We all have that one story, don't we? The one you grow up thinking about, but never actually grow the balls to tell anyone. Well this is my story. I don't know what I'm hoping to accomplish by telling you. Maybe I'm looking for someone to tell me that I'm not insane, or maybe once I put it on paper it will...Hell, I don't know. Just someone read this...just please.
Let me give you a little background. Twenty years ago when I was eight years old, still living with my mom. My friend Dave and I decided that we would brave "The House". Now, The House was an abandoned two story home, that had been empty going on ten years, save for the occasional drug abuser that would sleep in it. However that's not what made this particular house special. The standing rumor is what made it interesting.
For as long as I can remember adults in my neighborhood had told us, the children, that it was haunted. I'm sure it was just their way of getting us not to play in it though. Regardless, because of that, the house had a sort of ominous aura that hung around it. Just looking at that decaying building would give you the shivers. Although despite our inherent fear of the place, Dave and I decided we would explore this house. We would become legends in our own right, at least that's what we hoped.
It was Tuesday all those years ago, well past midnight, and both of our parents had fallen asleep. The two of us decided we would sneak out, you know, use the night as our cover. We agreed it would be best to meet up in front of The House. Still, I wish we hadn't agreed to do it.
There I was...alone, waiting in front of The House for my friend. I couldn't help but feel small when I looked at it. It might have been old, and the wood may have been rotting, but man did it look enormous. I bet even adults felt dwarfed by it. To keep myself from chickening out, I decided to think about something else while I waited; it was a little cold that night, which was the typical weather after a hard rain.
"Ah, crap," I muttered, noticing the mud that covered my shoes. I should have paid more attention to where I was stepping.
"Mom is going to kill me when she..." my voice trailed off when I heard a dull thud from behind me. Sounded like someone knocked a door.
Was...was it the house, or was I just imagining things? I spun around expecting to see a hairy monster behind me, instead it was just The House; broken windows, splintered wood, and roof that had more than a few holes in it. Just the usual, nothing to panic about. I should have been relieved, but I found myself slightly shaken. Soon I would be stepping into one of the most feared places in our neighborhood. I wasn't even inside yet, and I could already feel the slight tremor in my hand.
Before I could reconsider the mission Dave arrived. I quickly stuffed my hands into my pockets to hide the quiver. I could see his small figure bouncing up and down. The little jokester was skipping across the street. My fears were immediately replaced with giddy laughter.
"You're such a clown," I managed to say in-between my giggles. We both reached out and shook hands, like his father had taught us. Luckily he didn't notice the tremor.
Dave used his hands to smooth back his black hair, kind of like a greaser would in a cliched movie.
"You ready for this?" He nodded towards the door.
Typical Dave, he always tried to look cool. Whether it be riding his bike with no hands, or sneaking into an abandoned house, he never failed to give off the "I'm a badass" vibe.
I tried my best to sound nonchalant, "Only if you are, Davey."
The comment awarded me a slight snicker. Dave hated it when I called him Davey. He said it sounded girly, and that's exactly why I used it. Rather than shoot a retort at me, he simply nudged me towards the house, and we began walking to the door. Our small feet made quiet echoes in the street, I was worried we might wake someone. If we had any doubts about what we were doing, that moment would have been the right time to bail out.
Of course, as per the norm, stupidity got the better of us. The second our feet hit the old steps, we knew there would be no turning back.
"Think we should knock?" Dave joked.
Seeing him act all cool somehow gave me courage, and so I knocked. What I heard made the hair on my neck stand at attention. The same thud I had heard from earlier reverberated through the door when my knuckles landed. I gulped loudly, but maintained an overall calm composure.
The two of us breathed in deeply, turned the door knob, and pushed the door open. We received a long drawn out creak as payment. I thought I was going to pee my pants, and Davey looked like he was about to shit a brick. Somehow we managed to keep our undies clean. It was dark, real dark. Neither one of had brought a flashlight, we didn't want to accidentally wake up a neighbor by shining a light in their house. Given the circumstances, we decided it was best to use moonlight.
Our eyes were met with a dimly lit house, it took a minute to adjust to. The house was littered with trash, covered in graffiti, and was seemingly falling apart all over. And yet it didn't seem as frightening as we were led to believe. Sure the darkness made it look spooky, but as I looked at the cracked marble floor, I couldn't help but be reminded of my house.
"Huh, this isn't so bad." It was me who broke the silence.
"Do you think the ghost will be pissed that we tracked mud in the house?"
Dave laughed and pointed at the floor. Little footprints followed us all over the house.
"Remind me to clean my shoes before I go back home."
I giggled at the thought. Here we are in the big spooky house, cracking jokes about muddy shoes. It was all fun and games. After familiarizing ourselves with the first floor - which consisted of an empty living room, a kitchen with rotted food in the cupboards, a bathroom with a disgusting toilet, and a curious looking locked door - we decided to explore the second floor.
We ascended the stairs together, Dave leading with his brave face on. The wooden stairs were old, much like the rest of the house, and each step left us wondering if it would collapse beneath us.
"Think the ghost is up there?" I asked, half sincere.
Dave chuckled at the question, "Ghosts probably aren't even real."
We had reached the end of the stairs, and were on the top floor. It wasn't a big second story. Two hallways, one to the right and one to the left. Four rooms for the two of us to explore.
"Let's go left," Dave suggested. So we went left, and into the first door on the right.
The door was already open, so we just peaked our heads in. The first thing I noticed was the hole in the roof. Moonlight was shining through it, and it gave us a faint light to survey the room with. It wasn't a very large room, actually it was kind of like my room. Probably big enough to have a bed, dresser, maybe a desk could fit in it too. We couldn't see inside of the closet though, the light didn't quite reach it. Dave looked at me, and I looked at him.
