The Old House

The Daily Slice Horror Contest

Today’s Prompt 9/2/11 – it goes dark and there is a scratching noise behind you---




Lights flickered on and off as I made my way down the stairs, sometimes having to search for the step’s end.

All I need now is to fall and break my neck in this old place, especially a deserted house in the middle of nowhere.  Suddenly, I froze on the stairs. It had not occurred to me before that moment, but why were lights flickering in this old house?  This was not an abandoned house as I had presumed. Seeing it from the road, with the run down look of a dump, I assumed it was a great place to try out my new ghost hunting kit.

Now, I’ll probably be arrested, or murdered by the occupants who think I’m a thief. I’ve got to get out of here.  The lights went off at that moment and in the pitch blackness around me I knew it was there before I heard it. I felt it.  There was an eerie cold filtering throughout the house.

Just three more steps. I gingerly feel my way down each one of them until I hit the hardwood floors of the entrance.  The cold swept around me as though I had pierced the plastic strung entrance to a freezer. Where was the door? I couldn’t remember if it were straight in front of me, or perhaps I had to turn to the right, no; there was another small step down to the entrance.

I heard the stairs behind me creak. A scratching sound slid down the wall ripping the paper from its bindings. It was too dark to see an image, a shadow, or any form, not even my hand would pierce that blackness. The windows are boarded.  That’s why it is so black in here that was one of the drawing points when I saw this house. It looked abandon. Perhaps it is and my imagination is playing tricks with me.

The cold closed in on me. The scratching of the wallpaper grew louder and closer as I frantically searched for the last step down to the door. A breath touched my ear and I spun to meet it, instinctively stepping back from the attack. My foot finally found that last step and I plunged onto the tiled forum. I pulled at the door as the thing on the stairs lunged forward catching my ankle and holding me tight.

Were they fingers, or claws that now dug into my flesh? I screamed. Kicking against the tight hold on my ankle, I freed myself long enough to burst from the house.

In the car at last, I locked the doors and fumbled for the keys. My hands trembled, my breath was raspy and difficult, my heart pounding above the screams. I was still screaming.

I pulled the headlights on catching a figure behind the door. It peered around the opened panels just for a moment. It was there, and I saw it, and then it was gone.

I finally found the keys and pushed them into the ignition. My heart slowed, my breathing returned, and body warmth filtered back-- all as I turned the car to leave.  I did not look in the rearview.  I knew it was there watching.

I passed another car pulling up the driveway and glanced over at the station wagon filled with college –aged- thrill seekers. I guess I missed the entrance sign. Welcome to the most haunted attraction in the country.

wc -575