Light pierced through the decrepit house as the front door squeaked open.
As soon as he entered, dust attacked his face. He swatted at the air like a cat, almost dropping his flashlight in the process. He coughed. The place was a disaster – molding on the floor and walls, broken floor boards, yellowish-colored paint peeled walls. Yet, still fully furnished; but torn and ripped. It's been at least two decades since someone last occupied the house.
Disgusted. He moved down the hall, stopping. Turning. To see... the kitchen. Pots, pans, a plate of decade old breakfast that can't be identified lay on the table that barely stood. Dozens of flies buzzed around. He wanted to puke, instead, gulped it back down.
He shined the flashlight down the hallway. A door sat alone. It must lead to what he's searching for. Proceeding towards it, he was unaware that something lurked within the house... little own, the same room. It watched his every move.
He swung open the door. It lead downstairs... to the basement. The figure crept up behind him. Silent. Deadly. Preying on him.
He pulled out his cellphone. Dialed.
“Dude, I think I found where it hides its victims,” he said to the person on the other line. “Come quick-”
Before he could finish his sentence, he spun around, face-to-face with the tall, dark figure! It looked him deep in the eyes. It had him. Trapped. Then, the figure lunged at him.
Everything went black.
© Copyright 2016 Ryan Cecere. All rights reserved.
Book / Horror
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