aka 'Mr. King Size'
I gave the matchbox pride of place in the centre of my mantlelpiece, just next to a picture of my mother. There it stayed for the next two months until one fateful night, when the box's true nature was revealed to me.
The memory of that night is still fresh in my mind. I had just settled down next to the fire to read a book, when I was startled by a crashing sound. I looked around to discover my mother's picture lying broken on the floor.
I glanced up at the mantlepiece and found that the matchbox now occupied the space where my mother's picture had sat just seconds earlier. Had the matchbox moved of it's own accord?
My question was answered almost immediately, for right before my eyes, the matchbox started hopping across the mantelpiece. I knew there was only one thing small enough that could achieve such a feat.. My uncle's flea.
I grabbed the matchbox and slid it open, but there was no flea. The matchbox was empty, just as it had been when I first placed it on the mantlepiece.
Could it be? Could this matchbox be haunted by the spirit of my uncle's last flea?
I locked the matchbox in a drawer in my study and resolved to get some sleep. I could hear the box hopping inside the drawer as I left the study and climbed the stairs to my bedroom.
It took over an hour for sleep to take hold as my thoughts were plagued with the image of the matchbox hopping along the mantlepiece. My slumber would not last long.
I was awoken by a sound that resembled someone or something walking up the stairs. The steps continued up the stairs and stopped outside my bedroom door. There was then a knock at my door and a shiver ran down my spine.
Courage took hold of me and I lept from my bed and unlocked the door. I wildly flung open the door and at first glance saw nothing. However, as my gaze dropped to the floor, I was horrified to see the matchbox I had locked in my study now lying in front of my feet.
I was now determined to discover the secret of the haunted matchbox!
To be concluded...