From a distance there was minor clunks, clangs, even the sounds made when someone unsheathes a sword. I followed the mysterious noises to blow off some steam. The floorboards creaked under me— I know I wasn't the skinniest but that just wrecked my ego.
There was a hallway; a long quiet hallway. It was like one you've seen out of a movie, a horror movie. Exactly like this was an identical one in the house we just moved into. Never once did I think I could miss something so fast in a matter of minutes.
Besides the flickering lamps stamped into the wall or the bumpy carpet, there was a door, just a door with a keyhole. From where we've lived in the past not once did I see a door with a keyhole. To be honest, I thought those things were a myth.
Teenagers watch a lot of scary movies while growing up— it's like apart of the growth. Some learn that it's best to stay away from danger whilst others are attracted to it. I was torn between the both. I settle down in front of the door and crouch with my hands up, slowly stroking over the cracks in the aging wood.
My eye moves from one place to another— steadily positioning in front of the rusty keyhole, my eyelashes hastily touching the corroded brass. My heart nearly dropped when I finally set my eyes on a blurry view of chunky, heavy set chains.
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