One Shots | Zarry |

The Key's Keeper Part 1

Harry's:

"Ha! He won't do it, he's chicken!" I look around at everyone in the circle, panic taking over. "C'mon Harry! It's just one day! 24 hours at the Malik Mansion!" I shook my head faster,"No, the place is haunted. I'm not riskin' it." One of the jocks walked over to me and lifted me by the collar. "Your gonna do this bet or I'll beat the shit outta ya mate. Got it?" I nod at him, not wanting to provoke him. He nods sharply and drops me. "Pack your bags, Curls," he sneers at me.

I drive myself to my apartment and unlock the door. Walking to my room I pack the bag, because I know that the jock wasn't lying about kicking my ass. I'm skinny, tall, and punch like a girl, I'd get pummeled. I hear a honk outside and look out my window. Guess they followed me home, shit. "Get your scrawny ass down here so you can spend the night with ghosty." I run out, but not before checking I had everything I needed.

He drove me to the mansion and pushed, literally pushed, me out of the car. "Bye nerd," he called out of the window of his car before speeding off. I look at the house, which is covered in moss and vines. I push the gate slightly and it creaks open. I slowly walk towards the house and enter. I walk to one of the torn couches and plop down. The house is lovely, just dust covered. I grab out a flashlight and start to head upstairs after a little lazing around. I plop my bag in one of the rooms and walk around for awhile until I hear a bang from within one of the rooms. I ignore it and walk a bit more.

"Get out."

I whip my head around to be faced with nothing but the dark. I shrug, my mind was just playing tricks on me.

"My mansion. Mine only."

Cold air slaps me in the face. I point my flashlight at door I front of my only to be met with a carving. 'Get out, Harold.' I scream in fright when I feel something cold touch the exposed skin of my neck. Suddenly I'm being held still by cold hands. "What do you want? Please don't rape me. I'm a virgin. Please," I cry, frightened.

"I want you to leave. I warned you," a voice sounds, I'm guessing that it's the voice to go with the hands. I feel cold metal tracing up and down my arms. "I-I can't leave." The knife stops tracing my arms, only to move to me stomach. "And why is that," the voice questions mockingly. The knife still tracing my stomach, one of the cold hands begins to twirl my hair. "P-please stop," I beg.
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Cliffhanger! I'm proud to say that I quite like how this turned out. It's not my best work but it's not absolute shit. Bye guys! -Chantael