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Thank you for visiting my website. I am an author of horror. This is the site where you can read my stories before they are published. I will change stories every 2 weeks, so you can come visit whenever you feel like it. This week's story is called, "House of Hell". I hope you enjoy it.
House Of Hell
6/14/03
It was dark. Very dark. Dark and depressing. Eleven o five west seventh street. The old house on the corner. The house everyone has been afraid of, and here I was, standing on the stoop. Moans and cries call out from within. All kinds of voices. High pitch, low pitch, kids, women, men. Nothing was spared. What pain, what horror.
The house stood there. All of three stories high. Rusted aluminum siding. Dead grass stood in the front yard. Trees dying. No sign of life at all near this house. Was this just a sign, or was this a reality of the neighborhood? Death. Nothing but death. Dark, scary death. Moans, cries, screams of horror. This house seemed like pure Hell. The house of hell is what everyone has called it for some time now.
Don't ask me what drove me there that night. Was it stupidity? Was it guts? I don't know. All I know is that here I am. Standing in front of the "House of Hell." Maybe it was because of the bet that my friends had with me. Maybe it was some other force, but there I was. Now I am guessing the reason was because of sheer idiocy, but who knows?
My friends made a bet that I couldn't stay in the house overnight. What a moron I was by accepting the bet. There I was, standing in front of what was known as hell. Tortured souls cry out from the inner walls. I started to walk to the door. I grabbed the door knob. Ice cold. As cold as death. I shuttered at the very touch. I twist the handle counter-clockwise, and the door slowly opened. Darkness. Utter darkness. Nothing. No lights, no sounds. Just an eerie silence fell around the house. No movement, none whatsoever.
I started to creep in the doorway. Floorboards creeked, walls cracked. This house seemed totally ancient inside. Cobwebs in every corner. Dust everywhere. No signs of life. Nothing. With every step I took I got even more nervous. I walk to the middle of the floor. Moans started once again. Cries of torture rang out thru the house. A cold, damp chill came across my body. I stood there, in awe. Knowing of what may lie ahead. Then out of nowhere, a voice called out. "Git out of here, you are not wanted."
Now like any other person I shot towards the door. Streaks of dust arose from my shoes. Thwap, the door closes on its own. I shutter in pure horror. Will I let this get the best of me? Yes, more than likely, but I will not give up on this bet. I will win the bet, and laugh in my friends faces. That was the thought that carried me. Not just taking their money, but beating them. They thought I was a chicken. Eventhough they are right, I am gonna win this bet. I reach in my pocket, and grab my flashlight. I was smart enough to bring several extra "d" sized batteries, just in case. I have watched all of those horror movies. The flashlights go off, and suddenly, death appears. In every movie, it's the same thing. I take the flashlight out, turn it on, and began to walk towards the staircase that was just to my left. Walking through mounds, and mounds of dust, and layers upon layers on cobwebs, I reach the staircase, and began to ascend the stairs.
With every step came a new moan. With every step came a new cry of horror. Slowly I walk up the stairs. Who knows what awaits me. Soon, I will find out. Hopefully nothing. More than likely it will be sheer horror. Halfway up the stairs now, and suddenly the voice began again. "What do you want from us?"
"Shut up, leave me alone. I will not let you scare me," I respond to the voice. As soon as I finish speaking, a big blast of cold air hit me. Throwing me off the staircase. Thud. That is the sound I made when I hit the floor. Bending the floorboards. Hearing more and more cries.
"Too late. You are now one of us. No one will ever know you existed, ever. Hahahahaha," the voice spoke out.
"Shut up. You will not harm me. I am better than you. Leave me the hell alone. It is not my fault your mother abused you when you were a child," I said sarcastically. Now don't ask me why I am being a smartass to something that I dont even see, but that is me. I am known far and wide for being a smartass.
Silence fell about the house. All was quiet. Realizing this, I approach the staircase again, and start to ascend. This time with every step came silence. No noise. Not even creaking. Halfway up, and still no noise. I come to the top of the staircase with peace. No screams, no cries. Nothing. Silence. This was no ordinary silence, though. This silence was very uneasy. Here I stand. The second floor. Atop the staircase. No light. Nothing but darkness. No noises. Peace.
