This place had always creeped me out. After stupidly accepting a dare, my fear was, consequently, irrelevant and I had to preserve my dignity. It was an old house located at the end of the street that no one had lived in for years; the house seemed damn near as old as murder. I entered the old wooden house that had not really been maintained; mold, moss, rats, and rotted walls surrounded me, it was quite disgusting.
The specifics of the dare were that I had to stay here for an hour, so I figured while I was here I may as well explore and reassure myself that this place wasn't as creepy as it was disgusting. As such, I began to explore the great hall that I had entered; it was dark with a grand splitting staircase right in the middle with two hallways to either side of the staircase. I began with the right; following the right hand rule out of a maze if you will, and slowly I discovered each room: the kitchen, grand ballroom, quite a few guest rooms, just your typical everyday mansion. I continued on my journey throughout the house went upstairs and found the master bedroom, it was huge, quite empty though, seemed like it had been raided frequently. I continued following the right hand rule and went back downstairs, and my hour was nearly up, but I decided to continue exploring as I only had the left hallway remaining to explore. At the end of the hallway, however, was the first closed door I had ever encountered in the house. All of the other doors had been open, except this one. I turned the knob of the door and walked in continuing the right hand rule. The room was significantly less dusty than the others, surprising considering it had not been used and the door to it was closed so the draft could not even get to it. In the middle of the room was a table, a chair, and a pen, curious, I left the wall and sat in the chair; and that was my biggest mistake. The door slammed shut in front of me, I saw no windows in this room. It was completely empty with the exception of myself, the table, the pen, and the chair in which I sat. That soon changed, almost immediately after the door shut, a piece of paper slipped through with a lot of old cursive writing. I stood up and brought it over to the desk and began to investigate it; the old cursive made it a little more difficult to read but it stated, "You are trapped," thanks, Captain Obvious, "but there is a way out," intrigued I continued reading, "Simply, write the name of a person that you know on the marked line below, they die and you get to leave," I was shocked with horror after what I had read. I knocked and banged on the door asking if it was a trick. I didn't get a response. I walked back to the table and slumped down into the chair. Trading my life for another person I know. Who am I to determine who's life is worth less than mine. I began running through the people in the life who had wronged me, but my life had been pretty great, with the exception of that one guy who kept stealing my favorite pencil, but he isn't worth more than me. No one that I knew could have a life worth more or less than mine. I had a thought, the news, certainly there must be a criminal on death row who is going to die anyways, that's when two things came to mind: one, I didn't know any of them, two, I couldn't think of any anyways. How am I going to get out of here if I don't kill someone. I once again began searching throughout the entire room, trying to find some kind of hidden trapdoor or some secret lever to open the way out, but it was hopeless. The room had no minor imperfections for me to exploit. I tried picking up the chair and whacking the door, but it too was no use. Then I realized, wait, this paper was delivered, there couldn't possibly be a way for the person's name I write to die instantly. Someone has to do the deed, right. So what if I write my own name... the idea is brilliant. If I am here and they are out there waiting for me to return the paper and let me out, all I have to do is tackle the person and never let them know who's name I wrote. I mean, this is the best way, that way I don't value anybody else's life, and who's to say my life has value anyways. I have done nothing, I just go to school and have a few stupid friends who would love to hear this story, but other than that I have nothing. I picked up the pen and stood above the table and scribbled my own name on the paper and set it back underneath the door. It didn't move. Ok I thought maybe they just aren't back, yet. Maybe that's why they haven't let me out, yet. I was wrong, they saw it all right. I tried to pick the paper back up to see if I could change the name but it felt glued to the floor and not to mention it was in pen. I paced around the room, I tried using the pen and the chair, by taking them apart, to force the door open or something. I banged on the door for hours, no one replied.
It took ten days for everything to fade to black.
