Bob clutches his chest, stumbling backwards and nearly having a heart attack. First a zombie then a half dead guy?
"Wh-who are you?" Bob asked.
They creepy, wrinkly old man smiled. Bob cringed st his bad teeth.
"I am Alabaster Groony the third." He replied then glared at Bob. "And you're a youngster that doesn't belong here."
Bob narrowed his eyes curiously. "Well, Mr. Third, why shouldn't I go in there? ANd what's an old man like you doing here anyways? Don't you have some coffin to go back to?"
Alabaster gave a hoars laugh. "You've got a smart mouth, kid." He grinned evillly. "I was the butler of the family who owned this mansion."
Bob blinked. "Butler...? But this place has been abandoned for one hundred years!" He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Either the mental hospital is looking for you or you really need to go back to your coffin."
Alabaster chuckled and made his way over with his walking stick. Bob backed away from him and pressed against the door, pluging his nose. He smells like a rotting carcus! Or that's his breath.
"Well, brat, you can either heed my warning and leave or listen to a story that'll turn your dreams to nightmares and push you on the brink of insanity."
Copyright 2000 - 2025 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 5:48am on Apr 18, 2025 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
