Archie sighed and closed his computer, glaring at the hall clock he opened his front door with an annoyed snatch. Who could be knocking on his door, at nearly midnight?

His gasp, blink, and mouth dropping open married into his astonished stagger back.

A coffin shadowed his entrance!

With an ominous creak the lid slowly opened.

Archie backed away. From the bowels of the casket, a voice, dripping death, poured towards him.

“Room for one inside sir…” The clock in his hallway chimed midnight.

A shiver down his spine rattled both his brain and his bottom but his slow move away was halted with a start – the lid of the coffin banged furiously shut.

He watched, with eye-popping terror, as the coffin crossed his threshold and glided towards him.

Through his sitting room, and across the kitchen the coffin followed. The front door crashed shut as he approached, his fingers ineffectively scrabbling on the sealed door.

The stairs! Caskets cannot climb stairs! He raced upwards, turning to watch, but backed away further as the banisters rattled, slowly the casket hauled itself towards him.

Flying into the bathroom, he locked the door and sat shaking on the toilet, wishing he had put the seat down first.

The door crashed open, the casket loomed over him.

A weapon! He needed a weapon!

But the bathroom cabinet had been fixed firmly to the wall by his Polish plumber.

His hand scrabbled inside as the coffin approached, the lid now swinging open towards him. Grabbing the large bottle of cough syrup in the cabinet he hurled it into the coffin.

And the coffin stopped.

I typed the tag in 8pt because I am so ashamed of it.