The Black Heart Crypt

A giant black stallion came galloping up the road.

It pulled to a stop maybe ten feet in front of where Zack and Judy were parked. The horse snorted loudly, then sniffed the air.

“It must’ve lost its rider,” said Judy.

She climbed out of the car. Zack, too.

“Easy, boy,” said Judy. The sleek beast pawed at the pavement and swatted its plumed tail back and forth. Judy reached out for the reins.

The horse reared up on its hind legs and whinnied.

Judy jumped back.

Now the horse let loose a bloodcurdling scream and bolted for the side of the road, where it leapt over the guardrail like it was a hurdle in a show jumping ring.

Clearing the drainage ditch, it tore into the forest and galloped through a thick stand of evergreen trees.

Straight through them.

The tree trunks and branches and pine needles passed through its body as if the horse wasn’t even there.

“Um, Mom, is that a ghost horse?”

“Yeah,” said Judy. “I think so.”

“The Haddam Hill Cemetery is on the other side of those trees. Do you think one of those dead Ickleby guys misses his horse?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay,” said Zack. “Guess we better tell Aunt Ginny she’s gonna need one more, jumbo-sized sage candle.”