The screams and angry shouting of unintelligible words filled the upstairs.
I flung open the door and flipped the lights on. It seemed like eons since I saw it's chambers illumintated. I hurried down the stairs and moved to my right. As the sounds of violence echoed through the house I prayed I was right.
As I reached the wall I saw the shovel behind some old wrought iron railings. I took it both hands like a bat and planted my feet. I swung it into the wall. The hollow clanging noise I'd become so familiar with rang out.
The commotion upstairs stopped. I swung again, harder. My ears and hands both were stung by the blow. Bits of the concrete pelted my face. I was rewarded by the sight of new, clean wood in the crack.
The light started to die. It was coming. And I think in this situation it would be willing to take it's chances with facing me in the spirit world.
I swung again, putting all my weight into it. A trickle of blood started down my face where flying concrete fragments cut it. The sound of wood cracking mixed in with the metallic clash. I swung again, harder. The chamber rang with the impact. The last thing I saw was the handle if the shovel with a split a quarter of it's length. The light was gone. The door slammed shut. Something black and cold rushed unseen down the steps.
I swung at the unseen wall grinning like a cossack.
In upstate New York a house stands watching over a summer vacation paradise. Boaters race the length of the lake while small groups of bathers dot it's shore. Anglers cast their lines and test their skills against the fish. The air is clean and scented with pine.
In the basement of the house two Sheriffs Deputies and the county medical examiner expose the skeletal remains of a young women, victim of a grisly murder committed long ago.
The Deputies are finishing up questioning of the young man who discovered the body while doing repairs at the summer home. The officer in charge notices the pieces of a newly split shovel on the dirt floor. As the young man is leaving he nudges the pieces with his foot and calls out. 'What's this?' The young man turns and regards the object with a glint of triumph. 'Nothing' he replies 'Just a broken shovel.'