Johnsonville Manor

Johnsonville Manor
By sjd_write

Creeeaak…

I slowly opened the door, dust billowing around me. I coughed and turned on my flashlight, looking around the front room. Let’s get this over with, I thought to myself as I started to walk forward.

I couldn’t believe I had gotten myself into this mess. Every year, a kid from the high school was selected to go into Johnsonville Manor, the supposedly “haunted” house in the town. Lucky me, this year my name was picked out of the hat. I didn't believe in this blasphemy one bit, but all the other kids forced me to go. If it were up to me, I would be playing XBOX with my best friend, Jack, but no, I was stuck walking through an abandoned house. Great way to be spending my night.

I walked on, looking around. Everything I saw was covered in dust. The tables, the cabinets, the fan on the ceiling, everything. I coughed again as I walked past the kitchen. This was not good for my asthma.

My flashlight shone on a doorway leading to another room, so I headed that way. I entered the dining room, my eyes sweeping the floor, looking for mice or other rodents-

Clunk!

“Ow!” I yelled, stumbling back. When I was looking down, I had walked straight into a low-hanging chandelier, which was now swinging back and forth. I stopped it with my hand and continued exploring.

Suddenly, as I walked through the hallway, I saw a dark figure in the mirror. I turned around and saw nothing, though. Just one of the kids outside playing a joke, I thought, reassuring myself. Still, I was kind of spooked.

I walked into what seemed to be a study. There was a big, wooden desk and a giant, comfy looking chair. I was getting tired, so I decided to sit down. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

Out of nowhere, I felt a pair of cold, bony hands massage my shoulders. I bolted up and looked around. But no one was there. Who could this be? I thought, thinking rapidly. There’s no one in the house. Is this house really haunted, like the other kids say it is?

I exited the study and walked into the bedroom, the last room that I was required to go in. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just a bed, dresser, and a nightstand. But then as I looked more closely, I saw a dark bloodstain slowly spreading on the bed. I went over and peered and the stain. How was it growing? I wondered. There’s nothing-

Suddenly, I was pushed onto the bed. I screamed and flipped myself around. Above me was a figure in a dark robe, his face hidden by the shadows. In his hand, he held a long, pointy blood-covered knife. He raised it in the air.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. “NO! PLEASE!” But it was all for naught, for the cloaked man brought his knife down again and again into my abdomen and chest. Oh, my God, the pain was excruciating, I could feel myself bleeding out, I was going to die, I could feel-

Then I was at the entrance of the room again, as I was a few minutes ago. I blinked, and then looked down. My upper body was unscathed, with no sign of any wound or cut. I looked up at the bed. The bloodstain was gone, replaced with a note. It read:

Don't tell anybody what you saw here tonight. OR ELSE.

I walked out of the house, stunned. Immediately, all the kids who had been waiting for me outside rushed up to me and started bombarding me with questions. “What happened?” “Did you see anyone?” “What did you see?” “Were you scared?”

I didn’t answer any of their questions. I just kept walking until I got home.

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Ever since that night, for the past couple of years, people have been asking me about what happened that fateful night at Johnsonville Manor. I just tell them that I don’t want to talk about it. Because if I tell them what happened, I’ll be disobeying the note. And if I disobey the note, I have a feeling I’ll get an unexpected visit from a very unwanted guest, and that guest is the cloaked man.