Ghostly Manor This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

A frigid gust of wind stung my face and grabbed the leaves, throwing them around, whipping and smashing them against the rocks and twigs that were lying next to my feet. A leaf smacked me in the face and covered my eyes for a split second. Secretly I wished that it could have stayed there, attached permanently so I didn’t have to gaze upon that house. I had been brought here strictly against my will. I have never liked things like this, things that you watch in horror movies, while you’re slouching in your seat and covering your eyes trying to imagine a happy place, Those things when you tell yourself “it isn’t real, it isn’t real.” But to my dismay it was all becoming too real.

As the leaves kept up their dance the scent of stale wood filled my nose and slithered threw me. I gagged as chills shot up and down my back like spiders crawling around frantically. It sent me over the edge and as much as I thought I could hold my composure, I couldn’t.

The ghostly mansion sat crooked on the land. It was worn, old with age, and full of hidden secrets from the past, above all though it fit perfectly like a hand in a glove with its surroundings. The creatures nearby loomed over the possessed building, sinisterly laughing in the howling wind. Within their elongated shadows my knees shook and my eyes closed, I was scared as hell. They were tall and slender, shark and dark. Their bodies packed close together as to make sure no one could escape. I was surrounded.

There were no lights on in that house, no sign of human life, and no abrupt movements. There was only a lonely creek of a broken step every so often shrieking out into the night like a dying crow.

In little glances I could create an image of the manor in my head, I didn’t really want to stare at it for that long. It had a peculiar structure, an elongated “U” shape lined with nailed up windows. Even the image in my head made me cringe. I wanted to be strong, I wanted to look tough, like I wasn’t afraid of what was living in there.

For some reason the front door was cracked open, calling our names like a witch luring children into her dangerous trap. I didn’t want to go closer; I didn’t want to be lured into any traps. All I wanted to do was run, and run fast the other way back over the hills, and up the many ditches we had trudged through to get here.

Out of nowhere I felt like a pair of arms shoved me towards the manor, the wind was picking up. Leaves now a small but powerful hurricane around me, I stood blankly in the presence of hell. Stiff as a board nailed into place I couldn’t move. I was trapped in a nightmare, a pure horror I thought I’d never have to live through. The manor tattered, burned and ark like it was born and raised in hell starred down at me.

Blinking in disbelief I dropped to the ground and held my head. I was covered in dirt, leave and grass; a suit of armor but a feeble suit of armor. Tears started to rush down my cheeks like an overflowing stream. The horror that the mansion had instilled in me was deadly. My breathing heavy now like my last breathe was drawing near.

My head lifted to confront the house of hell and it all happened in that moment. I could feel a pair of beady eyes watching me. There was a window, just one uncovered window above the opened front door. It sat there undisturbed and out of reach. It was circular and aged just like the house. Faded with time and full of cobwebs the window held the secrets. Something was up there, watching and waiting for me to make a move, I was being observed as I lied limp, and hunched over, motionless and vulnerable on the doorsteps of hell…immobile. Like a ghost emerging out of thin air I saw it, up in the window, the window faded with time.





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