And that night, as Fiona slept, once again - she was back at the old house on Richmond Street. Above her, dark clouds trembled with the sound of thunder, a cold wind sweeping in from somewhere she didn't know, picking up dead leaves, an owl tooting...
One final word — on a cold, dark winter night when the hour had struck three in the morning, the demonic hour.
Pandemonium — struck the quiet hours, voices yelling, children screaming.
'Come on, for fuck's sake! Get in the car! Hurry up.'
A neighbour, woken up by the commotion, had whispered. 'Sweet Jesus!' Under her breath because in all her sixty years, she had never heard voices so terrified.
The woman had a fair idea who it might be, that family who had moved into the house across the street.
And wanting to prove that theory, she got out of bed, went to the window, and there she saw that family, good people who had moved into the house; three months ago, fleeing in terror.
They only had a few items with them - one of those suitcases that had wheels on them, a bundle of clothes, and some blankets.
'Come on, hurry up!'
It was the man of the family; who was doing all the speaking, urging his family into the car.
He kept looking over his shoulder, up at the bedroom window. The man looked terrified. So did his family, deathly pale.
It would be a scene the neighbour would never forget as the car sped away, escaping from that terrible house on Richmond Street.
Where once, there lived a creepy old man, but the devil was now gone, yet the horrors still remained in that house.
54 Richmond Street would always be a bad place.
Neighbours living on the same street would always know that, and in time, everyone would wait for the next victim to come along.
They could warn the people moving into the house; it was haunted, but who would believe such nonsense?
So everyone kept their mouths shut.
And sometimes, these same people would hear screaming when the house stood empty.
Terrible screaming.
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