My Short Stories

Haunted

You start to get closer to the building. You don't know why you're here; it's been abandoned for years, right? There hasn't been anyone here for a very long time, you're certain of that. Or are you?
'I grabbed my son and some of his things and got out of there as soon as possible'
Her voice rings in your ears. Poor her. She could never get over the death of her son. You remember it like it was yesterday, them walking empty-handed out of the untouched bedroom that used to belong to her son, claiming there wasn't a single item that had been touched since he died. But she'd seemed pretty certain that she had.
'Maybe they made you think that way. Maybe they changed it. It must have been them. My son was terrified of them'
Her voice rings in your ears. Who else could have been there? What else could have been there? Who are they? The building stands majestic and tall, as if it either didn't know or didn't care about what had happened there on that day. It appears larger and larger as you get closer, until you're completely overwhelmed by its sheer size.
Who are they?
The fallen leaves of autumn crunch under your feet like the bones of past victims have corroded and have been lying there for decades.
Who are they?
The cold wind bites at your face as if warning you not to go closer to the mansion.
Who are they?
The shadows chase you, trying to get you to turn back and run away.
Who are they?
Your hand clasps around the icy doorknob. It freezes your fingers through your gloves as you raise your other hand to knock loudly on the front door.
Who are they?
The knock echoes around the house and the door swings open with an anguished creak.
Who are they?