Greenfeld's Manor (standard:horror, 1928 words)
Author: J. F. Naples	Added: Sep 26 2002	Views/Reads: 3530/2227	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Four boys stop in front of a house, one takes a dare...

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

When the laughter died, Trevor challenged, “Why don't you go and get
something from inside?” 

All fell silent.  Smiles faded.  All eyes fell once more on Lance, in
the spotlight again. 

“Why me?” 

“You know more about the house than any of us do,” Robert said. 

“You should be the one,” Lance said, slight tone of fear in his voice. 

Lance looked at Robert, to Trevor, then lastly to Xander.  He was
looking for some sign that they were just joking, but finding only 
seriousness in their eyes. 

“I-I don't know.  I told you that my dad said that the house was falling
down from the inside.” 

“And how many years ago was that?  If it was going to fall, it would
have done so a long time ago.  I don't think that it is going to go 
anywhere.” 

“What about those lights that come on at night?” 

“Those are only stories.” 

“My dad said that he seen them himself.” 

“And you said that he went inside,” Robert pushed.  “Why don't you keep
the family tradition alive?” 

Lance looked from Trevor to Robert.  “Why don't you come in with me?” 

Robert felt himself flush with color.  He felt the heat grow on his
face.  It must have been noticeable because Trevor pulled him behind 
his bigger frame, as if protecting him. 

“His dad never went inside,” Trevor defended.  “Yours did.  I am sure
that your dad told you about that house so many times that you couldn't 
get lost inside.” 

“We could stay all together.” 

Trevor grew to his full five foot eleven, one hundred and eighty-pound
stature.  “I am daring you.” 

Lance looked up from his five foot five frame, feeling much smaller than
his true height, but he felt something build up inside.  He knew he was 
going inside that house, as his dad did so many years before, then he 
can tell everyone that he did go inside and survived the Greensfeld 
Manor. 

“Ok, I give,” said Lance, pushing away from Trevor.  “You don't need to
get all medieval here.” 

“I was just trying to put things into perspective.” 

“Ok, ok.  Just give me a couple minutes.” 

“For what, the house to fall down,” Robert chided as he stepped out from
behind Trevor, his confidence grown, because he knew Trevor would stand 
by him.  For everyone besides Lance, the mood lightened. 

For Lance, he secretly did hope the house would fall. 

“Here I go.  I'll be back in a few minutes.” 

“Take all the time you need.  We won't be going anywhere,” Xander said. 

“I'll be back in a few minutes,” Lance repeated. 

Without looking back, Lance stepped through the gates opening, heading
for the front porch of the failing house. 

Stepping onto the stairs that lead to the front door, the step protested
underneath Lance's weight, but held up strong.  Up the stairs he 
proceeded, then ambled to the door.  The door was solid, not able to 
see what may lie on the other side, but it was slightly ajar, open just 
enough to let out a musty odor of ancient decay that had Lance believe 
what a mummy's crypt must smell like.  He reached out to the door, 
pushing it open further. 

The odor seemed to roll out like the tide.  It wasn't at all unpleasant,
but he could have done without the smell.  Tentatively, Lance put one 
foot past the threshold, leaned into the house, taking a deep breath, 
he slipped inside. 

As if recalling what his father had talked about of the house, and what
Lance had pictured in his head, it was like walking into one of his 
dreams while he was awake.  The walls were barren of decor, for through 
the years, gravity had stripped them clean.  For now, the floor lies 
littered with tattered wallpaper, picture frames with busted glass and 
faded pictures, broken clocks with frozen time and water stains was all 
that decorated the walls. 

Even the furniture, although covered in dust cloths, looked skeletal. 
Lance believed that if he were to brush against one, those sheets might 
flutter to the floor or even turn to dust themselves.  But Lance didn't 
want to stay here and mingle.  He knew what he had to do. 

Searching about for a souvenir that he could show to the three, and to
anyone else that might question his integrity about being inside 
Greensfeld Manor, he found what he had wanted. 

Sitting on a shelf that was still on the wall by the stairs was a stein
that had caught his eye.  It looked well out of place sitting there, 
seemingly untouched, uncorrupted by time and neglect.  Lance took 
another step into the house, letting his grip of the door go, 
proceeding to the stein in which he spied. 

With each step that he took, it seemed to Lance that the floor would
give underneath him at any moment.  One step, two, three, he stood 
before the stein.  As he reached for it, a soft click sounded behind 
him. 

Lance quickly brought up his guard, and turned quickly to meet who might
be behind him, but he noticed that the door had just closed. 

Bringing his hands back down to his sides, he shook off the moment, and
turned back to his prize. 

Touching the cool metal, it seemed even more out of place than before. 
He brought it closer for inspection, and he saw that there wasn't even 
a thin layer of dust coating it.  But it did look old, and it should 
make his waiting friends happy.  Just as he turned around, the  faint 
smell of lavender wafted past Lance's nose, and it made him halt his 
progress.  He turned about to find the source of the scent.  As he was 
blindly searching for the source, there came a soft sound of a woman's 
laughter, an enticing sound, hypnotic.  The scent of lavender grew. 

“Hello?” Lance softly called out.  He took a couple steps towards the
staircase, the direction in that he thought that the laughter was 
coming.  “Is there anyone here?”  Laughter sounded again.  Padded 
footfalls raced above Lance. 

Lance felt his heart flip in his chest.  He thought that he was in here
alone, but now he knew that he was not.  He knew that he should get out 
of the house, having already collected his trophy, but there was 
something about that laugh that he wanted to know.  Lance stepped onto 
the first stair and slowly made his ascent. 

As Lance climbed the stairs, the perfume grew stronger.  Another string
of laughter sounded with the patter of feet. 

“Hello?”  Lance said more boldly as he reached the top of the stairs. 
“Who are you?” 

The upstairs was as neglected as the lower level, but more light
filtered through the broken panes of glass.  The thickness of dust that 
coated the furniture was unreal to Lance.  He had never seen the sight 
before, even in movies.  Ignoring the dust for the time being, Lance 
walked further into the upstairs hall. 

“Hello?” he called out once more.  That alluring laughter came again,
and Lance found which door that it had come, the only door that was 
open on this floor. 

“I'm waiting,” she said sensually, quietly laughing. 

Something about her voice, her scent and her laugh had given fire to
Lance.  His breathing started to become irregular, his vision hazed, 
his blood burned.  He felt desire.  Utter craving.  Lance walked into 
the room and blackness overcame him. 

PRESENT 

“I am going to see what is taking him so long,” Trevor said, hoping
someone would either stop him, or at the very least come with him, but 
the hook was eluded.  He took a deep breath and slipped through the 
opening of the front gate.  Trevor looked at his friends.  “I'll be 
back in five minutes.” 

Robert and Xander didn't say anything, but they nodded that they
understood.  Taking in one last breath, Trevor took his first steps 
towards the house.  Within a minute, he slipped through the threshold. 

FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER 

“Do you think we should do something?” Xander asked. 

“Like what?” 

Another question, no answer. 

Outside the houses' perimeter, two teenaged boys stare at the house in
utter fascination.  Unbeknown to the pair, three sets of eyes were 
watching them. 


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