The House On The Hill

Today
It rained, rained for the first time in years and it was colder than ice, as though the world was placed in a freezer, a sensation unusual for this time of year, but till it rained anyway. There was house, a broken, burnt, old house that was being washed away in the rain, the trees were dead and swaying their life less branches through the air. The bushes were dead too, and the grass. The house was now abandoned and the air smelt of rot. There was a screaming to be heard in the wind as it whipped the rain against the house.

There was a boy of seven, sitting cross-legged in front of this house, it was night now, and the boy had been sitting there for hours. He had no name. It was his birthday tomorrow and he always sat in front of this house on the eve of his birthday, the reason for this he didn't know, he only heard whispers screaming at him every time he came past, whispers of a happier time. The boy didn't have a lot of friends, he had none actually. Everyone stayed away from him, weaved around him as he sat on the pathway. The child solely wore black and had black hair too, hair that was an inky shade of black, darker than night, his skin, white as snow. The only colour on him were his eyes, the boy had the most stunning, piercing blue eyes. They were the eyes of an angel, bluer than the sky and hard as diamonds. He was by all means gorgeous, but everyone was simply terrified of him.

You see, the boy supposedly murdered his entire family, burnt them to ashes, but the evidence was never substantial enough to send him away. It happened on this very night fourteen years ago. The child was the sole survivor. Many asked him how he could do such a thing, he had always said that he had no idea what they were talking about. This was, in a way, true as it thought of it was so traumatising the child had wiped it from his memory, he had been lashed with nightmare for the rest of he life, he just didn't understand why as he couldn't remember the event. The people understood his reply as denial, even he didn't want to believe he had don't it. That's the thing about people though, isn't it? Once they have been told one thing they latch onto it and even if they are told the truth afterwards they seem to be incapable of believing it.The house was once beautiful, thriving, it was a home to be proud of, and it now screamed of better days.
1889

A family moved into a gorgeous house that stood proudly on a hill, they were the Noir family, moved over from France to live in America. There was a mother, a father, and two children, a son just gone seven and a daughter of three. The family had only just moved in when the son, René, started acting strangely, screaming that there were voices talking to him, voices that wouldn't leave him alone, voices telling him to do bad things and leave the house, he continually went into the basement and sat there, screaming. The family put him in an asylum for almost a year, giving him excruciatingly painful treatment, the scream that tormented the child in that asylum were excessive and horrific.

René was released back into his family on they eve of his eighth birthday. The family was gathered in the living room of the great house at eight o'clock when René stood claiming he was getting a glass of water, this was not a strange thing as on that day maid was out as her sister was having a child. The boy snuck back in the living room and not a soul noticed, instead of a glass of water René carried a barrel filled with gasoline. The child poured it around the room behind the family, still unseen, until the child poured it over his mother, father and sisters heads. "I TOLD YOU WE COULDN'T LIVE HERE, I TOLD YOU WE NEEDED TO LEAVE!" René screamed. "YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO ME! WHY DIDN'T YOU LISTEN?! YOU WILL BURN!"

The boy lit a match and threw in at the family. They screamed as the room went up in flames. The last image that shot the parents brains was the sight of René, dousing himself in the remaining gasoline, and screaming with deadly flames in his eyes.
2009

The Schwartz family stood at the gates of their brand new house.
They waltzed into their home, it was all clean and new, well it wasn't exactly "new" but the living room had been renovated.
The seven-year old son, Robbie, ran straight up into the front door.
"Ho, ho slow down there honey" said the mother, Charlotte, as she picked her son up off the porch.
"Sorry mum" was all Robbie said as he ran through the door way and into the house.
Charlotte shook her head and followed him.

It was a massive house, there was the living room to the right of the doorway and a staircase to the left, the kitchen was placed behind the living room and the dining room was across to the left of that. Up the staircase were they four bedrooms, an office and the drawing room. There was one bathroom on the second floor and one in between the staircase and the dining room on the first.
There was also a door under the stairs that led to the basement.
Robbie took interest in this door but it was locked. Jensen, the boy's father, was walking past at the time so Robbie asked him to open it. Robbie went down the stairs that led into the basement and when he got to the bottom he flicked the light on.

Something flashed in his face, Robbie screamed, the lights went out and he bolted up the stairs to the door only to find it locked. Robbie screamed again, crying hysterically and blacked out. His body slammed against the door and Charlotte heard it, she opened the door and Robbie fell at her feet. She screamed.

The next day Robbie woke up and discovered the source of his black out and the excruciating pain he felt. His face had three bloody gashes on one side, the bruising was extensive too.
Robbie stumbled slowly out of his room, then down the staircase and into the living room. It was here where he found his mother crying, she looked up and when she laid eyes on him she only cried more.
"My boy! My beautiful boy! Look at you!" she screamed through tears.And it was true, Robbie was indeed beautiful. With black hair, piercing blue eyes, sharper than a blade and skin so white it was ghostly. Then another crying rang through the house, a child's crying, the crying of three year old. A beautiful little girl, she had her mothers blond hair and olive skin, but her fathers stunning green eyes. Her name was Aurora and she was crying because she was standing in the doorway of the living room watching her mother's tears run down her face.This caused Charlotte to stop crying as she didn't want her baby girl crying because of her, so instead she made then lunch, it was only the three of them as Jensen was at work but Charlotte made a massive lunch anyway. After lunch Aurora went off to her room to play with her toys, Robbie went into the front garden and Charlotte sat in the living room watching TV and her sobs could still be heard through the house.

Robbie was going to climb the biggest tree in the garden but his face hurt to much to move so all he did was sit on the path in front of the house.
A boy of eleven sat next to him, it startled Robbie as he hadn't seen him come over.
"You've got to get out you know" the boy said.
Robbie said nothing.
"I'm serious dude, leave you cant staying this house any more. Last year a boy my age went into that house, he told his brother he was going to go in the basement, do you think he came out? Never go to the basement"
Robbie still said nothing.
The boy stood.
"Your going to die you know man, don't say I didn't warn you"
Robbie still said nothing and the boy walked down the street and away from the house.
Robbie then got up and walked down the street the street trying to find the boy but he was nowhere to be seen. There were only two other people on the street, he asked both if they'd seen the boy, one of them had no idea what he was talking about, and the other said he was a good boy and that he had probably returned to his little hidey-hole. After hearing the second persons response, a little old lady that Robbie thought was one hundred and three, he turned to look down the street and wonder where the little hidey-hole could be. No finding a conclusion to that he turned to ask the old lady, only she had completely disappeared.

Robbie walked slowly with his head down and hos shoulders slumped and sat in front of the house again. He had been there for ten minutes when his mother came out the front door looking shaken.
"Robbie dear, I was looking for you" she said.
"Hey mum? Can we stay at aunt Margret's and uncle Maurice's?" the little boy asked his mother.
"No honey we can't they are out of town and we would have to wait for dad to get home from work anyway"
"When is he getting home?" "Around eight" "Okay" the child replied and his mother left and went inside again after calling for him to come in soon. Robbie was incredibly mature for his age, most people thought he was at least 12 when he talked, he was freakishly smart too and he sat on the path for another five minutes before the little old lady came past and stood for a minute next to him. "It's a dangerous house your living in you know? I lived there for years, my husband left me in that house, he just drifted away, gone forever"
Robbie went to reply then found that the old lady had disappeared again.