ROB

I LOOKED OUT THROUGH the broken window, trying to figure out what that noise was. It was at least five miles to the nearest town, too far for anyone to be out here walking at this time of night. All I could see was darkness. Then a hint of movement amongst the trees.

Was it Anthony trying to trick me out of winning our bet? My business partner was a good guy but I wouldn't have put it past him to bend the rules in order to win. It wasn't going to work though. I wasn't going anywhere.

All I had to do was spend the night in this abandoned house that Anthony had sworn was haunted. It was just one of countless stupid bets we'd made over the years. When you're rich, you get bored easily. If I lasted the night without my car or my phone, I'd win the grand sum of one pound, the traditional amount.

He'd picked me up from the car park in town. My car and phone were waiting there for me. "Best way to be sure," he'd said as he'd driven me towards the sunset. "You definitely up for this? A night without your precious phone?"

Of course I was. It was the easiest bet we'd ever made. I was settled in with a book, a lantern, and a blanket. The sun had vanished and I was alone in the dark. Just me, the surrounding woods and the creaks and groans of the old house.

The house itself had looked a little bit spooky when we'd approached it but nothing I couldn't handle.

It had been built a couple of hundred years ago. The roof was still on but most of the glass in the windows was gone, hence the need for the pure wool blanket wrapped around my shoulders. It was perhaps a gamekeeper's cottage or a Victorian shooting lodge. The brickwork was crumbling but you could tell it had once had an expansive garden as the grass outside was thick only with weeds, not trees.

The woodland was held back by a dry stone wall that had fallen into heaps in several places, brambles crisscrossing the remaining stonework. As I climbed out of the car and stood next to Anthony, looking at the house, he passed me the night's entertainment.

"The novelisation of Ghost," I said. "Very funny."

"Well you're staying in a haunted house, right?"

"So I want to read a romance? You know I don't like romance, in books or in real life."

"You never know, you might pick up some tips."

I frowned in mock anger. "Are you telling me I need help with my technique?"

He laughed. "You're not exactly Mr Romance, are you? How many women did you screw at the last work do?"

"I worship women, Anthony. Every single one of them."

"Yes but not for very long, that’s the problem. You got through three in an hour."

"What can I say? I like to keep busy."

He shoved a blanket and lantern into my hand. "Get busy with those."

"A lantern? Not a torch? What is this, 1852?"

"Thought it would fit the mood of the place. You're lucky I didn't just give you a candle."

"Remind me why I'm doing this," I said as I looked down at my meagre belongings.

"Because you hate losing bets?"

"Oh yeah, that's it." I grinned and turned away from him to push open the front door. It squealed in protest, almost falling from the hinges. "Make sure the car's here on time in the morning. I'll have to play catch up since I don't have my phone with me."

"Eight o'clock sharp," he replied, climbing back into the car. "If you're still alive of course."

He drove off whilst the echoes of his dramatic evil laugh faded away. I watched him go before heading inside. A night off from work. I should be grateful. I'd not had one for months. But this was why. I felt guilty whenever I stepped away, knowing how much they needed me. It's weird, no matter how big my empire grew, no matter how many staff I hired, I seemed more vital, rather than less. It was infuriating.

I chose what was once a living room. The wallpaper was peeling but the smell of mould wasn't too bad. The floor was clean enough, just a few damp patches with moss gradually spreading. In the corner by the fireplace, I settled in and began to read. The only contraband I'd brought was a flask of boiling water, enough to make a coffee in the morning. I wouldn't be able to function without it. The coffee was kept separate in a metal tin, ready to use. If I made it now, it'd be foul come the next day.

By the time I was a couple of chapters into the book I was already getting bored. It's surprising how much you take your phone for granted until it's taken away from you. Work emails were probably piling up by the dozen.

When you run an empire, you can't just stop. I'd have a lot of catching up to do in the morning.

It was about ten when I heard the noise for the first time. It wasn't like the creaks and groans of the old house, nor was it the wind in the trees. This was something different.

I sat up and listened but I couldn't hear anything anymore. Then the snap of a twig outside and I knew there was definitely something there. I picked up the lantern, peering out into the gloom. "If that's the best you can do," I shouted, expecting Anthony to walk into the light, "it's not going to work. I'm four for zero this month."

I had no intention of giving up my winning streak over a twig snapping. But then I heard something else. There was someone panting. Another twig snap and then a rustling sound in the distance, growing louder.

I put the lantern down, throwing the blanket over it to kill the light. I got the sudden feeling it wasn’t Anthony. And that I shouldn’t let myself be seen.

I moved across the room to the other window, the floorboards creaking under my feet. When I looked out again, I squinted, peering into the thick blackness, the trees barely visible as the moon vanished behind a cloud.

Then I saw her. At first she was nothing but a blur amongst the trees but as my eyes adjusted better to the dark, I saw her emerge into the clearing between the wood and the house. She was sprinting as if the hounds of hell were chasing her.

The ground was overgrown with weeds and she stumbled, falling heavily but still trying to move forwards. She was up a second later, almost falling again as she staggered on. Her head lifted and I got my first proper look at her.

She had long hair that flew back behind her as she tried to run. Her dress was torn, revealing flashes of her chest and cuts on her legs as she approached the door of the house, glancing behind her every other second.

I ran around to the door just as it crashed open. She tripped over the step, stumbling into my arms, her wild eyes staring up at me. "Help me," she said, her voice strained with fear. "They're coming."