…..I open the doors that let out an eerie shrill as they open up. I step inside to be astounded by the sight. Not only has the oily demon that chased me earlier dissipated, all the lights are on. I step forward into foyer.
The large doors slam behind me causing me to gape at the sight. I take a large gulp in and turn to the dimly lit manor in front of me. I step forward and lighting crackles just above me. I look up to see a tree‘s skeletal hand smacking a glass pane as it’s shilloute is illuminated by the lightning strike.
The strike itself looks as if it struck the roof so as Zueses crackle rings throughout the night, I count.
“ One, one thousand… two one thousand… “
Again I am embraced in a stillness reminiscent of the grave.
That’s two miles right?
I think to myself thinking back to my first storm that scared me to death as a kid. As I hid under the dining room table, my father would always come underneath and reassure me with his counting method. I thought it was bogus until we tracked a lightning bolt up to my doorstep.
As I begrudgingly moved towards the middle corridor I noticed a door at the end of the hall opening back and forth with a squeak as quiet as a mouses.
I look back to the cold pizza by the door and am tempted to turn around.
I hear a swift breeze move behind me. I hold my breath but slowly gulp as I turn to gawk at a terrifying anomaly. All the lights in the hall are out as are the ones in front of it.
I turn to run back to the front door. I sprint as fast as I can until I run into something. Or someone…
I fall to my feet and look up to the figure that stands sentinel. I rub my head as my vision comes back into focus to see a tall, pencil thin man.
He is dressed in a black cloak fastened with a chain. His hair, slicked back, his skin, whiter than the snow. He spoke in a deep booming voice that echoed throughout the manor.
“Good Evening Mr. Evans. I've been expecting you... “
Till next time.
- Matt Gorrell