Of course, because your parents had told you not to go in the room you just had to see what was in there. And of course, because Toby’s big brother had told you that tale you just had to see what was in there. So just in case it was as dark as the black hut in there you put your torch in your pocket and listened once more. Nothing. So, you took a big breath and pushed against the door. Nothing happened. You pushed harder. The door stuck. So you ran and jumped against it, stumbled into the room.
As you tried to regain your balance, you blundered against the door. It thudded shut. The room was dark and you fumbled to your knees. Something brushed against your neck. A cobweb? You brushed it away. It brushed against your hair, heavier than cobweb. You froze. There was no sound at all but you could feel that hammer in your chest and in your ears. And that smell. Not sweet. Not disinfectant. Not pleasant nor unpleasant. You moved away from the door and felt for the torch. The dim beam showed some big square boxes. A trunk. Gingerly you moved the beam towards the door. The light dimmed even more. Fear prevented you from shouting. Shock blocked your scream. There was the old woman hanging on the door.
Whimpering, you could barely make her out, marooned as she was on the hook. And she seemed to have no legs, no feet, no hands. But sleeves dangled. As you moved your ever fading beam upwards, you saw furry dark where her face should be. Nothing moved but what was that around her neck? Sharp eyes, a snout and a snarling, silent mouth. A swirl of fur around her shoulders. Still nothing moved. You reached the light forward and saw a cat. Dead. And a red coat. A fur hat. But the cat. You looked closer and saw not a cat. Something else. Not moving. Dead. And that smell.
You tugged and wrenched and yanked to get the door open. Looked back and pulled it closed behind you. Your light blinked to darkness, left an acid choke in the back of your throat.

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