The Haunting

Mike knew something was wrong. Ever since he and his friends had come to spend the night at that large “haunted mansion” in the middle of the woods, he had been getting these unnatural chills down his spine, like someone was breathing down his neck. Mike didn’t even know why they had come to the mansion, Blake had said something about a dare, something about whoever could “survive” the night at the haunted mansion, then they would get a thousand bucks and front-row seats to the next Super Bowl game, but Mike wasn’t sure. “Anyway” he thought, “the place doesn’t look scary.” So far things were going well. Mike and his friends had set up camp at the back of the mansion, but quickly decided to spend the night in the mansion itself, because there was something unnatural about the grounds that none of them could explain, almost as if someone, or something, was watching them. They had to climb through a broken window, because for some odd reason, the handles on the door had been ripped off, making it impossible to open. Inside the mansion they found that the old house was still in good condition, but with some strange features; in the several of the rooms they found all the drawers and cupboards had been either ripped out of the walls or smashed, as if someone had been trying to hit a piñata with a crowbar while under the effects of alcohol. In the living room they found that the mantle above the fireplace had several long markings on them. “Almost like claws.” Mike thought, but he quickly pushed the idea out of his brain. “There’s nothing in this house that could do that, and besides, if there was, it probably died a long time ago.” He thought. The moment he thought that the air suddenly got much, much colder, as if someone had turned the air-conditioning down to sub-zero. A small gust of wind blew past Mikes arm, but there were no open windows in the room and all the doors were closed. Mike suddenly felt like he and his friends were not the only ones in the room. “Guys, do you feel that?” he said. “Yeah,” said Stacy, one of the girls who came with them, “Why is it so cold in here?”

“Why indeed?”

Mike nearly jumped out of his skin. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He couldn’t tell if it was a male’s voice or females. “Did you hear that?” he asked his friends. “Hear what?” asked Savanna, the other girl that came with them. “That voice, kind of like a whisper.” Mike replied, his eyes darting nervously around the room. Blake scoffed. “Dude, what are you talking about, there’s no voice, except for our own. You’re just trying to freak us out so you can win the bet. Now come on, let’s see if we can find the controls for the air conditioning, I’m about to freeze to death.”

As they continued to explore the mansion, Mike trundled along at the back of the group, thinking about the voice that he heard. “Why could I hear it and the others couldn’t?” he thought to himself. “Probably just my mind playing trick on me.” He concluded. But, somehow, his instincts told him that he was wrong.

After searching the mansion both high and low, they still hadn’t found the air-conditioning controls. Also, Mike kept noticing strange things he could not explain; curtains fluttering about when there were no windows open, small gusts of wind brushing up against him, almost seeming to go through him, and an oppressive feeling of dread that he couldn’t explain. ‘The AC controls must be in the basement, it’s the only place we haven’t checked.” Savanna eventually said, after searching the living room for the third time. “Well, if the AC controls are in the basement, then Mike can go down there and find them.” “WHAT!” Mike shouted a little too loudly. “Why do I have to do it, why can’t you guys come with me?” he said in a quieter tone. “Because,” Blake said, a small smile spreading across his face, “you were the one who decided to try and freak us out back in the living room, talking about some voice that you heard, so it’s only fair.” His face suddenly lit up with a sly grin. “Besides, if you don’t go down there, you will be nothing but a big chicken that was too afraid to go down in a little basement.” Mike sighed. He knew he was beaten. “All right, fine, I’ll go.” He finally said, slowly making his way down to the basement.

Mike had thought that the mansion had been pretty scary, the basement was even scarier. First of all, it was completely dark. The only light sources came from the open doorway Mike had come through and some small patches of moonlight coming from some small basement windows. The whole place had a kind of stale, musty odor, and, worst of all; the thermostat were nowhere in sight, meaning that Mike would have to explore deeper into the basement. Keeping the door open to give him some light, Mike began to explore the walls and support beams for anything that give him a source of light. Suddenly the door slammed shut, cutting Mike off from the one thing he needed most: light. Mike ran over to it and tried to open it again, but it wouldn’t budge. Mike suddenly realized that the air was once again very cold, even colder than the last time if that was possible. He quickly put his back to the wall and began to edge along it, hoping to come across some other way out of the basement. Then, he felt something on the table next to him: a flashlight! Quickly Mike picked it up and turned it on. The beam shown faintly, revealing a long, sloping corridor on the opposite side of the room. “Finally, now I can get out of here!” Mike thought to himself excitedly, running towards it. At the entrance he stopped, puzzled. All of his instincts were telling him to not go down there, but he figured that it was the only other way out of the basement. “I’m just a little edgy, that’s all.” He told himself as he ventured into the corridor.

Mike found himself in a large circular chamber. A single window bathed a single corner of the room in pale moonlight. Other than that, the room was too dark to see. Mike shown his flashlight around the room, trying to find another exit, instead he found a large block of stone in the center of the room. The stone had no designs on it, but around the top were several groove marks, some short and shallow, while others were long and deep. There were also several rocks and sticks scattered around the room in random places.

“Welcome, little one, to my sanctuary.”

Mike felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was that same voice as before! Mike started to run back to the corridor entrance, but it wasn’t there. All he could see was a wall where the door should have been. Franticly he ran to the spot where the door should be, feeling the walls for some sort of concealed entrance or hidden door that would get him out of this place and back to his friends.

“Oh you can’t leave.” The voice said mockingly, “we haven’t even had a chance to get to know each other.”

Mike couldn’t stop shaking. “What do you want form me!” he shouted, shining his flashlight every which-way, trying to locate the source of the voice. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Oh but you have.” the voice hissed, “You and your friends did as soon as you set foot in this house! Don’t worry; they will be taken care of soon enough, but now that you’re here, my son has someone to play with.

Suddenly Mike’s ears began to detect the sound of shuffling footsteps at the far side of the room. Then another sound, the sound of labored breathing, as if someone had gargled with sulfuric acid for a week.

“You will make my son very happy, He has been lonely for quite some time.” the voice said, seeming to come from every corner of the chamber. Mike took a step back, and something crunched under his foot. Slowly, he looked down at what he had stepped on. It was a human ribcage! Mike whimpered in terror: the things that he thought were sticks and rocks were in fact bones and skulls. Glistening in the light of his flashlight, the bones littered the floor of the chamber. Some seemed to still have remnants of meat and sinew on them.

“Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you.” the voice hissed gleefully, “my son gets hungry form time to time. His favorite meal is…human flesh!” The sound of labored breathing grew louder and more ferocious now accompanied by the sounds of frenzied growling. The sound of shuffling footsteps came closer, and for one moment, Mike glimpsed a clawed, disfigured hand in the silhouette of the window. “Please, just let me go, PLEASE!” he begged. “Oh, not without my blessing.” the voice replied, seemingly bursting with excitement. “I bless you with the gift of a quick death!” Mike tried to scream, but no sound came out. Something hurtled through the darkness and struck Mike in the chest, directly where his heart was. As his vision began to blur, the last thing Mike heard was the sound of some kind of inhuman laughter echoing throughout the chamber, accompanied by the savage cry of some unnatural creature.