Suburban Dream

2 - Old House Rock

The house towered high above all others, the hill it was built upon only adding to that. From the top, you'd be able to see all around for miles and miles on end, over the massive pines and forests surrounding it. It had been built at a naturally flatter spot at the top of a hill so far from the city it took an hour to walk into town, with a massive yard. It was a lonely house, the nearest house about a half mile from it, but the size of it made it seem like an amalgamation of dozens of houses. It cast a shadow across the scenery, like a heavy storm cloud hovering above the hill permanently.

The house was something straight out of a fantasy book or a party of D&D. It was incredibly tall, resembling a tower, and composed of at least a half dozen floors, probably even more. The first few floors were somewhere between gothic and homey looking, in a way that newcomers would find the house unsettling but those familiar with it comfortable.

The next two floors were much the same: a large somewhat spooky-looking farmhouse style house, with one side jutting out enough for an extra room and the other tapering out for a garage. The second floor was given an exterior walkway along the front of the house, connecting several rooms, with the third floor overhanging it, shielding the wood from the rain, a terrace hidden behind the roof of the outcropping in the building. The facade was made up of a mix of warm dark wood around the trims and openings and faded and worn espresso reddish brown bricks, all of it monstrously overgrown by twisting and twirling vines, leaves colored dozens of hues of red, orange and gold in this time of the year.

From there, the house seemed to warp, large wooden beam supports ripping into the side of the house with the terrace to hold up a platform. Upon the platform, what looked almost like a smaller house rested, the platform extending out to stretch over the roof and support a wooden shack-like structure. The larger structure was made up of three square-shaped floors, stacked together to resemble a tower. The walls were made up of wood painted faded galliano yellow, oxford blue and martinique purple colors. The final floor's front wall was taken up by a massive stained glass window. The design was composed of vibrant colors ranging from christine orange to deep half baked cyan surrounding a simplified wide open eye with three straight eyelashes on either side running along the entire surface.

Paula stood next to the mailbox, about a hundred feet from the entrance and slightly lower in the hill. The road up to the house wound up the hill in an attempt to make it not too steep, but it meant sharp turns and about ten minutes of cycling to get up there. The sounds of cars and life were all but gone, replaced by the chirping of birds and the rustling of trees in the wind. She'd been to the old Conhagher house hundreds of times before, yet every time the sight of the house made her stop in her tracks.

Dozens of rumors circulated around town about the old house, about it being haunted and the inhabitants being freaks of nature, cannibals, serial killers... It was known as the "ultimate murder dungeon", and was a staple of spooky stories told around Halloween. Those inside were mostly exiled, their very beings refused for imaginary crimes. In short, the scapegoats. Paula finally snapped out of her thoughts, adjusting the strap of her guitar on her shoulders before walking forward, lugging her bike behind herself as loose gravel crunched under her sneakers and bike wheels.

She was on the porch in a few seconds, bike left leaning against the banister, standing before the entrance door. It was massive and grandiose, with frosted glass panes lining both sides and a complex dark wood frame with intricate carvings running up it. A large worn brass knocker was embedded in the wood, but it was dusty, obviously indicating it wasn't used often. A long jute rope hung from the porch, obviously old judging by the off-white color of its fibers.

Paula reached up, pulling the rope down with a sharp movement. A bell inside rang so loudly she could hear it. It was silent for a few seconds, before steps could be heard coming towards the door. It swung open slightly, an old door chain stopping it a few inches away from the frame. A groan of annoyance came, the door shutting again before swinging fully open. The woman behind the door had a pointed glare as she quickly scanned the porch, before settling on Paula and noticeably relaxing.