House Of Death

House Of Death

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Nov 25, 2021
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Fiction
Horror
this is a longer version of smth i did in class but the description: a tourist went to a small town and heard the legend about it and which they wanted to know if it was real or fake, bur little did they know it would not be a happy ending Tw: death, meantions of death as well •u•
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#409
oldhouse
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The air smelled of gasoline and death. That's what woke me first. Not the searing pain in my side or the impossible heat coming from somewhere behind me. No, it was the smell. And then the memories hit me like the bus hit the tree. And I was rolling down the side of a mountain, surrounded by ten other screaming kids and three panicked adults. All of which had a ninety six percent chance of death. My eyes were open. My emerald eyes, so rare that only two percent of the population had them. And my throat was burning, and my skin was tingling. And all I could think about was the probability that I was dying. Scattered around me I knew were twelve other people with a ninety nine percent chance of already being dead. And I didn't look around to find out. Because I knew I was one hundred percent right.

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