Old Scratch, skittering along the base boards, hiding in the walls, tapping on the windows; he'll never allow peace in your cold halls.

The Bell Witch was a scratcher of both skin and soul. Poor John Bell never had peace until he died and even then the witch was still scratching, scratching. She never stopped at all.

Schratz, skrattu, ice demon; that's who you call when the planchette glides over the face of the spirit board. Be careful what you wish for, be careful what you say. Summon Old Scratch but once and he's going to be here to stay.