"I bet there's something cool in there. Let's go look," Dave suggested with a mischievous smile. Not sure what we were hoping for exactly. A treasure in a closet or something?
Just before I stepped into the room, I heard the familiar thud noise. The one that was made before, and when I knocked on the door. My heart felt like it was going to stop. The noise was distant, but there was no mistaking it. My first instinct was to run, but I couldn't leave Dave behind; he of course paid no mind to it. Hell, he was already in the room walking towards the closet. And it was at that moment that things went to hell, I never even had the chance to warn him.
The second Dave stepped foot in the center of the room, there was a frightening crack. He didn't have time to react. The wood splintered, the ground beneath him gave way, and he fell through the floor. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Everything in front of me was crashing down. The wood was so old and decayed that it couldn't even support Davey. Dust and dirt flew everywhere, by the time it was over, it was hard to breathe. Wait...Dave didn't make a sound. Did he die on impact? Was he okay? My mind had never had never raced so fast before.
"Dave!" I shouted in-between coughs. "Dave are you okay?!" I repeated the question a few more times, and waited. After an agonizing minute I got my response.
"I'm okay," he answered weakly. "Not a scratch on me."
I peered down the large hole that was now in front of me. Dust was everywhere, but as it cleared I could see him more clearly; there was Dave and he was completely intact.
"And guess where I am?" I sighed deeply, glad that he hadn't lot his sense of adventure.
"I'm in the locked room, get down here, I'll open the door for you."
He wiped the dirt off of his forehead and motioned for me to come down. I obediently turned around and headed for the stairs, preferring to take the safe route down.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs I noticed something odd. Were those big footprints always there? Two frighteningly large footprints had been left on the floor. There was something odd about them though...they didn't look human. Too big, four toes, and they were round. My imagination quickly got the better of me, and I could feel the panic rising quickly. I was starting to feel nauseous, even more so when I realized the footsteps were leading to the room that Dave was in. I could leave right now, run home, and tell my parents to call the police; we didn't have cell phones back then. But I didn't do any of that, I just kept walking towards the locked room.
The door was open, and I could see shadows dancing on the door frame. There were two shadows, one big one small. The larger shadow was pounding into the smaller one. I could hear the blows landing. Thump...thump, thump thump. Each time it hit, Dave would whimper. I was frozen in place. The door was only a few feet away, but I couldn't bring myself to take another step. I wanted to save my friend, but I just couldn't move. I could only stand there and watch the shadows.
"Please..sto-"
*Smash.*
The last hit was harder than any of the others ones, I could hear the bones break from where I was standing. Dave's shadow stopped moving, it was limp. The larger shadow picked up the frail little body, and began slashing into it with what looked like a blade. A dark liquid splashed onto the door, and started oozing towards the floor. I wanted to puke.
I could feel hot liquid running down my pants. Must have been scared enough to piss myself. I looked at the floor and saw the puddle that I had made. It was time to leave. I took one last glance at the door, and what I saw when I looked up still haunts me today. A large humanoid figure stood in the doorway holding Dave's body. It was too dark to see it clearly, but I got a peak at its eyes; its big blue eyes. Big and blue like the ocean, and the waves were rippling with rage.
I wanted to leave. No, I needed to leave but my legs refused to move. They were anchored to the floor, fear had stopped them completely. My heart on the other hand was moving, it was moving very fast. Reluctantly I stood there...staring at the monster that was holding my dead friend. It didn't take long for our eyes to meet. We stood there in an eternal staring contest, I was too afraid to blink. I remember thinking that if I closed my eyes I would never open them again.
It was only after two long minutes that I could finally feel my legs again, so I slowly took a step back. The monster mimicked my movements by stepping forward each time I took a step back. My heart sunk when I realized what it was doing. Every molecule in my body was telling me to turn around and sprint, but could I really outrun this monstrosity? No, there was no way. I decided to keep my pace, buy myself time until I got to the door.
Once we reached the living room it dropped Dave, outstretched its arms towards me, and grinned. It was the single most wicked thing I had experienced in my life. The monster's grin, from corner to corner, reached both of its eyes. His teeth were long and white, like a shark. We were almost at the door, but he was no longer mimicking my steps.
For each step I took, he took two. Step by step he was closing the gap. The moonlight from the window shined on his outstretched arm. Its hand was human-like, only there was something off about it. The nails were long, the skin was rotted, and some of the flesh looked like it had scratched off. It was enough to make me dizzy. Soon I could hear it breathing. Each breath was labored, it was almost wheezing. One more step and I would see its entire body in the moonlight. I didn't want that.
The thought alone was enough to make me turn, grab the door knob, throw it open, and rush out of the house. I didn't dare look over my shoulder until there was some distance between the two of us. I expected to turn around and see the monster lumbering after me, but surprisingly it wasn't. The monster never came out of the house. It didn't chase me down the street. It didn't rip me to pieces. It just stood there, on the porch, waving goodbye. Its malformed hand slowly rocking back and forth, with the same deranged smile on its face.
A few days later, when the police report was made public, my parents told me that the monster was, "Just a hobo on drugs."
The police had found Dave's body next to a dead homeless man. Apparently he had overdosed shortly after I had left. I try to tell myself that I was just imagining things, and that there was no monster, but I don't know what to believe. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, I can't get that fucking smile out of my head. I'm done with this, if I write anymore I'll start having nightmares again. Food's here anyway, I just heard a knock at the door.
(
this one was my first attempt at horror)
