Snippet #2179372

Freddie had to get a lift from his father, who dropped him off a few miles away, nagging him about being more independent. Freddie had then caught the bus, oh how much he despised public buses. They always smelt a little strange and he always felt the way in which people watched him with disapproving eyes. In his hand was an object that resembled a large briefcase, only it wasn't for business documents and it was hardly ordinary to see somebody his age with a briefcase for business. His father had even said goodbye in a worried tone, reminding him to call him if there was any trouble. It was as if his father was sure that this was the last time that they'd see each other. If he knows something bad would happen, why would he send me? Freddie thought, pondering as the bus came to a halt to drop off an old couple. Behind him, two teenagers were grinning and making jokes about everyone on the bus. It was like the journey he used to take to school before he asked his dad to drive him in.

The bus dropped him off at the side of the road somewhere, Freddie clutched the case that held all of his equipment. "Dad will be so proud once I come back with the ghosts," he smiled to himself, feeling his excitement get the better of him. Freddie began to walk down the road, dreaming about what would happen when he returned victorious.

Soon enough, Freddie found himself staring blankly at Droyt Manor, amazed by what he was looking at.