After a deep external search of the residence, Inspector Clackson found no evidence of any spectral tampering, but upon further insight, he noticed the doors were in fact, unlocked. The rusted wooden doors, that were painted a faded green crept opened as Clackson twisted and pushed towards the bronze knob. The dust flew across the room, onto the decrepit windows caked with soot and once crystal-clear marble staircase. After activating his torch, he scaled up the stairs, not trying to make any noises to disturb the dead. When he had reached the peak, he entered the study to hear scratching at the door, leading into the washroom. A deafening scream erupted as the scratching continued. Frightened to bits, the once brave inspector raced down the slope, and headed for the door. The carpet below him started to move and as he stepped he slipped on the moving rug. The rug squealed and only frightened poor Clackson more. He shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief.