Be sure to check the two awesome stories by our fellow Wattpader, JaminaPlauyfulWolf. She writes these awesome stories about girls being whisked away into the world of Wolves (Shape Shifting human wolves). The stories are amazing, especially The Rogue, seven chapters so far.
This is just a short story about a haunted house. I know it's not very good, I was 11 when I wrote it.....more zombie school updates coming soon!
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It was a dark and gloomy night and there I was at the bottom of a long and windy dirt road. I was at the bottom, staring up at it. Wondering if i should still go in. The path was fenced with the few dead trees that were staring at me hungrily. The wind was moaning, heavy October rain hailed down around me. Shivers crept up my body as the fear what and how dominated my mind. I reached the gate. It was locked. I was questioning whether to go back. Maybe I could fit through that small gap? Maybe I would get stuck. He was probably only joking.Right? “Coward!” “You’re a coward!!” The harsh words echoed in my mind, peeling away the layer of fake self-belief and courage as I resentfully remembered that wounding comment so crudely spoken my father earlier that day. I was about to go back when suddenly there was a massive strike of thunder and the gate swung open, curiosity got the better of me and made my way towards the few decrepit steps that were left and crept up. The door staring at me, I felt like it was calling me in. I heard a bang from inside and quickly glanced at the window, only to meet a reflection disturbingly un-similar to mine. There was another crash and the door swung furiously open. I flung myself inside and tried calming down. The chandelier quickly lit and as I walked further in the smell of rotting cercus and burning fabric lingered in my nose. There were two archways either side, leading into rather large and dark looking rooms. There was a piano at the back and next to it a boarded up door. The staircase was situated on the left side of the hall against the wall. The floor was a cold, wooden and covered in only a fraction of the blanket of cobwebs that engulfed the house. I heard footsteps from upstairs and decided to investigate. If only I had known the horrors if held. I stared up at the top of the stairs, the creepiness of upstairs was calling me, wanting me to explore it. I slowly crept up the stairs, putting my hand on the banister for support, as most of the steps were broken. I was nearly at the top when I heard a loud bang, I jumped and scurried up the rest of the stairs. I quietly made my way down the corridor, noticing the only light coming from the glint of the pendulum in the old grandfather clock, decoratively placed in the back corner, swinging away each second, each minute...of our time. I quickly jumped into closest room, and a candle in the far corner lit. It was an averagely small room, on one side there was small, black Cot and on the other, an old rocking chair sitting beneath 4 black shelves, each with its own stack of dolls all accompanied with black eyes, perfect blonde bun tails and unique scratched and chips in their blushed cheeks. As I went to leave I could hear the faint sound of a music box which lay on a bare, black desk organising a few ragged brushes and a dusty mirror. The sound quickly got louder, and a crack rapidly bled up the mirror, disturbing its dusty sleep and only reflecting the rocking chairs aggressive rocking. My eyes were screaming for the truth that this hell only exposed to be a lie. Without hesitation I sped out. The grandfather clock struck again and I ran quickly to the steps, only managing three before fearfully heeding…there on the wall written in nothing else but blood were the words "GET OUT". I was frozen in shock. Something latched on to my hand, pulling it away quickly I saw, I had three deep scratches engraved in the back of my hand. Ignoring the blood dripping from my fingers, I ran down the stairs my heart now racing and my body shaking at the sight of...well...anything, I reached the door and pulled as hard as I could. It was locked! But how? I hauled at it again when from behind me I heard a faint whisper calling my name “Morgan, Morgan." I turned around to a sight more horrifying than death, the door that was once boarded up was now wide open. And standing next to it was the zombified woman I saw upstairs, she was wearing a murky white bed dress and had long, thick black hair. Her hair concealed her unsightly, pale face and black soulless eyes. Blood patterned her hand as it dripped slowly around and through her gaunt fingers. When I examined her closer I could see. She was holding a heart…still beating…slowly. With a sharp pain in my chest I look down to realise…it was my heart!!