I begin to walk the long corridor of doors. Trying to open each door. None of the doors are opening. I see a shadow in the darkness. I flash my light that direction. Nothing. Could this just be my imagination? I doubt it. I know there is something around me. I couldn't see it, nor hear it, but I do feel its presence. Nothing good at all. I feel nothing but cold, damp horror. Suddenly I feel a tap on my back. I turn quickly, and to my amazement, there was Samantha. My girlfriend of four years.
Samantha and I were in love. Talking about getting married. Here she was. Standing in front of me. Looking as gorgeous as ever. Those soft, supple lips. Those amazing eyes. That beautiful nose. The most beautiful woman in the world. "What are you doing here, Sam," I ask. No answer. "Sam? What are you doing here," I ask one more time. Still no answer. Her body begins to fall. There behind the body was this tall, shadowy figure, laughing at me. Then right in front of my eyes, Sams body vanishes, and so does the shadowy figure. Unnerved, I turn around, quaking, and continue my walk through the corridor. Flashing the light on every door I come to. Turning every knob I see. No doors are opening.
I come upon the very last door, grabbing the knob, twisting. Voila, the door creeks open. Nothing but more doors were in this room. Another long corridor of doors. This corridor was filled with the same noises that I heard when I was on the doorstep. Screams of torture, cries of terror. All sounds amplified twenty times. Pounding on my ear drums. Screams of sheer horror surrounded me as I take my first couple of steps in the corridor. Every step I take comes even more cries, and screams.
As I approach the first door, I shine my light on it, looking at the knob, which is covered in an orange goo. Slowly reaching for the handle, and turning. The door swings open. Nothing in this room. Nothing, but even louder cries of horror. I shine my light around the small room. Cobwebs and dust. Nothing. I slowly close the door, and continue on my way.
As I reach the next door, I shine my light on it, as well. Grab the handle, and turn. The door slowly opened. There, in front of my eyes, was the same figure I seen before. Tall, shadowy. So tall that I couldn't see the head. The figure disappears without a trace. I slowly enter the medium sized room. Looked like a bedroom. A huge bed in the middle of the floor, dresser, antique chandelier, and a rather big closet. As I shine my light throughout the room I notice that there on the dresser was a book. A diary as it seems. I sit my light down, grab my book of matches, grab my pack of cigarettes, light up, and light the candle that was bedside. I sit on the side of the bed, and began to read.
October 2, 1874-
The start of the new age came today. A guy came to my house and talked to me for a few minutes to see where I stood on the subject. After a few minutes he seemed to get enraged. I said something that struck a cord. He threatened that he will come back, and that I wouldn't enjoy it.
October 3, 1874-
The guy came back to visit me again. He apologized for the way he had acted the day before. I accepted, and that was that.
October 4, 1874-
I had got a call telling me that my dad had died, and that I was next. Scared, I moved to my mothers house for a few days.
October 5, 1874-
All is well here with my mother. We are both grieving over my father, but I expected that.
October 6, 1874-
I went back to my house, but nothing was the same. All of my plants had died, and there were alot of noises coming from the second floor. I never checked it out, but I did call the cops and they checked the house from top to bottom, and the house was clean. So I decided to stay there for another night or so, and see if the guy bothers me again.
October 7, 1874-
Today was a weird day. I seen all kinds of shadowy figures walking around in my house. One spoke to me threatening my life. When I tried to escape, the doors locked on their own. When I tried the phone line I, I
This is where the diary ended. Probably in this same seat. I have been seeing the same figures this person seen over a decade ago. I hear a noise. Shine my light towards the door. There, standing in the door were three tall, shadowy figures. Without a noise they seemed to hover towards me, and hit me over the head. I fall out on the bed. Knocked out.
I awake. I am back in my house. Laying in my bed. Only the noises of my alarm radio in my house. Was this all a dream? Could that have been nothing but my imagination? I get up, turn the alarm off, and get dressed. I walk around my house trying to figure out what happened, but after all the thinking I came to the conclusion that it was all a dream. I go outside my house, and grab the newspaper. As I enter my house, I hit my toe on the door. Jamming it, after cursing a bit, I sit down and begin to read the paper. I read the paper from front to back, inside and out. I go to my kitchen to throw the paper away. I head for the bathroom after that. As I come to my bathroom door, I notice an orange goo dripping off of it. Suddenly I am back at the old house. I am in the bathroom. Suddenly I turn aound and arghhhhh.
