle,
That’s the way the money goes,
POP goes the weasel.”

*

As a cloud slid across the full moon, a group of unusual looking figures walked up the road, chatting excitedly in their high-pitched voices. When they came to the first house, they knocked, and the sound reverberated around the street. A grey-haired old woman and a bald-headed man opened the door.
“Trick or treat?” the children shouted.
The old couple smile gummy smiles, gave them some money, and filled their bags with sweets.
The kids said their thankyous and skipped down the path to the gate of the next house.
“BOO!”
The children shrieked, dropped their bags, and ran off, as four shadows jumped out on them. After checking to see if anyone saw, the three boys, accompanied by a girl, started picking up the scattered sweets and money, and stuffing their pockets with them, laughing in low tones. A fourth boy, who had seen everything from his spot in the shadows, came over. He had white-blond, spiky hair, and his normally pale blue eyes were now dark blue with anger.
“That was really tight!” he exclaimed as the others caught sight of him.
“Oh, don’t be daft,” said a boy with short cut hair and a nasty sneer, “You’re a real softy sometimes, Jack.”
“No, I’m not, I just think that was downright spiteful. I mean, how would you like it if someone came and nicked your CDs or something?”
“Shut up,” said a boy called Alex, with long dark hair and his eyebrow pierced, “You’re never right, so don’t even try to be!”
The girl walked over to Jack and pushed him into a bush.
“Yeh, shut up, scaredy cat!”
“Good one, Jade,” they laughed.
“I’m not a softy or a scaredy cat, Karl. I don’t like you picking on people smaller than you,” replied Jack calmly, as he picked himself up.
“I know you’re going to hate me for this guys,” piped up the last of the boys, “But I sort of agree with Jack. We were pretty cruel.”
“Thanks Ashley.”
Karl looked at Ashley with distaste. “You are as insignificant and pathetic as the stupid cat we chased up Downing’s manor the other night.”
“No animal in this world is insignificant,” Jack said coldly.
Karl sneered. “You only say that because your mother’s one!”
Ashley tried to stop Jack from walking towards Karl, but Jack threw him off.
“Say that again,” he growled threateningly, his face inches away from Karl’s.
“I said your mother’s…”
Karl reeled back as Jack punched him hard on the nose, and Karl’s friends backed off in fear.
“Oy! You dearly broke by dose!” Karl yelled.
“I will break it if you say one more thing about my mum!” Jack snarled, “Now you’re going to come with me and we’re going to find that cat!”
“Are you crazy?” Jade butt in, before Karl could say anything, “That damn place is haunted!”
“A few ghosts ‘aint gonna stob be,” Karl mumbled with his hand over his nose.
“Are you kidding?” Jade turned on him. “My Nan says…”
“Yeh, well your Nan’s an old crackpot!” returned Alex.
“It doesn’t matter, ‘cause we’re going anyway,” answered Jack, “Whether you like it or not.”
“Can’t make us.”
“I can. I have evidence that would satisfy the police very much,” he replied, “So come on.”
And he started to walk off down the road, followed by Ashley and the rest, dragging a reluctant Karl.

“I don’t believe you’re going along with this!” Jade almost screamed at Karl, as they arrived at the bottom of the hill and looked up towards the house.
“Like I’ve really got a choice,” he answered scathingly.
“Well…I don’t think we should go up yet,” she said rather nervously, shuffling her feet, “I mean, we should…we should wait until after…I mean…discuss it before we make any drastic actions.”
Jack looked suspiciously at Jade, who turned away and hid her face.
“Ok,” he said, “We’ll have a rest,” he sat down, “And Jade can tell us what she knows about these ‘ghosts’.”
Jade looked shocked. “I didn’t think it was that obvious that I knew about them.”
Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Just tell us what you know. It might help us in some way.”
“Ok,” sighed Jade.

*

“It was the 31st of October and in an old manor house, on top of a windy hill, a party was going on. Streamers were hung from the chandeliers and there were at least two balloons in every corner. The hosts of the party were a Mr and Mrs Downing, and they had invited all their friends to a Halloween get-together. Mr and Mrs Downing had a son Steven, who was already in bed after much arguing…or so they thought…”

