Hell House

Hell House (A short horror story)

Zach, Noah, and I stood in front of the centuries old, rundown house on the end of Willsbroth Avenue.

Regret sank in, like sharp claws digging into my skin.
We really shouldn't have come here.

"L-Let's go back," Noah said with a voice as shaky as his body. I thoroughly agreed with him, even with the fact that it meant for us each to have $200 less in our bank accounts. After signing a bet with a boy from our school named James Brock, us three agreed to take a picture of the infamous Hell House's basement, and he would pay us each $200 for the photo. But if we tapped out, and didn't provide him a photo, we would have to pay him the money.

What people around our town call the 'Hell House', is the oldest building in our city. The wooden structure was collapsing from the poor worn-down foundation, after standing for 246 years. The stone pathway was now replaced with moss and weeds, growing and fitting in between every available gap. The windows that were once glass, are now boarded up with oak planks, to prevent anyone from seeing in the house. The roof used to have shingles, however they were long gone, and the only thing remaining on that roof was splotches of black and brown who-knows-what. The house stood by itself, all alone. Nothing else for a few miles around, which made it even more petrifying.

"Come on Noah, we agreed to do this, and I don't want to lose 200 bucks by getting too spooked on just a myth." Zach said, and rolled his eyes. The myth that Zach was referring to, was the fact that apparently someone got decapitated in that house, which originated the name, Headless House. However, that myth was "debunked" a long time ago, and the name changed to Hell House.

"It's not just the rumour, it's the fact that it looks like it came out of a horror movie, or a Creepypasta book. It's a real life nightmare looking at that thing." He exclaimed, and fiddled with his hands.

"He's right. Zach, can we please just go home? So what if we lose 200 bucks, I don't care." I said. "And it's not like we have to it today. James said to get the photo in by Monday, and it's only Saturday. We can do it tomorrow."

"It's not just about the money, Asher, it's about the fact that our reputation will be ruined-"

"We don't even have a reputation to begin with! We're losers!" I exclaimed, and Noah nodded.

"Ok, well..." Zach bit on his lip and folded his arms. "If that's your excuse, then we'll be even more... loser-y without those pictures. We'll be known as the three dorks who were too scared to enter an old house. And besides, if we get the photo today, it's one less thing to worry about tomorrow. Plus, it's not like you guys can go anywhere, we live 25 miles away, and I'm the only one that can drive." He smirked, and jingled his set of car keys.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, and glared at him. After a long and exaggerated sigh, I spoke up. "Fine then, whatever. Let's just go." I mumbled, and pushed open the gate. The unpleasant squeak of rusty metal against metal drove a chill up my spine.

Stepping onto the un-kept lawn, the overly dried grass crunched underneath my shoes. I looked back, with Zach right behind me, Noah hesitating at first, but eventually following as well. The gate then slammed shut, and the three of us jumped.

"I... didn't do that..." Noah said breathlessly, with all the colour drained from his face.

With a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, I slowly continued up the path.

"Probably just the... wind." Zach said, even though all of us knew that it was certainly not the wind.

There were five old stairs that lead up to the front door, the wood chipping and moldy. Years worth of rain and snow taken its toll. I stepped on the first one, and shifted some weight on top to test it's stability. It seemed to hold, so I proceeded to carefully head up the stairs. I got to the top, and gave them a thumbs-up. Zach went up as well, with Noah following close behind.