Remains

Excellence Award in the 'Top Secret 2016' competition

The cold but fresh air nipped at my nose and cheeks as I stood under the dim light. The moon was nowhere to be seen, hidden by a thick cloud of fog that hung low, making it difficult to see five metres ahead. All was dark, except the light from the porch which was incredibly weak, only a small flicker illuminating the cracked render of the two storey house. Looking at the long grass and the cob webs, anyone could tell that the house was abandoned. I still remember the life it used to hold, people would come and go as they pleased and everyone was welcomed with open arms. Laughter and music used to float down the street, and everyone knew it was us, this was our home.

The brass number eight stared at me in its crooked way. A storm was on its way, and the small plate looked like it couldn't cling on any longer, swaying maniacally in the wind. I reached for the door handle despite knowing that it would indeed be locked, but when a click sounded, echoing in my ears, I couldn't believe my luck.

A high pitched creak sounded as the door swung open, squealing in the quiet of the night. My eyes were immediately drawn to the stair case looming before me, the railing battered and rusted. The steps seemed to be in good condition, the shellac on the wood shimmering in the little light from outside. Stepping inside the house I was greeted with an eerie feeling, the kind that sent shivers up your spine days after the encounter. Much had changed since I’d been here last.

The floor boards creaked under the pressure of my weight, the closer I got to the staircase the louder the creaks got. Slowly and excruciatingly I got to the foot of the stairs, my hands shaking with anticipation. I reached my hand out to the banister and paused when a distant creak sounded, causing my heart to beat erratically. Holding my breath, I waited for the same noise, but when nothing came, I allowed my hand to clamp around the flakey railings. Carefully, I navigated my feet onto the first step, to the stable parts of the wooden uprising.

Moments before I took another step my hair was tugged harshly, followed by the sensation of a hand snaking around my waist and pulling me away from the staircase. I dug my heels into the floorboards, pushing all my weight onto them as my heart continued to pound heavily in my chest. I wanted to scream, but nothing above a whimper came.

The staircase disappeared from view as the door slammed shut in front of me, the loud bang thumping in my ears. The house looked different, there was a glow to it that made it almost look alive, as it used to be. My body went limp against my own will and I no longer felt a presence behind me… Whatever it was.



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