We
spent the night in a haunted house. We
didn’t have to. No one forced us. We’re not sure now why we did.
There
were no horrifying apparitions. No blood
dripped slowly from the ceiling. Nothing
moaned or whispered. No fingers clutched
or trailed softly down the soft hairs along our arms. The house was musty and damp, and we slept
fitfully, fearfully, expectantly.
Nothing
at all happened.
Except
when we opened the door to leave and found only another hallway stretching
off into the dark and distance, smelling of age and mildew.
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5 comments:
Ha, perfect. No grue, no gore, no big dramatic confrontation. Just never-ending desperation in a dank, drab place. Love it to death, man.
I echo (down the hall) Loren's comment.
Very nice!
Yeah, I love this one. What could be more horrifying than being trapped somewhere forever?
This story reminds me of marriage...
Take heed kids!
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