To be unpublished soon and rewritten!
Featured on @DarkFantasy's, @Dangerous Love's, @Ghost's, @Ya's, @Paranormal's, @Fright's, @WattCliches, @Historical Fictions, @Crime's, @PsychologicalNovels, @WattpadUrbanFantasy's @mythandlegend, @StoriesUndisc...
Betrayal is the only truth that sticks. - Arthur Miller.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"We're here," Derek announced. Coming to an unsteady and cautious stride, the closer, he approached this house, before coming to terms with the fact that he was back where it all started.The dead leaves that lay scattered on the grass, crushed underneath the soles of his shoes, as he trod along this path of mystery and darkness, that only reinstated his inner turmoil of being reunited with this place again. He felt unnerved and wondered what awaited him next. He could hear, the old man behind him, struggling at each toiling step he took. His age had been against him which made it hard for him, to keep up with Derek.
But being the thoughtful man that he was, slowed down, taking into consideration that the old man could only go as far as his legs could carry him. Derek could feel a mixture of excitement, fear and doubt rush through him, and suddenly, he couldn't wait to explore this house again, with all the hidden secrets it possessed. One way or another, he wasn't leaving here until he had left with the answers that he came for.
Just as Derek expected there had been yellow caution police tape surrounding Albert's estate. It appeared to have just been left there and forgotten about. It must have been weeks since, he had last seen this run-down old, dilapidated house. It somehow looked even more depressing and frightening and yet for some bizarre, reason, he felt as if he were the luckiest man alive.
Derek's eyes fell to his feet, the cold water that pooled on the wet grounds were developing ice crystals. His eyes became wider as the crystals spread, merging until it was solid white. His eyes once again returning to the derelict house that stood before him. Only fear anchored his feet in the darkness. An immense storm could be heard from the distance of the forest, echoing throughout these forgotten and prohibited woods, driving Derek even harder, at quickening his pace.
He glanced over his shoulder and looked heavenward to the sky when he felt that insidious cold feeling stab at his skin again which told him she was even closer than he realised.
From what he could see there were no cars in sight, and no visible signs of the police either. They were too busy searching for him and had forgotten about this house for the time being. They arrived outside the front door, after spending the last five minutes, fighting through all the barricades, that prevented them from getting there, at first.
From the outside, the house was all tall and thin, made from large dark grey stones that had a rough feel, all of this sandwiched together by crumbling cement. Climber plants grew up up the house winding around the drainpipes, grabbing for the little sunlight, that reached this desolate place.
Derek crept, hesitantly, to the paint crumbling door, before gazing into the window and was met with nothing, but a deafening silence of pitch blackness, that made his blood trickle colder than a chilled winters morning. The windows rattled vigorously from the howling wind, as though they were about to fall out from their frames, which were made from rotting wood, being eaten away by woodworm. A few potted, broken plants lay next to the door, once there for neat presentation were now wilted and brown.
