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The old Morales house remained intact, though no one had seen it for years. The whole town avoided it, for there were rumours of shadows in the windows and disturbing murmurs inside.
Lucas, a sceptical young man, decided to face these rumours for once. That autumn night, he pushed open the rickety door, which creaked protesting his entrance. The lantern dimly illuminated the room, covered with dust and cobwebs.
Suddenly, its light caught a movement in the background. Luke held his breath as a cold sweat broke out on his back. He moved slowly forward, pushing the shadows away with the beam of light... until he was petrified.
There, in the corner, was the skeleton of a small boy sitting in a rocking chair. Most chillingly, one of his bony hands was swinging back and forth, as if someone invisible was rocking him.
An echo of childish laughter filled the room. Lucas stormed out, vowing never again to question the old legends of the village. The Morales house hid secrets that were best left undiscovered.