What he saw then was terrible enough to make his worst imaginings of the thing in the cellar look like sweet dreams; what he saw destroyed his sanity in one clawing stroke.
-It, Stephen King
There’s nothing that beats the thrill of not knowing what lurks around the corner, but still knowing that you’ll get out just fine. This Halloween, you’ll be going to a haunted house with Cole and there’s bound to be a crowd.
You and Cole gather in the entryway with a rather large group of other thrill-seekers. Inside the house, it’s cold, it’s dark, and it’s quiet. These hallways seem to go on forever.
A man with blond hair and dark blue eyes begins to lead your group. “I’ll be your guide tonight. Stay close,” he warns, “this is a very large, confusing house, you could get lost.” His words send shivers up your spine, you could get lost. And he’s absolutely right, there are closets that open into solid walls, doors that drop into nowhere, stairs that dead end, and no echoes. There are no echoes, even though there should be in such a vast, open space. You start getting antsy, What if this is the haunted house I never leave? Cole seems to sense your uneasiness and gives your hand a gentle squeeze. The two of you are near the front of the group, about five more people are behind you and three in front.
Someone opens a door and peers down at the empty drop. You feel uncomfortable, remembering that you were strictly instructed not to touch anything. You look again see the door swinging lightly and slowly, as if swaying in the wind. There’s no one behind you.They’re probably just still looking at the other room.
Your guide leads you into another room, where there’s a large window in the floor. You look down and see that right below you appears to be a kitchen. Someone brushes you from behind and you shiver. It’s so cold and quiet. You wait for your guide to start talking about this room, but he’s gone.
“Cole?”
“Yeah?”
“What happened to the guide?”
“What guide?”
“The tour guide.”
Cole furrows his brow at you, “There was no tour guide, Ali. This is a self-guided tour.”
“Oh.” There was no tour guide. You look down through the window and see a small boy with blond hair and dark blue, gleaming eyes sitting on the kitchen floor, looking up, and grinning. His fingers are stained red.
