The House

The tall three-story house seemed to laugh at Eric Trey as the wind whistled through its many cracks and holes. Why his parents had wanted to buy the house he was still trying to figure out. The house was black-unusually-and had only a few windows. They were all on the third floor, which was completely idiotic in Eric's mind. With paint peeling off the sides and a lawn that looked similar to a wheat field, the house definitely wasn't very attractive. But it wasn't the looks his parents had bought the house for, but the price. They could always fix it up but they'd said it was an excellent price for the size of the house. Eric still hated it.1

After standing awhile staring in what seemed like a hypnotized gaze, the three of them finally made for the door, wading through the sea of grass. Reaching the front porch Eric was quickly aware of how careful to be as a rotten board gave way from beneath him, sending him almost headfirst into the door. He regained his balance in time to safely pull his leg from the wooden hole and step on firm ground.2

His parents merely gazed at him, a small hint of regret on their faces. But that didn't stop Mr. Trey from turning the brass door handle and ushering his family inside. It was a nice day outside-seventy five degrees with a little wind. But as soon as Eric stepped foot inside the house it felt as though he had walked into a cold front. Goose bumps rose on his arms instantly and the hair on his neck stood up. He shivered trying to get rid of the symptoms.3

He looked around at his surroundings. The first floor was like nothing he'd ever seen before. In front of him was a single door about ten feet away. It was also black. To either side of it was a hallway that continued until it met another door. The side walls were plain, there was nothing on them, except the black peeling paint like the outside of the house. No windows, no closets, no heaters... nothing. Eric walked to the door in the middle of the room, directly in front of him. He grasped hold the doorknob and froze. Suddenly the goose bumps doubled on his body and his hair stood up even straighter. It had gotten colder, and he felt something, like he was being watched almost. He tried the door anyways. Locked. Locked? Why would it have been locked? He asked himself and came up with no answer. Wanting to get rid of his chills he went to the left to see where the hallway would take him.4

As he slowly walked toward the other door he still couldn't get rid of that feeling. The feeling he was being watched. It was just a new creepy house-he's told himself. But he didn't know he was right, or that his parents had the same feeling, or that there was a single small hole in the side of the wall where a lone eye peeked through watching his every move.........5

"Mark. Mark!" Mrs. Trey rasped.6

"Yes dear?" He replied.7

"Look at this." Diana Trey had seen a little booklet on the floor in front of the kitchen doorway. Half the size of a normal book, and very dusty and tattered the book looked very curious; curious enough to make Mrs. Trey open it to the first page. Dust lay in the binding making it impossible to read whatever was written. She tilted it toward her letting the dirt fall between her feet, creating a musty could all the while.8

Although the dust was gone the ink was still too faded to read.9

"What is it?" Mr. Trey asked.10

"I don't know......I can't read anything out of it," Diana replied flipping through the pages. She opened it to the first page again and studied harder than ever. Suddenly as if bleeding through from the back of the book, fine red ink slowly appeared on the page. It read one word: leave. 11

SLAM!! With a sudden gust of wind the kitchen door slammed shut causing her to jump and drop the book. It now lay on the floor close to where she'd gotten it.12

"C-come on, honey...lets go see what's upstairs." Mark spoke up, feeling unwanted chills run down his spine. They both left the scene unaware of the same lone eye inspecting them through the finest of all holes in the hallway wall.13

The door Eric was staring at was the same as the front door, black and ugly. But it seemed slightly bigger. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled. Unlike the last door it swung open at once, revealing a set of old wooden stairs. The second floor-he thought harmlessly as he began to make his way to the top. But once again he had no idea he was being watched. No idea that when he'd get to the top the bottom door would also be locked......forever.14

"Where are the stairs again?" Mrs. Trey asked.15

"They're this way...down the other hallway." Mark replied remembering his first tour of the house. He led his wife down the same hallway their son had just gone down and to the same door he'd just entered. As Mr. Trey tried the doorknob a very puzzled look came about his face.16

"It's locked........." Pausing they both searched for an answer to why the door was locked. It hadn't been locked on their first tour of the house, so why was it locked now? Trying to think logically, Mr. Trey attempted to come up with an answer.17

"The realtor probably just locked it and forgot to give us a key-that's all. I'll give him a call later." Even though his explanation seemed reasonable, Mrs. Trey still had a look of uncertainty in her eyes. Following her husband back down the hallway, away from the door, she scratched at her ear as the slightest little sound tickled it, not knowing it was one of her sons' muffled screams. She continued to walk and stopped, only when she heard a sudden thud from upstairs. The muffled screams ceased. Shrugging it off, she began walking again, unaware that she would never see her son alive again.18

"Let's see if the basement door's unlocked," Mark suggested and lead his wife down the opposite hallway to the left and then to the right, straight in front of an ugly black door. He grasped the door handle and turned. Wait. He didn't turn it he slowly realized. But it was too late as the door swung open. His hand seeming to cramp around the doorknob Mr. Trey was unable to let go until the door slammed against the wall forcing him to tumble down the stairs.19

A stair caught him on the mandible shutting his mouth in a forceful blow. Several teeth were broken and his lip was severely cut, but he still had his tongue. Mrs. Trey went to help her husband leaping onto the first step. But as her foot made contact it gave way plummeting her foot into the hole. Her leg was immovable but her inertia still carried her body forward ripping her leg fiercely from the rotted step, but not before breaking her ankle. She landed next to her husband, as badly beaten as he was. Abnormally another gust of wind rushed up the stairs slamming the door the other way, casting Mr. and Mrs. Trey into complete darkness. There was an audible click from the outside...then...the screaming began......................20