I gripped the handle of the pocket knife tightly, as I walked through the abandoned mansion.

A dare given to me, a dare that could very possibly kill me. I had to do it; I always do my dare, no matter how life threatening. But, I had brought my pocket knife, just in case.

All I had to do was find a key, that was supposed to fit in the palm of my hand ever-so faultlessly, so perfectly, that it felt like a dream. It's said that if handled correctly, the key can open any lock to anything.

But, I've heard that there's an old man that guards that key, and would actually murder anyone who tried to take it.

I walked up the flight of stairs, listening to the creaking sound it made as my feet touched the steps.

Once I reached the top, there was a tempting door, waiting for me to open it. I laid my hand gently on the crystal knob, turning it slowly.

I stepped in.

The door slammed shut and I turned around, put my hand on the knob, turned it.

But it was locked.

I kept trying; it wouldn't budge.

The back of my neck tickled as I felt a hot breathing upon it.

The lights switched on, and my eyes started to adjust.

"So. You tried to find the key," A raspy voice says.

"Well, yeah but-"

"Don't try to explain." A younger voice says.

My eyes are adjusted now, and I see at least ten more teens my age here.

"How do I get out of here?" I ask.

The old man with the raspy voice answers, "You need the key to get out, dear."