His house.

His house, illuminated by the light casted by the moon stood out in the dense shroud of trees. The sounds of urks and ahhs that came from the building entreated me. They greeted me. I was invited, just like all the children in the village. The night was cold and the air was thick with anticipation. The house, his house was wrath with it. I wanted to go inside, everybody did. The house drew us all in. The crowd of children, all marching to the doorstep of his mysterious house must of delighted him. The owner of a house the had tickled our intrigue. Finally we, united were on his front lawn. We chanted and sang for the owner to greet us and then invite us into his abode. Suddenly the door of the house flew open and the mans trenchcoat engulfed us in darkness. There was forever silence.