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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2080151-Chapter-3---The-manor-house
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Horror/Scary · #2080151
Entering the house
CHAPTER 3





I approached the house. I was determined to get in the house The occupants of the other houses looked out at me. Walked down the street with the duffle bag on my shoulder. They quickly closed their curtains. As if I was the devil incarnate. On the occasion, I saw the curtains part and then quickly as they opened. They closed.. It was like they were petrified by me going down the street,







The house's painted surface, I could see was chipped and pieces fell off of the walls. Having rotten wood dangling from the banister and the trim of the banister. The stairway was a high mass, the vines looked as though they were serpents.







My feet were very well used to gain my way up these stairs. The vines cracked and burst beneath them. I sank half a foot into them. There had come a sickening stench that filled my nose with its scent. It smelled. No, it reeked of disgusting aroma. The plants were torn loose from the stairway. It was as though I had walked into a net was thrown by a gladiator to impede his prey. My feet slipped, in the ooze from the plants.







My hands clutched the wood of the banister. It crumbled and burst beneath my hands, I pulled my hand back and watched wood turn to dust and powder in my fingers. I knew I could ill afford to touch it. The wood was rotten with age and water damage. It stunk with decay.







The stairs ended at the top of the veranda. It was with the roof top, with circular columns. The vines were as if they were the web from a spider. Here it was waist high. Stepping through the plants that were there. The veranda was enclosed in a screen. The screen had kept out the vines from flourishing inside the chamber. I could not see through the screen as it was so dense.







I had to pull the door open. I found that it was almost impossible to open the door. The door w tight. The plants had grown there and made it harder than steel is dense to walk through the door.



I saw woman peeked out at me, as I walked up to the front of the door house. She was at the nearest house on my left. She had on a long black evening gown accented with pearl earrings. Her lips were as crimson as was her hair in the long elegant French braid. wiped her long opera gloved hands on her gown to ask,”What do you think? Are you doing there.







She startled me out of my wits, I must have jumped four feet straight up. When I returned the ground where I had been standing. She scared me witless. I looked over at her. She looked ravishing. I almost forgot about my quest. Then I realized where I was. 'She will not dare to go here, ' I thought.







At the front door to my house, and so I threw caution to the wind and said, “I am a Whately. My family owned or rather owns this house. Is it still listed under their name? That is why I am here.” I looked over the shoulder to see her. Standing there. Expectantly looking at me as though had offered her a T bone steak to eat instead to go inside the house.



.



“You are one of them?” she replied as she drew closer towards the yard I was in, she looked mystified and confused at my saying this. she stepped out onto the cobblestones to walk courageously towards me. She appeared not to be frightened. It was as if she had grown a backbone whereas everyone was afraid of me







“Yes, my family has owned this house. I looked at the books at the town hall to find out that we owned this house.” I replied as I lost my balance, dangled off of the veranda by the door. One of my shoes fell off to fall into the vines and grass that littered the floor of the yard.







She walked towards me, stumbling about in the field of grass and ivy to get to me. “I thought, no one was ever going to come here. The house has never had anyone there, since as long as I can remember, No one ever walked its floors.”







Helped me, to get to my feet. Holding me, by the arm to do this. She stopped me, from falling into the tangle of vines. She allowed me, to gain my footing on the stairs again. She looked at me with curiosity.







“We thought, that the family here was dead. There was a feeling that they were practicing, something that we did not desire to know. What they were doing?” she explained as I opened the door to the house, more easily.







The windows were small rectangles, set with the metal framework for the glass to remain there. It was in shadow. The veranda was wood, where portions of it had rotted away. The boards shuddered and shook with my weight falling upon them. They sent a tremor of fear into my soul.



I was fearful I would fall through the wood wrought floor as I gingerly stepped on them. I tested each board with my toes. The wood disintegrated beneath my weight. Each step I swore would be my last. Made it into the foyer, there hung on hooks cloaks of a bygone day.







I did not recognize the style of cloaks, and other boots that were there. It looked as though they were there for a long time. Spiders webs clung to them like a second coat to keep the cold out. The hallway was dark, darken that was shrouded in shadows from both the veranda and the doorway.







The walls made of wood, that looked warped by water damage. Some of the wood were very damaged with water. The wood was splintering and rotten with age.







The vines ran through and covered the floor, where the wood was not. The porch was eighty feet long, four feet wide. There was a swing set on it. The front door with a door knocker attached that looked as if it was a lion's head.







“How long has the house, been like this?” I asked, peering in the shrouded darkness to see what was before my eyes. Looking into the woman's eyes, she looked as though she wanted to comfort me.







“No one has ever been here. As I was telling you!” she said as she peered inside the shrouded veranda. Looking about as I imagined her to have been a mouse bristling with an air of curiosity.



The shadows made it difficult to see the floor, with the breakage in the wood. I cautiously walked into the veranda.







I gingerly stepped down on the small boards that made up the floor. They created and burst with the footfall. I nearly lost my balance as I moved down the veranda. I reached out to keep my balance like a tightrope walker. The boards have warped that burst and crunched my feet. I shivered with fear as it exploded beneath my feet. I imagined they were mines. I drew back as I inched forward into the veranda. The door had peeling and paint that fell as if it was rain. Upon my touching it







“Whately is my last name. So, I thought I would like to see my home in this country. Where I have come from. 'I answered.







She said, ”I have often wondered what it would peer like inside the house?” Her eyes were wide with fear, her voice trembled, with each word that tumbled out of her red lips. She struggled to breathe, as the fear grappled with her lungs and mind for air to be delivered to her body. She looked a little pale.







I looked at her, her apparel looked odd to me her hands were black gloves, and offered, ”You want to come inside?”







“If you would not mind?” she asked, as she took my hand in hers. She blushed.




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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2080151-Chapter-3---The-manor-house