Hello again, Story Club members.

I'm Ivy, your ghostly host with the most and keeper of the strangest,

spookiest tales on earth.

Today is another Ivy's chilling tale.

This tale story club members goes out to my beloved listener, Elliot in Mesa, Arizona,

who at only eight years old has come up with a terrifying tale for all of us to enjoy today.

It's a tale that Elliot and I call the Ghost of John.

Johnny lived in Manhattan, the epicenter of New York City where skyscrapers

kissed the sky and the streets never slept. At just eight years old, Johnny's world was already

a vibrant tapestry of honking taxis, flashing neon signs, and the perpetual rhythm of urban life.

But one sunny morning, his parents announced a decision that turned Johnny's exciting, nonstop,

action-packed world upside down. They were moving to Arizona.

Ugh, Johnny thought. The journey from New York to Arizona seemed endless as Johnny's family drove across the United States, 2,330 miles.

Johnny fidgeted throughout the 36-hour journey, wishing he could get out and run around more.

New York City's dense urban jungle gave way

to vast, open deserts, stretching as far as the eye could see. When they finally arrived at their

new home, Johnny felt totally deflated. And it wasn't just the exhaustion from his epic road trip.

It was the actual house itself that gave him the blues.

It was an old Victorian-style home, its walls weathered by time, and its windows clouded with the dust of forgotten years.

Could someone develop allergies at eight years old, Johnny wondered?

Ugh, this place was certainly going to put his nose to the test he thought with a sneeze.

A-choo! Which sent a spider flying from a nearby cobweb.

...