" The Mansion "

I'm not sure what to feel right now.



I can't say that my experience was spooky or terrifying, it was gross and confusing really.



Anyway, It was like a week ago, October's reign was still strong and spooky stories and rituals about ghosts and demons and stuff like that was at it's peak.



Me, for the most part was just too busy with work and occasionally, went to parties, and boy, this one went out of control. In my perspective, anyway, they were just about to play spin the bottle, and I'm not exactly keen on kissing some weird dude, so I left.



Now, the streets in my town are in fact, very safe, but paranoia gnawed at my brain and I looked for a place to be, at least until I decided to call a taxi and go home, the night is young, so whatever. After a few minutes of searching, I found a really old bench, worn, dusty and half eaten by termites, it's a miracle that it was still here, I sat down and checked my phone, answered to a few texts, checked my social media, and updated my status.



And then I saw it, a broken down, decrepit, old mansion. I knew that manor, it was the victim of SO many urban stories, most of them really, really shitty. I was immediately hooked. I could go in and see if any of those stories were real, but then again, curiosity killed the cat.



But satisfaction brought it back.



I leapt from the bench and made a run to the door, a bit giddy from whatever was behind it, it really didn't matter what the fuck happened, if I get killed by a monster or a ghost, at least I knew the truth behind the stories.



Anyway, I opened the door, and went inside, and activated the flashlight app. The entire thing was dusty, and rotten, and the chandelier light was dimly flickering... What? Holy shit.



Suddenly, the light turned on completely, and blinded me for a few seconds, but after I regained my vision, the ground shook and a loud, earsplitting roar come from the depths of the house, scaring the crap out of me, shit, was the house angry at me?! The cracking and and moving of the wood planks told me that I shouldn't be here. So I rushed to the nearest room. The kitchen. It was incredibly unkept and dirty, but the floor was tiled, and the cracking stopped, so I felt safe.



For like, twelve seconds.



The oven door suddenly flew open, and the tray practically flew out and landed on the ground.



Me, being stupid, went to investigate, and what I saw kinda grossed me out. It wasn't guts or eyeballs or cut off hands, it looked more like a weird dough, but moldy and with a lot of ants. The lights flickered one time, and then dimmed.



There were a few knocks from upstairs, coming from the stairs, and just felt scared, and I decided that was my cue to leave, I retract my earlier statement, I really didn't want to die today, so I rushed out of the house, called a taxi and went home.



The following day was weird.



I woke up with a sticky note on my forehead, it was a note, written in cursive.



"Hello!



I noticed you visited me last night, and I apologize for spooking you, it has been some time since I had any visitors, and I apologize for the ruckus, It's hard not to stretch and yawn after having been asleep for quite some while.



Feel free to visit me any day.



-Monty Boothe