It was a dark night when the storm happened. Every cellar was dank, every roof leaked, and every house moaned at the rain patting it over and over again. Outside it wasn't much different. The streets were soaked with water, the cars were wet. No one would dare go out in this storm except one. He had just gotten out of the cab, carrying a suitcase that looked like it held a bomb. A boy watching from a window tried not to stare but the man from the cab was so peculiar. The man had a long brown beard, and his eyes looked as if they had seen ages before his time. The boy watching from the window not wanting to sleep shouted, "Come up here sir, it's drier!"
"No, I don't have any time left, I am already late."
"But sir, what are you late for?"
"I can't tell you but, can you point me to the house of 1193?"
"Sir this is that house."
"Can you get me a boy named Christopher?"
"That is me sir."
"Let me come up there, we need to talk."
"Let me just get the door sir." The boy let the man into the house and they walked to the attic.
"Christopher, I have one thing to tell you."
"What is it, sir." The boy said eagerly.
"It is your time to go."
The boy's energy deflated, "I don't want to go."
"But it is your time, do you want to mess with fate?"
"I-no I, I want my mom, she will get you out and put you where you belong. Mom! Mom! MOM!" The boy's mother came in and called the cops, and they took the man away. And the next day the boy died.
YOU ARE READING
A Visitation
HorrorHave you ever wondered who was knocking on the door at night? Have you ever thought about whether you were home alone, or if something else was there with you? While not all of these stories are meant to scare you, most of them certainly will. Warni...
