You think about being hunted in a strange land. Enemies all around you as you helplessly try to escape. Fear grips you and your stomach turns with anxiety.

"I did not think I could feel bad for those golden buckets," one of your friends says. "If that story is half true, no one deserves that fate."

You breathe easier as you lean back into your chair and take in the calm atmosphere around you. The dim light makes you notice that you are starting to get tired, but you wish to hear a few more tales before you call it a night.

Stolen story; please report.

"These tales have been great," another friend stands and raises a mug to the storytellers. "I would, however, wish for us to have one that is not filled with action. I wish for a tale that is only meant to give you chills."

"And what kind of story is that?"

"The oldest one of all, a ghost story."