A quiet call echoed down the corridor.
“Do you think the party’s started yet?”
It was replied by a whisper.
“Yes, I can hear mother and father talking to Mrs Lloyd and Mr Jeffery. Come on, let’s get the others.”
Two small ‘boy’ shaped figures crept down a flight of stairs and slipped into a small, almost inconspicuous doorway. There was a click as the door locked itself behind them, but the boys didn’t notice. A taper was lit with a match and the light revealed a young boy, about the age of twelve, with black cropped hair. He walked over to a mantelpiece, lit an oil lamp, and set it on a little coffee table in the corner of the room.
“Here,” he said, and passed the taper to his friend Harvey, who began lighting more.
While his friend was doing the former, Steven opened a window next to the mantelpiece and blew three, short whistles. As he stood back from the window into the now well-lit room, a crowd of children about the same age as him, piled through the window.
“Hi, Steve!”
“Hey, are we going to have punch?”
“Oy, you’re squishing me!”
Searching for someone, Steven called, “Coral?” and a girl with shoulder length ginger locks waded through the crowd towards him.
“Yeh, what?” she replied.
“You couldn’t get us some food from the party, could you?”
“Yeh, whatever,” she answered, and slunk back out of the window.
By now, everyone had started dancing to the music that could be heard from the adult’s party in the ballroom.
Suddenly, a scream was heard, and all at once the room seemed brighter. Steven rushed to the place where the scream had come from. He felt the heat before he saw the flames flickering next to the window, and with terror, he realised what had happened. The oil lamp on the table had been knocked over during all the fun, and no one had noticed it until the last minute.
A fire bell sounded somewhere in the house, and there was the commotion of people trying to get out of the ballroom.
“Everyone out of the window!” Steven shouted.
“We can’t!” came the reply, “The fire stops us!”
“We’ll have to go this way then!” and he pointed to the door.
Steven’s friends rushed to the door. “It’s locked!” they shrieked, “What shall we do Steven?”
Steven looked dazedly at all the hopeful and dependent faces, and slumped to the floor.
“We can’t do anything,” he said, tears rolling down his cheeks, “We’re all going to die.”
There was a shocked silence, and, one by one, the children sat in a circle in the centre of the room, as the flames licked all around them. And as they waited, death nearly upon them, they sang.

“Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Half a pound of treacle,
That’s the way the money goes,
POP goes the weasel.”

*

“Now you see why I don’t want to go up there,” finished Jade, “You remember Coral? Well she was my Nan. She only survived because she was sent to get food. The story I told you was the one that was most well known: an accident, but the one I heard rumours about was that the fire was a set up by the kids themselves. The planned to set the fire, escape, hide for a while and make their parents feel guilty for not letting them stay for the party, then appear again and say, “look, I’m all right”, where their parents would give them loads of love and fuss. But the plan backfired, the kids died, and now they want revenge. So they kill anything living that enters the house.”
There was an uneasy silence, until Karl spoke.
“Yeh, but that was ages ago, right? Surely they’re not there now?”
“Don’t be such a twat!” spat Jade, “Of course they’re there! That’s the whole reason I’m not stepping one foot inside that house!”
“Oh, come on, Jade,” grinned Alex, “You’re tough! You’re not scared of a few ghosts are you?”
“Muscles and weapons don’t work on ghosts,” Jade answered sharply, “You need brains and courage and that’s something you two,” she pointed at Karl and Alex, “haven’t got!”
“Yes, but we have,” said Jack, speaking for the first time since Jades story, “and I say we go up there and try and figure a way to stop them.”
“But what if we die too?”
“Then at least we tried.”
“I’m coming,” said Ashley, face set.
“Yeh, we might as well go too,” Alex and Karl said together, “I mean, we need a reason to be heroic, and there’s nothing left for us here anyway.”
Jack looked towards Jade. “What about it Jade?” he asked her, “We need someone who knows about ghosts and you don’t want to stay out here on your own.”
Jade stared at her feet and sighed.
“All right,” she replied, “Let’s get this thing over and done with.”
They started to traipse up the hill when Ashley suddenly said, “How are we going to stop them?”
Everyone stopped and looked at Jade.
“I...I’m sure my Nan said something…”
“You can’t remember anything at all?” Jack asked earnestly.
“Not anything?” he repeated as Jade shook her head.
“We’ll just have to try every way we can then,” said Karl sullenly, and they carried on walking.

