Haunted Cliche

The dark wood steps creak and moan as I carefully step up each one. Through the cracks I see little glowing eyes that quickly scurry as they hear me walking over them. My shaking hand reaches into a cobweb as I try to grip the black steel railing. As I get closer to the big red door there are butterflies in my stomach. I look up into the sky and try to find some peace before I enter the old mansion. The black clouds cover the full moon as if they are keeping a dark secret. The wind whistles as it blows the last couple crispy leaves off the tree that reaches it's hands out pointing the way to the house. I take a deep breath and grip the cold handle of the door and push. It opens, slowly, as if it hasn't been touched in years. I glance into the dark room as second thoughts come into my mind. As I step into the quiet house all sources of light leave me. The door slams shut behind me and my heart pounds like a drum. I look around the room as my eyes adjust to the darkness. I clench my teeth as I remember all the dark rumours about this house. The moon casts the only source of light through the shattered glass windows allowing me to see the master furniture and the dead fireplace. The air is thick and dusty causing me to have shorter breaths. I have a feeling that I am not alone.