Nothing, but you feel a presence (Ghost)

After the slight rumbling and laughter died down you found your house to be oddly still, devoid of any sound to speak of. The creaking in the floorboards, the groaning of the walls, the hiss from the boiler, not even the branches were tapping on the windows of your home. Only dead silence was left in the Manor and that was the most unnerving noise there could have been, or a lack of there of. Your home was never quiet, it was always making noises and you had become accustomed to the background sounds.

Odd. Shrugging you turned your attention to the bowl of candy set on one of your kitchen chairs and you grabbed a handful of sweets. Though kids rarely worked up the courage to trick or treat at your Manor it paid to be prepared. Eggs were a bitch to wash off and the trees were the ideal type to TP. Just as you were about to pop in a gum ball you felt a chill run down your spine and you ceased moving entirely, eyes wide and your mouth still partially open.

This was a feeling you've felt before, many years ago. You were visiting your Uncle's home and he had just returned from another one of his global journeies. Old as he was that man was unstoppable until the day he died. He had enlisted you to aid him in bringing in his latest finds, giddy with excitement to add new additions to his collection. Wheeling in a crate, he opened it for you and inside sat a decorative urn. The sight of it caused your body to shake, goosebumps forming across your arms and legs. Your Uncle explained he acquired the urn from an expedition and it was Sumarean in origin. He trusted you to carry it to its pedestal, and though you did the cold you felt from it lingered in your mind for many years.

The same chill was back and you dropped the handful of candy to rush down the hall. You had to know.

Sliding into the pottery room you quickly scanned the numerous stands, cases, and pedestals in search of the urn. Landing on the small column it's stood on for over a decade you found the marbel to be bare and a pit formed in your stomach. You flicked on a nearby light switch and you could see the urn in pieces, having fallen and shattered upon the dark hardwood floor. You were too distracted to notice none of the other pots and vases in the room were untouched, too focused on the urn that chilled you to the bone all those years ago.