The Old Mansion

The old mansion sat at the end of the street, looming over the other houses like a dark cloud. Its windows were boarded up, and the paint had long since peeled away, leaving the walls a sickly gray color. No one ever went near it, not even the bravest of kids.

But one day, a group of teenagers decided to explore the mansion. They broke through the boarded-up windows and crept inside, their flashlights illuminating the dusty, cobweb-covered rooms.

As they explored the mansion, they began to feel a sense of unease. The air was thick with a musty smell, and strange noises seemed to come from the walls. But they pushed on, eager to see what secrets the mansion held.

Soon, they came to a room that was different from the others. It was filled with old furniture and dusty paintings, but there was something else in the room, something that made their skin crawl. It was a figure, sitting in the corner of the room, shrouded in shadows.

At first, they thought it was a statue, but then it moved. Slowly, it stood up, revealing a face that was twisted with anger and hatred. The teenagers screamed and tried to run, but the figure was too fast. It chased them through the mansion, its footsteps echoing through the halls.

Finally, they made it to the front door, but it was locked. They pounded on it, screaming for help, but no one came. The figure was getting closer, and they could feel its hot, fetid breath on their necks.

Just when it seemed like all was lost, the door creaked open. They burst through it and ran down the street, never looking back. They never spoke of the mansion again, but they knew that something evil lurked inside, waiting for its next victim.