Skander, a little confused as to what exactly was going on, opened his mouth, and waited for the light to start streaming out like a hurricane. To be trite, the light never came.
The ghost smiled. "Sooooo," he said, viciously, once again reaching for his knife, "still trying to me out?" He advanced upon Skander, raising the blade higher in the air.
Skander backed up until he felt the wall against him. He was cornered by this evil character before him, ready to kill him for ownership of the room. Skander kept flashing his pearly-whites at the ghost; constantly smiling, then closing, smiling, then closing.
"What's the matter kid," came that voice, "got a twitch?" He laughed bitterly, and stabbed at him. Skander raised his arm to defend himself, and, after a few seconds of silence, and hidden eyes, found that there was no pain, as was expected. Instead, as Skander found as he raised his head to view the circumstance, the ghost had turned to stone; pure, physical, touchable stone.
"No way," Skander whispered in awe, "no way..."
He stood, and looked upon the stone statue that was taking up room in, what is now officially, his room.