Sylvie bought her historic New England-style saltbox house for a major bargain last summer, thanks to what she calls the “ghost discount”.
She knew about decades-long hauntings, sightings, exorcisms. A storied past. After one final exorcism before move-in day, she felt comfortable, mostly.
Her subtle unease grows when a tattered, faded postcard arrives in the mail amidst moody November winds.
Dear Miss, it reads. Could you kindly unlatch the cellar door?
Confused, Sylvie doesn't recall having a cellar. Looking around, racking her brain, she notices one small mound in the backyard.
Digging down... Clink!
She hits iron, wood. A door.
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