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by Rhyne Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Horror/Scary · #2052913
Opening scene for Ch. 1 of a WIP Horror looking for feedback if this is worth developing
"Come on Aaron, don't be a wimp, do this and I'll make it worth while." Liz said slyly, pulling her boyfriend by his wrist out of the truck and into the field.

"You always say that," Aaron replied as he slid out of the car. "What’s with you and all this urban legend stuff? We could be at a dozen different parties or bars, inside.....warm....drunk."

"Where's your sense of adventure? Doesn't the mystery of this place excite you? Just think of all those people, a big mass murder in our little town, gotta admit it's kinda cool." She replied as the pair walked up the drive to the old farmhouse.

"No, not really, but let's just get this over with," he told her, pulling the zipper on his jacket up to keep back the cool night air.

The pair worked their way through the overgrowth up to the side of the house. The overgrown and unkempt yard had long since been reclaimed by the thicket of maple and wild vines which had once covered the land, obscuring the home from the casual observer. It was a two story colonial style with a large wraparound deck and a series of outbuildings pushed up to the side. What had once been a white picket fence around the front of the home had yellowed and fallen into disrepair. Hanging from the gate post were a few remaining streamers of white bleached ribbon, all that remained of the bright yellow police tape from two decades ago.

"Damn, it's all boarded up and padlocked," Liz mumbled as she tried a side door and pushed against a window.

"Yeah, it's like the owners foresaw people trying to break into an infamous crime scene in a huge abandoned house, who would have figured that?" Aaron's sarcastic tone drove home how little he wanted to be there. However, he knew his fastest way home was to get her a look inside.

Aaron looked around until he found a large metal rod and jammed it against the inside edge of the door, with a hard shove he forced the door to lurch inward and open against the hasp.

"New lock, old hinges," he said with a smile as he shoved the door open and held it for her. 'I'm so getting laid for that.' He thought.

As they walked in, they found themselves standing in the stairwell. A set of stairs went up to the second floor, and an old set of cement stairs ran down to the basement. The air in the house was heavy and musty. A thick layer of dust and mold covered most of the room. Liz grabbed him by the arm and pulled him quickly into the living room.

It was all rather unimpressive in Aaron's eyes. Just a lot of dirt, dust, cobwebs, mold, and old furniture covered by dusty plastic sheeting. But, as he looked over at Liz he knew she was fascinated by being here. It was her one nerdy quirk he believed, her obsession with ghost stories, urban legends, and hauntings. As he leaned against the doorway he watched her wander the room, touching this and that and pulling out the occasional drawer here and there. She was clearly fascinated by her surroundings, muttering the occasional fact about some legend or rumor lowly, more to herself than to him.

Then he heard it. A faint scratching noise coming from the vent in the wall just a few feet from his head. " 'The fuck?" Aaron exclaimed as he jerked away from the wall and twisted to face the wall. For a moment he stood silent, holding his breathe, staring up at the aged, rusted, vent cover waiting for another sound. Then he felt the cold pressure on the back of his neck. A light cool pressure running up from the base of his neck, he felt himself begin to tremble.

"Thought you didn't believe in ghosts!" Liz said with a laugh into his ear. "You know old vents.. mice.. snakes.. Normal stuff."

Aaron felt blood rushing to his face, he hadn't wanted to be here to begin with, and some random noise had totally made him freeze up for no reason whatsoever. He wondered if this is how people feel In those crappy horror movies when the murderer they were sure was chasing them turns out to be a house cat... Of course, 90% of those people are brutally murdered pretty soon after... Maybe not the parallel to look for right now.

It had been over an hour since Aaron and Liz had forced their way into the abandoned farmhouse, and Aaron was tired of being here. Liz had ventured from the living room, through the kitchen, and was currently snooping through a dresser in a long unused bedroom telling about the gruesome things done to a young girl who had been found in this room.

"Are you done here?" Aaron asked, growing tired of this little adventure already.

"Fine. Just come with me to the basement, I want to take a picture of the monument, then we can get out of here." Liz told him as she stuck some piece of jewelry she had grabbed from the dresser into her pocket.

"What monument is in the basement of an old run down farm house?" Aaron asked, not really interested, but not wanting anymore prolonged silence than there had to be.

"There's supposed to be some monument Old Man Wheeler built down there to the devil, right before he went crazy and killed everybody. Papers kept it all quiet, but my mom still thinks the man was possessed when he started killing."

"Ok, let's just get this done with, we go you take your pictures, then we head back into town and go finish watching the game at Dave's and have a few beers." Aaron replied, just wanting to get through the rest of this and salvage some part of his Friday night.

She led him back to the doorway they had come in through, and for the first time he noticed the other narrow door set into the wall across from the door they had entered. The door was locked with a single Master lock on a thin chain ran between a hole in the door, and a hole in the wall by the door frame.

A quick twist on the chain and the rotten wood of the door gave way easily, the chain slacking against the door frame, as the warped wooden door squeaked open on rusted hinges. Liz passed around Aaron and started down the stairs, clearly excited, taking them two at a time and giggling into the darkness.

Aaron started down behind her, and caught up with her near the bottom of the stairway. Liz was frozen in place, and as he placed his hand on her shoulder he could feel her shaking, and the he realized why. The darkness they should have descended into wasn't darkness at all, but a dim glow of light could be seen, and not the glow of some recently forgotten bulb, left burning by a careless grounds keeper, the dancing shadows cast against the wall, and occasional flickers of darkness meant only one thing could be lighting the chamber below. Fire, whether candle or fireplace he had no way to know, but in that moment he felt a fear and darkness fill his very being the likes of which he had never experienced.

Sudden realization filled him with many thoughts. They had never been alone in this place, and as loud as they had been forcing doors open and examining the main floor their presence had to be known to any who would be here.

Aaron grabbed Liz by the wrist and pulled her up the stairs and towards the door. This time there was no objection as the pair darted up the stairs. The door was still open as they reach the top of the basement steps and turned out of the house.
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