A shiver ran up Jack’s spine as they got to the top and gazed at the ruined manor.
“Let’s kick some ghost butt!” Alex exclaimed, and stormed into the house.
“Don’t go in alone!” shouted Jade too late, and they cringed as Alex’s high-pitched scream emitted from the building.
“Shall we go in twos then?” requested Ashley faintly, and the others nodded weakly in agreement. “I’ll go with Jade, and Karl, you go with Jack.”
As they stepped into the house, a clock somewhere chimed midnight, and Jade squealed.
“SSHHH!”
“No, no, no…” she hurriedly whispered, “I know how to get rid of the ghosts! It was a poem my Nan told me…what was it? Oh, yes… ‘The chiming of midnight makes them go wild, get rid of the clock, get rid of the child.’”
“Are you sure?” asked Jack sceptically, “Don’t forget, your Nan was one of the kids, remember?”
“I’m sure my Nan would be on my side,” Jade said enthusiastically.
“We might as well,” nodded Ashley, “What else have we got to try?”
“Ok,” said Jack, “You two go left and we’ll go right. Look for a clock, and don’t forget – be careful.”
And they walked off in different directions.

“We’re going round in circles!” exclaimed Jade, as they came to the same flight of stairs for the fifth time.
“Yeh, you’re right,” replied Ashley, looking around confused.
“Hang on!” Jade said suddenly, “We haven’t been in that room!” and she pointed to a door just off to the left, halfway up the stairs.
They started to run hurriedly up the stairs, when all of a sudden they heard giggling and Ashley slipped. He tumbled backwards down the stairs and landed flat on his back. A great crack sounded around the corridor and Ashley screamed in pain.
“ASHLEY!”
Jade ran down the stairs and knelt beside him.
“Ashley…Ashley, can you move?” she asked almost hysterically, tears pouring down her face, “Come on, Ashley, try and speak!”
Ashley’s eyes opened wide and he looked, horrified, past her shoulder.
“No, no…what am I saying… don’t try and speak…” carried on Jade, oblivious to the figures getting rapidly closer behind her.
“Jade…!” Ashley cried hoarsely and indicated to the ghosts with his eyes.
Slowly, Jade turned around. Bravely, she tried to protect Ashley with her own body.
“If you take him, you take me too,” she whispered defiantly, glaring.

On the other side of the house, Karl jumped as a second scream was heard.
“That was Jade,” he said sadly, “She had a lot of spirit compared to me…”
Jack hung his head and patted Karl on the shoulder, wondering what he should say, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a single, pale shadow creeping across the floor.
“Haven’t you had enough yet?” he screamed as he backed away with Karl, but stopped suddenly.
Sat there, with it’s head on one side, was the ghostly shape of a tabby cat.
Karl went pale.
“That was the cat we chased up here the other night,” he said fearfully.
The tabby stood up unhurriedly and began to walk away. It padded up to a painting and stepped through it.
Jack followed the cat and kicked the painting hard. There was a ripping noise, and the canvas tore away to reveal a small room.
“Let’s have a look,” he said and beckoned to Karl, “It must be in here somewhere.”
The room was dark until they got to a cupboard opposite a low mantelpiece. The cupboard was glowing around the edge of the door. They shoved it open to reveal a large antique grandfather clock inside, shining with a strange blue light. The cat, sat next to the clock, hissed viciously at Jack and growled. Jack, feeling that somehow the cat was warning him, said softly to Karl, “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” and to the cat he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t touch it.”
The tabby mewed, strolled up to Jack, and tried to rub against his leg, unsuccessfully of course.
“It must be hard being a ghost,” he said to it, and passed his hand through its indistinct body.
Suddenly, Karl ran past the pair, bellowing a war-like cry, and hurled a brick at the clock.
The clock shattered, and the ghost children streamed out of it.
Jack stepped back hastily, as they picked Karl up, threw him against a wall and devoured him.
Once they had finished, they turned to look for Jack, but he was already gone. Their eyes glowed red and they disappeared.

Jack, meanwhile, was walking very quickly and quietly away from the painting, the tabby trotting beside him.
“I knew there was something odd about that verse,” he mumbled.
As he got to the stairs, he heard part of a faint song.
“Half a pound of tuppenny rice…”
He shuddered. “I’ve got that damn song stuck in my head now,” he said to himself.
“Half a pound of treacle…”
Slowing slightly, he frowned. “Hang on…” he muttered, “That’s not in my head…”
“That’s the way the money goes…”
“Just GO AWAY!” he shouted, “Leave us alone!” and he started running down the main staircase. But, after a couple of steps, he tripped on the broken step the cat had carefully jumped over and plummeted down, landing on a protruding shattered banister, killing him instantly. The spirit of the cat gave a pitiful yowling and curled up next to the slumped body of his one true friend, and vanished.
Above the bloody corpse, shimmering writing appeared as if written by an invisible hand, and then faded.

POP goes the weasel!