The abandoned house on Lincoln Lane had always terrified the town. People swore they could hear it laugh. Sam, however, wasn’t scared. When his friends dared him to enter it, he accepted. Sam navigated the labyrinth of rooms and he became aware of a presence in the dark and decay.
He didn’t feel the urge to scream or run; instead, he felt the need to laugh. A mild chuckle soon grew to uncontrollable roaring laughter. His throat throbbed; his nose bled. Sam drew his pocketknife and decided he would stay here forever. The house added another laugh to its chorus.