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Greenfeld's Manor (standard:horror, 1928 words) | |||
Author: J. F. Naples | Added: Sep 26 2002 | Views/Reads: 3528/2227 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Four boys stop in front of a house, one takes a dare... | |||
A dilapidated house stands alone on the unkempt, grassy knoll behind its similarly fated wrought iron fence. Hidden behind the raucous foliage and wild ivies, the house looked menacing, but at the same time feeble, its once noble features rapidly deteriorating. The chimneys of which embraced the house, nearly felled, desperately holding purchase to its frail lifeline in that it kept the chimneys at their lurching stance, its bricks peppering the grounds beneath. Once white and beautiful, now worn and neglected, paint had fallen off in sheets; its windows either boarded blind or left unshielded against the elements; its face fallen into a sallow haggardness. The immaculate grounds of Greensfeld Manor fell short many years before to the sun, weeds, and abandonment. Once only bare feet had strolled upon its lush green carpet. Now, overtaken by dandelions, crabgrass, busted bottles and a wide variety of refuse, bare feet would be readily harmed if trodden upon today. The wrought iron fence that encompassed the houses' property was before, strong and noble: jutting spears, intricate designs, all covered completely in black. Now, felled sections, most all of it rusted. Of what remained standing was heavily enwrapped in ivy, cutting through its black coat to expose its susceptible surface, black to orange to brown. Outside the houses' perimeter, three teenaged boys stare at the house in utter fascination. Unbeknown to the trio, two sets of eyes were watching them. Silence hung over the boys that stood before the decrepit house. Heads slightly pushed through the wrought iron fence, waiting. Waiting for Lance to come walking out of the front door. “How long do you think we should wait for him?” Trevor asked. Silence was the only answer he received. TWO HOURS PRIOR “What do you think is inside?” Xander asked. The four boys stopped outside of the gates of Greensfeld Manor. The overcast that the sky presented gave the house a more ominous appearance. The breeze was slight. Just enough to chill the skin, but standing outside of this presence, it had a more chilling affect. “My dad said that when he was younger, he went inside,” Lance said. “Bullshit,” Trevor retorted. “No one stepped into that house for at least a hundred years. Don't you think that someone would have fixed it up or something by now?” “I have to agree with Trevor on that one Lance.” Robert chimed. “You always side with Trevor,” Lance said, giving Robert a smart punch in the arm. “Ok then. If your dad did go in there, what did he see?” Trevor challenged. The three sets of eyes fell upon Lance now. He was the center of attention, a place he never wanted to be. “I should have kept my mouth shut,” he thought. “He told me that there wasn't really much of anything in there. Well, besides ruined furniture, some clothes and whatnot. He also said that the inside looked worse than the outside did. Like the house was rotting from the inside.” “And how long ago was this?” “I think when he was my age.” “Oh my God. Then the house should have fallen over eons ago,” Trevor teased, laughing. Lance punched Trevor harder than he did Robert, but it was all in good humor. Moments later, they were all laughing. Click here to read the rest of this story (189 more lines)
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