Mind's Echo

Mark

"OOOOOWWW!!!!" Mark howled out his driver's side window, speeding down the darkened road just after sunset while trying to find the turn off for the old Clarkmann loony bin.

He knew it would be hard to see, but he still couldn't help speeding just a bit. It was in his blood to live life on the edge. He noticed the turnoff too late, naturally, and passed the road by just a smidge. His tires squealed a protest as he braked to a bone-jarring stop. He threw the car into reverse and slung a muscled, tattooed arm across the passenger seat. Chuckling, he backed the car up and turned down an old unused, dirt drive.

As he got closer, he saw that the place was very creepy looking, and he felt certain he was not going to be disappointed tonight. Shivering at the sight of the old place, he smiled and hooted, "OHHH, YEAH!!! WOOOOO!!! Gonna love it!!!"

He noticed another car already parked in front of the asylum. It looked like he wasn't the only one out for a thrill tonight. He whipped his own up next to it and parked. He sat there for a few moments, staring at the old place, thinking to himself, Well, I am here!!! FINALLY!!!

He got out of the car and headed toward the porch of the foreboding structure. He stood at the bottom of the steps for a time, with his heart pounding and his hair raised on the back of his neck. He grabbed the old banister and took his first step up, then paused, looking down. With a determined shake of his head, he smiled and continued up the steps.

Each step made sharp creaking sounds, perfect for the haunting atmosphere, until he arrived at the top. He walked across the porch toward the door, which was standing open a bit, letting a meager light out. He poked his head inside, fearless, and yelled, "HEY! ANYONE HERE?"