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Writer's pictureMatt Gorrell

The Manor Part 2

As I enter the desolate household the wind brings in a few leaves with me. I look down at them then slowly tilt my head up to observe the tomb of a household.


It resembles a crypt in it’s decrepit state. There are cobwebs as far as the eye can see and I observe a massive mahogany balcony ahead of me. Halfway expecting some manor dweller to be waiting for me with his hands behind his back.


Instead no one waited for me. Not my family. Not my one true love. No one…


They all left me saying I’m going nowhere with my dead end pizza gig. Truth is, I believed them. I loved my city too much to leave it all behind.

I tried to one time but as soon as I glanced in that rearview mirror, nostalgia gave my stomach knots. All the memories of my glory days in high school. The jankey old dinner I had my first kiss. All the local bonfires for the football team. I couldn’t let that all go…


It cost me my livelihood seeing I was a leach to my fiancé before I left. I lived under her roof, drove her car. When she left me I had nothing left. Not a penny to my name.


Now I’m here in this ghost of an old house. Searching for an owner that likely never existed in the first place.

Who would have known ghosts could order pizza? Hell I saw the concept once in a Twilight Zone episode but I did not believe it for a second. My eyes continue to rise until they meet a cobweb engrossed chandelier, tilting back and forth in the wind. Hanging by a thread and threatening to fall with a gentle breeze.

I too felt that paper thin…


A perpetual feeling I was only distracted from when I heard an old cell phone ring throughout the house. I look down from the chandelier and tilt my head to the side looking down the main corridor below the balcony.


It continues to ring so I call out a response.


” Hello?! Is anyone home?! I have your pizza here. I can leave it by the door with you want. “


I set the pizza by the front door and open it, scattering a few more leaves inside. I turn towards the vacant corridor once more and take a deep breath in. I shut the door behind me and pick up the pizza.


I approach the narrow corridor looking up at the teetering chandelier above me. I gulp and my Adams apple traverses down my throat.


I continue towards the phone. By now it is in sight resting on a small wooden table in the median of the corridor. On the opposite end are blue drapes that promote the thought of something resting behind it and a blood red stained glass window reminiscent of one I red about in my English class.


I always hated English class. Like why are we reading about all these dead dudes anyway? All they left behind is a couple of stories and transcripts?


I always hated stories... Would much rather live in the present moment than read about the past. In fact, I hate stories in general. Hence why I begrudgingly made this blog post.


Scary stories the most. While most kids loved to scare each others pants off sitting around a campfire I would much rather be b.sing or looking up at the stars. Some might have even called me the weird kid. A fitting title seeing I only had three friends to my name that left like the rest.


Now I truly was alone, or so I thought. Delivering pizza to a dead man...


If you are imagining me rolling my eyes right now that is what I am in fact doing. I hate my job. I hate living paycheck to paycheck. But what I hate most of all is coming home to a house as vacant as this manor.


Everyone that I once loved in my life was now more than a ghost. A memory. A tragic one at that.


I don't mean to moap but my life is far from great. Look no further than this errand to prove that.


I am only but a few feet say from the ringing cellphone. It reminds me of my grandmas with it's thin layer of dust and cobwebs.


As I approach it I notice a spider crawl up the side of it and rest on the top. Poised to jump up at me.


I lean over and blow it off as well as a cloud of dust I inevitably choke on. Once I finally recover I hear the black phone give out what sounds to be it's final ring and answer the phone wheezing.


“ Yes? “


A moment of silence is accompanied by deep heavy breathing.


“ Look, if this is a prank so help me God... “


I all of a sudden get a piercing migraine and see a vision of the homeowner doing the same in a candle lit corridor screaming into the phone. So much so he spits into the receiver.


I lower the phone and cradle my head. After a moment I raise it up again to hear.


“ You’re going to die here you scum of the earth. Buah, Ha, Ha, Ha!”


“ Look, if you don't hang up right now... “


“ You’ll what? Pizza boy. Don't get comfortable this is my fucking home and you're merely a guest. No more than a servant. Ha, Ha, Ha! “


The phone clicks and beeps it's final song. I grab my aching head and set the phone back in its cradle.


Just then, I hear what sounds like oil spilling out aside me. I look over to the widow with my hand resting on my brow, pushing back my hair.


Just then black ash falls from the sky and I hear the old children's song.


“ Ashes... Ashes... We all fall dead! “


Another migraine hits me and I moan in pain. I grab my bent over head and have another vision. Children in sundresses dancing jubliantly in the summer sun around my corpse which is bleeding out. The corpse reaches out an arm and tries to let out a breath saying.


“ Beware the manor... “


The corpse sounds more like my father than myself and before I know it the sounds are gone. As are the ashes, and the children's song. I raise up my head and looks down the hall.


For a moment I am engrossed in complete utter silence... Until I hear the oily sound once more. My hear beats out of my chest as sweat perpetuates my brow. At the end of the hall, a foggy hand appears in the window.


I approach it slowly in a side-step manor holding my head with one hand and holding out the other.


Once I am in front of the window I place my hand on the foggy hand before it dispipates and I hear the sound of bones cracking behind me.


I look up at myself then above my shoulder to see the owner of the manor. Except with his face torn off and pitch black eyes.


It shrills a horrible shrill and I fall on my ass. I back up from the window in a frantic motion and try to catch my breath when I am a few feet away.


It is of no use however because a ink slowly drips down from the blue drapes and morphs into something wicked. It begins to take form starting from it's toes, building up to it's head. However once it reaches the torso it collapse like a tower and begins to crawl towards me.


It takes on the presence of the figure I saw in the window and shrills as it crawls towards me. It's mouth reaches it's chest with it's is disloged jaw. I scamper up to my feet and turn around and run.


I sprint towards the open door but a strong breeze pushes it in and it slams shut.


I stop in front of it falling back. I stand up and slam on it screaming out.


“Help! Somebody help!”


I look back at the creature approaching me and try the door knob. I jerk back and forth until I am blown back with the door, falling on my ass again. I quickly get up and run out of the door. I slam it shut behind me.


I slowly back up from the door and push back my hair. I have a vision of the pizza and the home owners dismal frown in a collosal painting I could only believe was in the house somewhere.


I blow back my hair with a breath and slowly approach the door again. I push it open with one gentle push. It falls in with the wind revealing a once empty household. I poke my head in and look side to side to see... nothing.


I slowly walk back in and the door slams shut behind me...



Till next time.


Matt Gorrell


 



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