This is a true but weird story that still shocks me.I was home alone, finishing a school project. Suddenly, the power went off. I wasn’t expecting it, even though it was storming pretty hard outside. Anyway, the lights went out, and total blackness closed in. I couldn’t see anything, and I mean nothing. I was in a room with no windows, so it seemed that I had just gone blind.
I crept into my hallway. It was an old, really long hallway. The two windows gave out dim lighting. It was the middle of summer, and the air conditioning had stopped running when the power went off. It got really almost unbearably hot in that short period of time. So, as a result, I went over to the window and opened it. I knew water was going to get it, but I was too hot. Then, since I could see a little, I crept down to my kitchen and grabbed a small flashlight. Then I crept back up to my room. Again, no one was home, but I was as quiet as a mouse. I was about to continue working on the project, when all of a sudden I heard voices. And noises. Evil laughing and whispers. At first I thought it was just my imagination, but I realized it was not. I was so scared I almost peed my pants. I quietly crept up to my door, ready to quickly turn the corner and catch the intruders in my home. I took a deep breath, and spun around the corner.
No one was there. They must have heard me and ducked into one of the rooms, I thought. First I went up to my sisters room. My high heels clicked against the mansion’s tile floors. I kicked them off, not wanting to scare the intruders. I soundly opened the door to my sister’s room, and checked inside top to bottom. Again, no one was there. Not in the closet, under the bed, under the desk, or any other hiding spot they could be in. I was puzzled. They are probably in another room dummy, I told myself aloud. Opps! I covered my mouth. I didn’t want them hearing me if they were nearby. I then went around, checking all of the rooms, except one. The closet in the hallway. But, since they weren’t in any other room, they must be in the closet, I thought. I have to check it. For my safety, and my families. I opened the door. The closet was far back, meaning when you opened the closet door, it went way back. There was not much in it except our storage boxes. They room always had looked weird to me. It was dark red. When we had moved into the mansion. It was old, and had been abandoned for ages, so the rooms stank. The closet had stunk the worst though. I think there must be rat droppings somewhere in the wall, because it really stinks. Anyway, I threw open the door, and with my flashlight, began to wonder down. I was about halfway through the long closet, when all of a sudden the door slammed shut.
It was not the robbers, I kept telling myself. It was probably the wind, I reassured myself. Yea, yea, that’s right! It was the wind from the open window. I said to myself out loud. I finished checking the closet, and, again, it did not have anyone in it. Then I walked hurriedly toward the door, grabbed the handle, turned and pushed. Oh, no! I thought. It was stuck! I was used to this, in this old house the doors got stuck all the time, but I usually wasn’t home alone, stuck in a stinky closet, intruders in my house, and a dying flashlight being my only source of light. I sat down, getting up every couple of minutes to check the still-stuck door. Oh well, I thought. If I am going to be stuck here, I might as well try to make the best of it. I turned my flashlight on (I had been keeping it off to conserve the batteries) and began digging in one of the boxes nearest me. It was mostly junk from my kindergarten days. Pictures, drawings, stuff like that. I pushed it aside and found another box. This was must have been centuries old. It was broken, and cobwebs and dust covered the box so bad that I couldn’t even see where the lid was. Finally I found it. I opened it gently, afraid I was going to see a skeleton or something spooky.
Inside was just a whole bunch of old, yellow, and torn-at-the-edges paper. I was about to shut it and open a new one when a sentence caught my eye. “’They say he went…psycho. I pulled the paper that had that sentence on it out. I smacked my flashlight, hopping to get better light. I had to face the facts, it was dying. I began reading. The first couple sentences didn’t make senses to me…they were just explaining who lived in the house first. Then I started reading aloud. “The people that built the mansion nicknamed it Nightmare Mansion. It was a man and his son, who was about twenty years old. They were always good friends, and then, one day, the son, Jon, went psycho. He just snapped. He was always a nut, neighbors said, but then one day, he just broke down. When his dad said that he needed some help, the last straw broke. He choked his dad, and then, cut him up. He took his head, and rubbed it all over the closet doors-making the walls a dark red. Then, the Jon killed himself, right there in the closet. The bloodstains never could come out. Since then, all the owners of the home did not like the closet. They said weird things happened to them in there. The door would stick, and slam shut on its own. Other owners have said they felt like someone was watching them. Outside the closet door, in the hallway, owners have reported hearing voices and whispers. The son then scattered the body parts within the closet walls. A strange odor has erupted. Strangely, all the workers we called in to remove the parts have run out of the house, terrified. Years, later, still none of the workers have stayed long enough to remove the parts. We, the realtors of the home, have stopped trying. All the workers have said, when asked what spooked them, “Somebody is in there, the devil? We don’t know, but someone is in there.” The house has been classified as haunted, and, we to have given up on trying to sell the house. We gave Nightmare Mansion to another Realtor Company and I still don’t know if anyone has bought that house. I don’t know because I never go near it, something-strange lives in that closet, just waiting. Waiting. As the ex realtor of the house, I was required to write the records of the house. I didn’t enjoy, but this is my warning. If you live in the house now, get out. I warned you. Something evil is there. Beware of the closet at Nightmare Mansion.”
I couldn’t believe what I had just read. I actually read it three times to make sure that I had really read that. A murder? Blood walls? Scattered body parts? So many questions flooded my brain, but one in particular kept coming up. How am I going to get out of here? I jumped out from my place on the floor and tried the door again. Still locked. Shoot! Tears of fright and frustration flooded in my eyes. I was going to die, I thought. I will never make it out of here. Just then, my worst fear happened. The flashlight burned out.
Everything instantly went pitch black. I was so scared. I curled up on the floor and closed my eyes, hopping to fall asleep so I would not be so scared. In my heart, however, I knew that I wasn’t going to fall asleep no matter what. In the dark is when the real HAUNTING began. I started to hear breathing, although I was holding my breath. I heard whispers again, this time from inside the closet. Suddenly, the lights flicked on, but only for a second. However, a second was all I needed to see a man, with a knife through the top of his head, to scream. He looked normal, except the fact he was covered in blood and he was a silver-ish color, from all the blood that was drained from him when he killed himself. I backed up against the closet wall, screaming, even though the room was pitch black again. It’s that crazy son, Jon, and he is going to kill me to. I heard footsteps getting nearer, and then I felt his pale, ice cold hands around my throat choking me. I couldn’t breath, and a red haze was filling my eyes. I’m dying, I thought. I fought back with all my might, kicking and biting. However, my legs went through his stomach, and my teeth through his skin, like I was biting thin air. He didn’t even flinch. He let go for a second went the lights flickered on once more, and I was able to get a gasp of hair. Then he grabbed me again, and I was fighting for my life. Just as I was about to die, die forever, the lights came back on.
Instantly, Jon disappeared and I fell to the floor, gasping and coughing in the air. I guess he hates light, and he only tries to kill people when the lights are off. That’s why he didn’t touch me, or let me know he was there when I had my flashlight. He hates light. Finally, after about three minutes of gasping in air, I crawled to the door, too weak to stand. I grabbed the doorknob, and to my amazement, it wasn’t stuck. I was free! I swung it opened, crawled out, and fainted right there on the tile floor.
My parents came home, and although I showed them the history off the house, I did not tell them about what had happened. I knew they wouldn’t believe me and would put me in a mental hospital. Two weeks later, we moved. My parents just weren’t thrilled that a murder and suicide had taken place in the house. We moved to a new house, a half-hour away. I’ve been looking for the records since, trying to find out what happened in that house. The realtors just never tell you anymore. You don’t know what could have happened in your house…
I am sorry if it is a little long!