Haunting

• Horror

								
The moon hung solitary in the barren sky; moonlight flooded coldly down to the forest below. The river gushed past them like viscous silver lava, glistening metallically against the moonlight. Unnatural whispers echoed throughout the forest. The forerunner of the group paused a moment and produced a tattered, well-studied map from the side pocket of his frayed bag; pouring over every inch of it with his short, stubby finger. He said it was kind enough for him to give the map to them, but the land had changed over time. Jabbing awkwardly at a mark on the map that indicated a ‘Rest-house, he realised this was the only place that could offer shelter that night: the storm was coming. 
　
Twisting before them into the rolling mist, a path became apparent in the haze-ridden bushes and shrubs. The moon began to change and waned to small silver. Whispers called out to the travellers from the darkest depths of the ancient trees, where silver wisps twisted and writhed; the faint tympanic rhythm of footsteps seemed to reverberate from all directions. Hastening, their pace quickened and swiftly reached a determined and effective speed. The clearing appeared from nowhere – unobstructed ground framed an ancient dilapidated manor house. Silence seemed to pervade every tiny molecule of the environment, unnerving the travellers as they stood as statues, staring intently, filled with trepidation. The frontrunner made notice of the lighting in several windows that flickered seemingly with the wind…yet none of the windows were open. 

Desolate, ancient pines guarded the courtyard, magnificent sentries who seemed out of place, a beautiful contrast to the dire conditions of the manor. Underneath the crumbling building, the soil had settled over time causing the cold air to whistle and scream through the broken seals. The wood of the porch was rotting; the paint of the manor was discoloured with the disease of time. 

A twisted mass of vibrant green vines crawled up the heavy vertical cedar log beams along the porch, enveloping the house. Wind whistled and whirled as they all scanned the area, feeling as if eyes penetrated deeply into them. They all called out, but the only response was a heavy thud, as an unknown projectile hit the other side of the door, causing all three, in unison, to step back in horror, several feet from the porch. 
　
The door swung back with an unnerving whine revealing to the three travellers, a threatening dark emptiness. Leaves blew dismally in a parade of abandonment. Cautious of the sight before them, they stopped, stood and stared - peering into the pitch. Appearing from nowhere, a light cut the black emptiness like a shimmering blade, throwing the travellers back in astonishment. Gathering their tangled wits, they reassembled quickly and huddling for protection, crept furtively closer to the doorway. Their eyes gleamed with the imagined horrors of demons and spirits as the darkness captivated them and lured them forward. The door slammed shut. From the porch each had individually stepped back steadfastly, illuminating in contrast to the crumbling brick and rotting timber. Lights began to glare in every window as the wind began to erupt in storming alarm.  Brighter and brighter…then, the light faded. The door shut, colliding into the frame fiercely. 

Cautiously, they crept onto the porch - their eyes like ice. Each light step upon the rotted porch threw out a groan of agony that bewildered the travellers; their lifeless bodies standing petrified - Only able to rotate their necks to examine the area around them. The frontrunner of the group stepped back this time, so she felt the need to take it upon herself and peer inside the desolate house. The sound of the warped door scraping on its hinges broke her thoughts. She took a glance into the dark void that crowded the interior of the house. A light flickered around the room; a shadow ricocheted from the cupboard door underneath the stairs. The air around the travellers grew denser, as she stood petrified at the doorway. Another shift in the shadow-layered room left all the travellers thunderstruck. A figure began to form out of the darkness, striking fear down to the very souls of their being, as it stood next to the empty crevice of the doorway. 

Harshly the figure called out to the travellers. Trying to assimilate the traumatic scene before her, she began outwardly gasping for breath, only managing to stutter out a gargle of words. Managing to whisper, she asked the figure for a room to stay the night. Across the rotted floor, the figure seemed to shift wearily, lingering into the haze at the end of the corridor - allowing passage for the travellers to enter. In turn, they each stepped warily across the threshold that sent shivers down their spines; each of them saying no more than their darkened eyes. As soon as the third member stepped through, the door swung shut with a screech in its hinges louder than before. The figure made itself out to be a decrepit, old woman. Unhurriedly, the woman lifted her arm…her long, bony finger directing them over to the decaying staircase that lay against the faded walls. Staring intently into the haze-ridden room, they slowly began to discern a staircase. Like cats, they skulked through the threshold, choosing to descend it, each footstep throwing out an agonising groan. When the travellers reached the landing on the stairs, they felt as if eyes bored deeply into them…but still no sign. 

Through the corridor, they walked with caution - taking a grasp on the sights before them. Along the wall lay a spread of pictures that sat in fragmented framings. A decaying monkey’s paw sat centrepiece on a small table, with a cutlass sword hanging crooked above it. Further, down the hall they quickly diverted into the two spare rooms that sat wide mouthed, awaiting their entrance. They all stared intently out from the murky windows in their rooms, the cold air seeping through the broken seal made the room feel cold to the touch. The trees of the forest began to change to a sullen grey. 

Entranced by the captivating feel of the house, she wandered wearily overlooking her surroundings. Insipidly, she pressed on the body of the door, trying to create as little noise as possible. Glancing over the possessions once again, taking a keen eye over the cutlass sword…that has now moved from its once crooked position. Through the desolate hallways, she felt a cool shudder trickling down her spine like water droplets. Nervously scanning the area around her, she began to see the sombre portraits staring at her from behind layers of dust, seemingly penetrating her very being. Cold, hesitant streams of moonlight were flooding through a cracked window casting eerie shadows against the walls. She began to feel anxious as she walked, for she could not help but feel that someone was following her. 

Nothing could be seen but the empty hallway that seemed to stretch for miles, the faces in the portraits staring at her. 'Turn back' - they seemed to call out, but she swallowed a nervous whimper and continued into the dark bowels of the house... She entered a dark room in the centre of the house; shadows seemed to swirl around her feet - drawing her in. In a burst of panic, she rummaged around for a light switch, which she flipped up and down frantically…but the room remained immersed in darkness. Fear settled in and deep down she knew she was not alone in the dark. Hysterically, she turned around, seemingly with the feel of an icy hand scraping against her back. Distressed, she hurled her arms outwards frantically…but still no sign. Nothing she can see, that is. Outside she could hear the autumn wind howling, that almost sounded like laughter to her panicked mind. A low, soft chortle echoed from the depth of the room - breaking her thought process. She screamed, but nothing came out of the overwhelming blackness; she felt herself being drawn in, drowning in the slumbering evil…there is no escape. 

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