ENJOY.
Joey sighted the old house first. Holes gaped in its thatched roof and weeds infested the garden. To hide the fear that shivered through their bodies, the boys kept up a steady stream of chatter.
With a show of bravado, they swaggered through a gap in the wall and struggled through the tangle of weeds until they stood before the enormous front door. Joey raised his hand tentatively and tugged on the handle. Slowly the door creaked open.
With the other boys close on his heels, Joey stepped over the threshold into a large hall. The boys stared at the room, not sure what to make of it. Instead of the dust they expected to see coating the floor, or the cobwebs they imagined would be trailing from the ceiling, the room was spotlessly clean.
Chandler flickered on a flashlight. The yellow-white glowing beam illuminated throughout the room, showing the hall’s true colours.
It was grey and black, mainly- black tiled floors, smooth dark walls. A fragile chandelier hung above their heads, the crystal stones glittering in the glow of the flashlight. No other decorations were in the huge hallway; not a table, or an ornament, or a photo in a frame.
There were three dark doors, not including the front door (which had somehow managed to shut itself silently). There was a soft creak that echoed throughout the house, causing all three of the teenage boys to jump. For a few minutes, they stood frozen, eyes wide as they strained their ears for any other sounds. The flashlight was cast towards the ground, limp in Chandler’s hand.
“Maybe we should leave...” Ross whispered. He was the one who had a very high fear of most things- spiders, heights, the dark. Often he was considered the ‘scaredy-cat’ out of the three of them.
“No way.” Joey smirked, “Take a door each and meet back here in one hour.”
Chandler nodded, while Ross shivered, terror radiating off him. While Joey swaggered forwards to the door at the far end of the hall, Chandler slowly opened the door to the right. After a few minutes of sheer fear and hesitation, Ross quietly opened the door to the left.
***
Joey pulled his mobile phone out of his baggy, navy jacket, using it as a light to lead the way. This room was very much like the hall; completely dark colour-wise, without an ornament or photo or decoration in sight. It was merely an empty room, apart from one thing; a rather large shape, much taller that Joey himself (who stood at about 5”7). The shape was cloaked in material to protect it from the dust. Curiosity getting the best of him, Joey slowly stepped forwards, tugging the cloth-like material away. Hidden beneath the material was a huge, ancient, antique mirror. Carvings were engraved in the faded gold frame, with intricate spirals dwindling up towards the corners. The looking-glass, despite the cloak that had covered it, was speckled with some sort of black, dried, paint-like substance. Looking closer, Joey saw his own reflection in the dim light of his phone; yet something was off about the reflection. Yes, he was still the dark-haired, green-eyed teenage boy he knew himself to be, but something didn’t seem quite right. He peered, looking closer. Behind him, a small, cloaked figure stood, their face hidden beneath a hood. Joey spun on his heel, his heart pounding, to see-
Nothing. When he looked in the mirror again, the cloaked figure was gone.
***
Chandler left the door open a crack, as he knew it was foolish to shut it completely. He shone the flashlight throughout the room, catching sight of nothing- just dark walls, dark floors, dark ceilings. There was something- or somebody- with him in the room; he heard it, shifting lightly and quickly, barely making a sound. Chandler stood, silent and still, his eyes scanning the room, flashlight limp in his hand.
“Mreow.”
Chandler breathed a sigh of relief; merely a cat. It was rather big, with sleek, spotted fur, like a silver cheetah. Its eyes were sky-blue and almond-shaped, illuminated in the glow of the flashlight. The cat gazed up at Chandler’s face, as if examining him. A few seconds later, the cat bolted away- it was extremely fast. But the cat’s speed wasn’t the only thing that had puzzled him.
The cat had disappeared into the dark wall.
Frowning, Chandler shone his flashlight over towards the wall. He raised his free hand, edging towards the wall, half-expecting his hand to disappear along with the cat. His hand, however, stayed perfectly intact- in fact, he pressed the palm of his hand directly onto the wall. Nothing happened; his hand did not disappear through the wall.
***
The room Ross had entered was dark, and colder than the hallway. Cautiously, he took a few steps into the room. He pulled his hoodie sleeves further over his bony hands, trying to keep them warm. It was a failed attempt- the air around him seemed to drop in temperature every second. Shivering, Ross pulled out a little key ring with a tiny flashlight attached to it. He clicked it on, revealing the room.
It was covered in ice. The floor he stood on was solid, but cracks were still visible, even in the poor glow of the tiny flashlight. Icicles hung overhead, dripping quietly. Small glaciers were scattered across the room- if you could call it that. Casting the light further, Ross gasped as he caught sight of a pool of water, dark and deep.
Terrified, Ross stumbled back towards the door. He was so awfully clumsy- he slipped on the ice. Sheer pain seemed to rush through him as he gasped, casting the light down to examine his injured leg. Indeed, he was bleeding; the scarlet was perfectly visible, and his stomach churned. Quickly covering the wound with his baggy trousers again, Ross struggled to stand steadily. When he finally did manage it, he felt extremely weak. Limping, he pulled himself up and towards the door, keeping one hand clutched around his leg. Struggling to find the door knob, Ross hissed in annoyance; he had dropped the little flashlight, and it seemed so far away now. At last, his knobbly hand grabbed the doorknob. He threw the door open, his breathing deep.
Never again would he dare to go into an abandoned house. Never.
***
It wasn’t long before the three boys were racing through the tangle of weeds in the front yard once again. They most certainly vowed to avoid any house like that ever again.
A girl stood at the only window of the house, at the very top- she looked about 26 or 27, but in fact, the girl was a witch, and therefore many years older than what she appeared to be- 3,489 moons old, to be exact. Her short brown hair was stuck out at all angles, her emerald eyes shining with pride. She often found it amusing to see strangers entering her house- in fact, she couldn’t help laughing to herself as the three boys stumbled out through the final weeds.
And with that, the witch sat down, put her feet up, and began stroking a rather large, silver cheetah.
