Thursday, October 31, 2013


The house stands before you like a once grand gravestone, one withered by nature and neglect.
Creeping vines climb up from the ground, and appear to be trying to pull the house underground.  Nearly all of the windows are broken, the glass crunches under your shoes as you stare up at the door.

You have always been told that this door must remain closed.  Not to keep people out . . .

but to keep something in.

You take a step closer and all of the stories you have heard flood your mind.

Satanic ritual.

Probably just a rumor.  The wind blows dead leaves across the yard.  The stars seem to dim as you approach the front step.

Patricide.

A tragedy, but something that does happen and was explained by abuse and mental illness.  You flip the switch on your flashlight, the beam concentrates on the door handle.

Suicide.

No previous history of mental illness, and a rambling note that spoke of whispered voices coming from the attic, dark figures watching everything, and blood pouring out of faucets.  Extremely strange, but a sudden psychotic break has been known to happen.

Missing children.

Your hand grasps the handle and begins to open the door.

Missing pets.  Orbs.  A talking deer head trophy.

The silly stories give you small comfort while the door swings open with a creak.  All that comfort drops away as you stare inside.

The wood floors buckle and bend as if they can no longer contain all the bodies buried beneath.  There is a dark stain on the hand rail leading upstairs, it is smeared nearly the entire length of the rail.  What torn curtains remain shiver slightly, as if a hand has just brushed over them.

Your terror is great, but your curiosity is stronger.  You are compelled to step inside.  Maybe this will turn out to be nothing.  Maybe you will experience the supernatural and live to tell the tale.

Maybe you will never be heard from again.

Halfway up the stairs you hear the front door creak closed behind you.

Your body crawls with goosebumps.


*art by Ryan Hanson

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