Headline

 They turned and hurried back down the steps. Sweat beaded on their forehead and gasps escaped their lungs as they swung the massive wooden door open, throwing themself into the unruly weeds of the forgotten yard.

If only I had reacted as quickly as they did.

My story began exactly how theirs did. With a mindless dare given by a group of ignorant friends, doing anything they possibly could to make their teenage years less depressing. My town was famous for its outlandish rumors and conspiracy theories, that our conservative airhead parents believed without a second thought. There was one in particular, though, that was more popular among the younger generation, one that could easily be spun into ghost stories for sleepovers. It involved the old abandoned mansion at the edge of town. You know the one. An exterior of rotting wood that became home to the most disturbing of insects, dusty and broken windows boarded up with a considerable lack of care, and an unkempt yard of untamable weeds trapped in by a bent and broken metal fence. The whole property looked like it would collapse if as much as a bird flew into it wrong. 

“Supposedly there’s some book in there.” My friend Isaac leaned back in his chair, taking a long sip of his Gatorade.

“A book? That sounds stupid,” Issac’s sister Harley groaned. I was over at their house, a normal thing for me to do on Saturdays, and as always the siblings’ cynicism did not falter. 

Issac scooted his chair closer to Harley and obnoxiously waved his hands in her face. “It’s supposed to be possessed or something. It’s some sacred spellbook from the time of the witch trials.”

“That kind of does sound stupid,” I said, a smirk spreading across my face. Taunting Isaac was my passion. His eyes shifted over to me, a visible flame in his pupils. 

“Then I assume you’re not chicken enough to go get it.” 

And that’s how I got roped into the worst decision of my life. Issac and Harley wave goodbye to me and giggle as I stand on the sidewalk in front of the house. It looms over me like a beast, its pointed Transylvanian roof almost threatening to skewer me. I hesitantly open the metal gate, an ear-piercing screech coming from the hinges, making me cringe. I tiptoe through the weeds, wayward sticks from the ground scraping my ankles. As I approach the porch, the colossal wooden door that leads to the house creaks open without a hint of wind. As my feet stumble backward in shock, I suck in a breath of air and squeeze through the doorway. I’m struck with the smell of mold and hit in the eyes with a whirlpool of dust as I enter the house, blurring my vision, but through the fog in my eyes, I notice light flooding through the space under a door up a deteriorating staircase. I’m drawn to the door like a moth to the flame, without any sort of control. The door swings open. 

I’m greeted by a dank, sour smell, as well as a long Victorian table at the edge of the room. Above me hangs a crooked chandelier infested with spiderwebs, and a thick cracked glass ceiling that drips dirty water. A droplet hits the table, landing on something that I can’t make out. I inch closer, my eyes focusing on what can only be the basis of this idiotic excursion. The book. Before I’m able to extend my hand, the cover flies open. 

An invisible force knocks me backward. A pair of shadowy hands tear through the pages and latch onto my ankle, dragging me toward the book. “No, no no, no, no-” My voice catches in my throat as I claw at the wood floor, splinters digging into my fingertips. I’m being pulled further away from the doorway, watching the world I once knew slip away. For a little while, there’s nothing but darkness. It lasts for as long as it feels to be asleep. 

I’m awoken by footsteps. A teenager that appears to be my age is stepping into the room, their eyes in a trance that I can only assume I was in when I entered. I wake up on the floor and scramble to a standing position. I have to get this person out of here, or else they’ll experience the absolute horror I just did. “You need to go,” I say, my voice smaller than I thought it would be. They keep moving toward the book, very slowly, their arm extended. “I’m serious. This place is bad news, I swear, I almost died-” They weren’t listening to me. I decided enough was enough, so I reached out my hand to grab their arm.

My hand phased right through. 

My mind went blank. 

This didn’t make sense. My chest tightened as I screamed, “Get out of here!” The shadowy hands appeared, stretching toward the teenager, but they were quick to react, their trance breaking. They let out a blood-curdling scream and backed quickly out of the room. I followed them as they bolted downstairs, my mind racing, unable to comprehend how when I ran my toes barely touched the ground. Outside the teenager fell at the feet of three other kids, all chuckling. One of them leaned down and said, “I knew you were too chicken.” 

The moment I pinpointed as to when it all came together was glancing down as I stood in the doorway to the abandoned house. My eyes shifted to see a damp and ripped newspaper sprawled on the entrance steps. Its headline read:

Local Girl Disappears In Uninhabited House - Presumed Dead

Followed by a picture of me.