Staring up at the crumbling front door, I start to regret taking the dare. “Go check out the Eldridge house,” they said, “It’s completely safe,” they said. Yeah, well, I’m not so sure. The ancient house looks like it’s falling apart where it stands. The ivy covering the walls seems to be the only thing holding the bricks in place. Tentatively, I step onto the porch, which groans in protest under the weight of my boots. Since I haven’t fallen through yet, I think it’s okay to keep moving. The door feels rough to my hand and squeals as I push it open. Taking a deep breath, I take a step inside.
I’m instantly greeted by the musty smell of abandonment and dust, with undertones of something sickly-sweet and sinister. Clicking on my flashlight reveals a sitting room filled with antique furniture covered by drop-cloths. Straight ahead is a doorway that appears to lead to the master bedroom. To my right, a hallway extends deeper into the house. To my left, a staircase leads to the second floor. Spider webs cover almost every available surface, giving my surroundings a stereotypical “haunted house” look. I don’t like spiders, so I decide to check out the bedroom.
As I walk into the room, I instantly know something is off. The doorway into what looks like a bathroom has been wrenched off two of its hinges and is hanging at a haphazard angle against the wall. Dark stains cover the floorboards, extending up the wall, and the sinister smell is stronger here. Covering my nose with my sleeve, I shine the flashlight around to see if I can find any indicators of what might have caused the stains (or the smell, for that matter). All I can see is more dust, cobwebs and neglect. The furniture in this room is also covered with cloth, and as I check the floor for stray spiders I see a few fresh-looking footprints in the dust that aren’t mine. They’re bigger than my boots and have a strange zigzag tread design. I reconsider looking around in this room and turn back towards the foyer.
Looking out of the bedroom, I see a dark figure run up the stairs to the upper level. I’m paranoid to start with, but suddenly I get the feeling that I shouldn’t be here. I walk to the front door and put my hand on the knob, preparing to leave, but then I realize that if I don’t get an answer to “What was that thing and why am I not going to check it out?” it’ll bug me forever. So, obviously making the smart choice, I take my hand off the doorknob and follow the figure up the stairs.
The second floor is a dark hallway, wallpapered in what was once bright and cheery paper. Seemingly ending in an abysmal darkness, the passageway looks like it’s straight out of a horror movie. Again covering my nose with my sleeve, I wander down the hall while shining my flashlight at everything I can. Something on the ceiling catches my eye, and upon further inspection is revealed to be a trapdoor leading to what I presume to be an attic. Tugging on the attached ring, I’m proven correct as the trapdoor opens and a solid-looking ladder descends with all the grace of a debutante. Again making the smart choice, I put my flashlight in my mouth and make my way to the darkness above.
I was right, it’s an attic. A small window adorns the far wall, showering the room with moonlight. Boxes and trunks line every available space on the floor and are piled nearly to the ceiling. Turning in a circle, I take in a small, bare bed in a small opening between the mountains of stored objects. Next to it, I see a bowl and eating utensils on the floor and a pile of modernly-styled clothing. Since nobody had lived in the Eldridge house for at least thirty years, my mind begins to struggle to connect everything I’ve seen tonight. Apprehensively, I pick up a shirt from the pile and unfold it in the air in front of me. There’s a large, dark stain on the front, seemingly matching the stains in the bedroom downstairs. I shriek and drop the shirt. I run back over to the trapdoor, but as I reach it I hear a loud “THUMP” and watch it close before my eyes. I kneel in front of it and push on it with all my might, but something is holding it closed from the other side. As I keep pushing fruitlessly, I hear a deep voice laughing on the other side.
I am trapped.
Freak, Unleashed 