The haunted castle loomed in the fog like a malevolent dragon, its empty windows seeming to watch the ghost hunters’ approach with disdain.
They parked the van in the front courtyard and started lugging in the detection equipment. “The British government is only giving us the night, so everybody stay alert,” Devon said, hoisting a EMF reader and nearly tripping over a sign for the gift shop.
As the night wore on, they combed through the drafty halls, finding nothing. The ghosts huddled in distant rooms, waiting for them to leave, and complaining to one another about ‘the boorish colonials.’

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