The creaking sounds of the old hardwood floor made themselves apparent quite often this night. The longest seven minutes of my life. The most torturous seven minutes of my life. I never expected myself to be caught up in such plain horror. Call it supernatural, trepidating...paranormal. There’s this saying “Demons are like obedient dogs; they come when they are called.” What happens when those demons are unexpected guests? Flashback I let out a small sneeze. The grass of the hills, obviously. I should’ve figured it out when Ramona told me about “a creepy manor on the top of a hill.” I didn’t believe her, since Ramona is the type of person to exaggerate every single thing that crosses her mind. But this time, I admit, she was right. A cold shudder trickled down my spine at the very sight of it. The cold autumn air enveloped my body. I couldn’t move. I felt something take over me as I was standing there...not being able to take my eyes off this house which tortured me. It was almost as if...I was being forced - “Jim! Come on, everybody’s already in the house.” I took in a deep breath as I came back to my senses, looking over at the manor. Weeds and dandelions poked out from the entrance stairway cracks. Red roses had wildly grown in thick batches by the ruined porch. The house’s walls were black. Which showed that there was neither love, nor attention had been showed towards it in the past couple of years. As I walked in the house, a sensation hit me deep in my chest. As if...as if I’ve been in this place before. But if I had been here before, why don’t I remember it? “Oh boy, isn’t there a maid who comes dusting in here?” Julian called out while going through multiple drawers like a nosy guest who barges in your house at an unexpected hour for a casual cup of tea. The house gave me a tremendously eerie feeling. As if there was something or someone that was calling me in it. Almost like I was in here for a reason. “Hey, you lot! Come on here, look what I found!” Ramona said as her voice echoed through the dark corridors. I started following the direction from which her voice came, only to end up in a majestically grand library. It was terrible, the state the library was in. But funnily enough, my eyes didn’t find Ramona anywhere in the whole room. It’s impossible, I thought to myself. I looked around the room, analyzing the objects in it at the same time, trying to find any sign of Ramona. I looked down at the ground, and saw a very old book, fallen carelessly on the ground. I furrowed my eyebrows, reaching down and picking it up. By the state the book was in, you would think that it went through rough times. Weird thought about a book, I know. My eyes started wandering around the pages of the dark book, before landing on this story... but to my surprise, it wasn’t a story. It was a letter which read, “The world is a dangerous place to live, not because of the people who are in it, but because of the people who don’t do anything about it.” The world indeed is a dangerous place. The person I trusted the most in my life, thought my back was butter and grazed the knife in it and over it, again and again. Without me even noticing it one bit. I was blinded by my faith in him. I followed him because of his humble eyes, his small smile, and his terrified soul. But all he did, was betray me. I promise to whoever is reading this letter...I will always be here. You dared step inside my house. You are going to pay. With your soul, or your life. I will be right there. In the cellar down the stairs. Behind the iron doors. Waiting to hear your footsteps. Something came over me. I didn’t know what. A rush of incomprehension flew high over me, it was as if I got this adrenaline pumping hard through my veins, telling me desperately to go down the stairs. I took small steps, as if I was walking to a funeral. But it felt different. As if it was my funeral. The floorboards creaked under every step I took. My brain was crying out to stop whatever I was doing. But my heart forced me to take a few steps further. My heart was beating at the speed of light, but it started beating even more when I saw the iron door. The smell of the place was all rust. I approached the iron cell slowly. My glance fell down towards the lock, just to see, there was no lock. My hand shivered, reaching over and pushing the door open, only to be welcomed by pitch-black darkness and total silence.
The only thing I could spot in the room, was a body. A pale body, dressed all in white with tar black straight hair. A woman. The only source of light was a discreet candle near her. It was a terrifying sight. It looked as if she was dangerous enough to kill you brutally, but weak enough that she had no source of love. Nobody to care for her. She was a type of person, who would scare you but make you pity her. I took out the flashlight in the back of my pocket, and pointed it straight at her. I gasped in horror, her face was smiling and her eyes were all white, no pupils. She was grinning really wide, as my heartbeat accelerated. Before I knew it, I felt a razor-sharp pang hit right in my chest. I heard screams coming from upstairs, along with a vision of a violent massacre as the pain in my chest increased. And that was the end. My end.
Fiction // Short Story Ishani 2de 5 - 15 ans. Lycﾃｩe ﾃ四e de Nantes Professeur: Marie-Hﾃｩlﾃｨne Fasquel.