“Let’s go down that street,” said Fawn, pointing down the street.
Spot took a look down the street Fawn was pointing at. The street was dark and gloomy looking. Spot couldn’t see any trick-or-treaters down the street.
“I don’t think so,” said Spot. “It doesn’t look safe.”
Spot turned around to see Fawn only to find out he wasn’t beside her any longer. Spot looked up the dreary street and saw Fawn walking half-way up it.
“Fawn,” called Spot. “Come back.”
It was too late. Fawn could not hear Spot. Spot gulped a big breath of air and started down the street after her friend. Spot noticed a sign at the corner of the street that said Willow Lane. Something about that street name gave Spot shivers right up her spine. Something bothered her about that street but she couldn’t put a finger on it.
Spot continued up the street. She saw Fawn standing on a front lawn of a very spooky house. Spot went up to him and he nearly had a heart attack when she tapped his shoulder lightly.
“Come on, Fawn,” said Spot. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Good idea,” said Fawn. “This street is spooky. It actually has been spooky ever since that murder a few years back.”
“That’s it!” exclaimed Spot. “That was the Willow Lane murder. I remember now. I knew there was something spooky about this street. I just couldn’t remember what it was.”
Fawn and Spot ran down Willow Lane as fast as they could go. Jus t when they turned the corner they saw a flash of light and they both swore they saw a shadow of a man with an axe raised above his arms.
Fawn and Spot never spoke of that night ever. They were both terrified of they had seen and if anyone ever spoke about the murder on Willow Lane, they quickly changed the subject.