The Curse of the Werewolves

CH14: FINDING THE JOURNAL.

Note: Remember this book may have a lot of mistakes about past perfect and future tense since it's in its original form. This book was written by me when I was a teenager so I hope you'll understand.

"H-Hello?" I stammered. I cocked my head to a side and glared at the window from where the sound came. "I-Is there anyone there?" I croaked, my throat running dry again. I started to grip more hard. So hard, that the sweat trickled down my fingers in beads of perspiration.

The same window rattled, and the branches of the giant black trees outside also rattled. A branch touched the window, and then from the wind's pressure, it started to cross the glass with a loud screech. I wiped the sweat off my brow as I began to regain my composure. "Phew- You should stop being so scared Hannah... What will do ahead in your life if you start getting scared by silly little things?" I scolded myself.

Shaking my head, I strolled over to the strange-looking door. I had never seen such a strange and bizarre-looking door in my life, but something about it made me think that this door was specifically established for a significant or a special purpose. Now... Of course, I did not have the answer to all of my surmise, that for what purpose this door was assembled in the place of the plain door made from timber which led to the "piano room".

"I need to examine this door... Hmmm..." I muttered as I gave the door a light push, and to my surprise, it opened on the inside just enough that one could call it an "ajar" door. The door about which I had comprehended of being somewhat of a puzzle door turned out to be already opened, and believe me, I wasn't expecting this.

I adjusted my glass- Hey... Wait! Have I ever mentioned in the previous chapters that I wear glasses? I suppose not, because of how embarrassed I am to even mention them... Well, let's not go into depth about my glasses...

I adjusted my glasses and then pressed my palms against the furnished wood of the door; the wood was smooth and utterly cold to touch, and it generated a strange tingling up to my fingers. The door was heavy, but my strength was mighty. Increasing my force on the door, I pushed it hard. It created a loud sinister sound in the environment; the sound you hear in those creepy black-and-white horror movies when the protagonist opens the door of a horrifying castle or a dark dungeon. In that case, I was like the protagonist of a horror movie or a gothic horror novel entering into a castle or a dungeon. The difference was just my story had werewolves in it. Vicious werewolves.

The door grunted loudly and then crashed open on the inside, colliding with the wall and publishing a mysterious echo through the walls. I remembered that I had promised myself not to be too loud before I reached the manor, but it seemed like I was breaking that promise second by second. Every time I tried to be as quiet as possible something happened which made noise in the house.

I entered the piano room and gasped. Although I shouldn't have gasped, since the house was already a mess, I was shocked to see how MUCH mess had been made here in the piano room. The tables and the chairs had been turned upside down; Vases. Glass Bottles. Mirrors. Windows. All of the things made from glass had been shattered, broken down and arranged in shimmering pointy heaps.

From the openings which were once windows, reached in a pale moonlight from an ashen moon, bathing everything in its pale dreamy glow.

There was a small flame still blazing into the fireplace, sitting on the burned black wood, crackling and sizzling and sending smoking red embers in the air. Nonetheless, the room was still severely cold, despite I was wearing a full-sleeve shirt underneath a baggy sweater. I shivered.

I saw that the piano was still in one piece. There was a "musical notes book" lay open sitting on the top of the piano and a worn-out melted candle stood next to it. The white tiles weren't white but were of a sick black colour due to the formidable dust which covered every single key. I had a strong urge to run my finger through the keys and wipe the dust off. But that was not happening.

"I so-wanna leave right now", I muttered. "... never thought that this place would turn so grotesque in a couple of d*mn years-!"

I felt a strong tingly sensation at the back of my neck. A strong picky feeling which you get when your mind wants to think that someone is watching you from behind. I gasped, and then quickly turned around, finding nothing but deep darkness.

Maybe the dark is playing tricks on me, I told myself. Or is there something that is watching me from the dark...?

I continued my investigation for the journal, ignoring the grim sentiment. Whenever I have to search for something, cupboards are my priority to check - double-check - before leaving and then searching other places. So making up my mind, I went towards the black wooden cupboard which had claw marks slashed across the rusty wood. A life-sized plushy stuffed doll stared at me with empty button-eyes from the top of the cupboard. It had its mouth crossed into a twisted evil smile... Or so I would like to call it evil...

Its eyes were just randoms buttons; still, they made me feel uncomfortable. Maybe because the buttons were red and were too big... Or maybe because this doll was creepy... Or maybe-

Grabbing the cold door handle, I opened the cupboard harder than I intended, causing an oppressive, repulsive cloud of dust and mould to blow onto my face and make me hiccup.

Inside, there was nothing. The plain wall of the cupboard had a small cobweb weaving in the middle with a small white spider hanging in between, and a fly was crawling steadily towards the web. Surely, the fly was going to become dinner for the spider. Haha. I swapped the fly away as fast as possible, saving it from the spider. I was sure that the spider { in its bizarre mind } had cursed me... Or had even thought of me like a sucker... for making its dinner run away.

The fly droned quickly past my face.

Anyways, I focused on the real problem at hand. There was nothing useful in the cupboard except for-

"Hey!" I cried sharply. I twisted the knob of the tiny drawer located beneath the cupboard and pulled it.
It didn't open.
Pulled again.
It didn't open.
It wouldn't budge.
It was locked.

"Of COURSE it's LOCKED!" I groaned. "I NEED to find a god*mn KEY!" But then I raised an eyebrow. "...Or maybe I won't be needing a key... Of course!"

I quickly unzipped my satchel and then grabbed my hairpin which I always keep with me just in case. Although I barely use it, as I mostly wear a sleek ponytail, still I keep it with me. I zipped my satchel and then inserted the hairpin into the lock, smiling triumphantly to myself.

"Please work! Please work!"

This was my first time opening a lock by a hairpin. I had mostly seen in movies that they open the locks by twisting and turning the hairpin into the lock and then - POOF! The door opens effortlessly. I also twisted and turned and bounced the hairpin into the lock. I could hear something rattle inside it. I couldn't guess what it was. I had never opened a lock before with a hairpin.

Click!

The drawer opened. It had worked!
It had WORKED! Yes! I was pretty impressed with myself for being so good on the first try.

With unsteady and quick hands, I grabbed the knob of the drawer, but my fingers slipped because of my hurriedness. Making myself steady and calm, I again grabbed the knob and pulled the drawer. This time, the drawer did not budge. It did not disappoint. Instead, it opened easily. I lowered myself a little, and inside I saw...

...the journal!

I pumped my fists in the air. The journal's skin was made of pure leather; a black cross made out of fine copper was established across the cover, next to a golden complicated stylish journal lock. The journal lock was no problem for me now, and I was happy in both ways: 1) I had successfully found my grandma's journal and 2) Not only I had found the journal but had also learned a new lock-opening trick!