It's raining, it's pouring
Hazel stayed close to Frank near the front door, ready to bolt out at any second. She hated haunted houses. "Do you think they're almost ready to go?"
The old man is snoring
"Hopefully." Frank looked around nervously. "Why'd you agree to come if you didn't want to? We could have gotten dinner."
She shrugged as she heard some footsteps approaching. "Hopefully that's them."
He went to bed and he bumped his head
What they saw wasn't their friends. It wasn't anything human. Both took off running but didn't think to run towards the door. Frank tripped and knocked his head against something hard.
And couldn't get up in the morning.
"Frank!" she kneeled beside him despite her fear. There was too much blood. His eyes wouldn't close. She called for Nico but he never came.
And couldn't get up in the morning.
The footsteps came again. Her hands shook with fear but she stayed beside Frank.
It's raining, it's pouring. Blood was everywhere.
It's raining, it's pouring. The footsteps stopped behind her. An angry ghost. A vengeful spirit.
It's raining, it's pouring. It took all the living it could. Including her.
It's raining, it's pouring. It's raining, it's pouring. It's raining, it's pouring. It's raining, it's pouring It's raining, it's pouringIt's raining, it's pouringIt's raining, it's pouringIt's raining, it's pouringIt's raining, it's pouringIt's raining, it's pouringIt's raining, it's pouring
Her blood poured into the floorboards.