Messenger in a Nightmare - Chapter One

The house on the corner has always sent shivers down my spine; the broken bricks looked like crazy paving, and the cracked glass in the dust-covered window made it look horrifying, deserted and fearsome.

As I approached with my messenger, round bag tightly secured on my back, I carefully dodged the stingy nettles and thorn that had evaded the path. The rusted iron gates hinges almost shattered as I forced them to move as if against their will as the gate screeched open after much effort.

Immediately the air felt close and the daunting building loomed ahead even more powerful than before. I half ran, half crept, over the over grown path, desperately looking for the letter box. I saw the moss-covered brass letter box embedded into the cracked oak door and tentatively moved towards it, desperately fearing what might lurk behind it. I forced my single tattered letter through the weathered letter box.

Whether as a result of my pushing or through some creepy sorcery the door creaked open to revel a small tatty smudged ebony table with a scratched crystal ball placed on the top looking into it the dark center made me shiver in fear. A desperate cry for help echoed through the shadowy corridor, stopping my immediate urge to flee.

Following the haunting cry, I stepped forward into the darkness, I was surrounded by seemingly ordinary, yet subtly sinister sounds. In the first room of the corridor there was a most horrific sight; a pale girl with dark brown hair and eyes as black as the abyss weeping in the corner. The girl was a twisted, tortured version of the newest student at my school. She was barely recognizable as the same person she whimpered, "Go"; she looked petrified as she realized that I'd remained where I was. "Go. Don't let him catch you."

I hovered where I was not responding she stared, "Run, don't let it catch you!" She hissed, panic struck me as the stairs creaked and the house shook, evil seemed to sweep through the very air.

I began to run for the door, forgetting about the poor tortured girl. The very air seeming to be against me, I could not move fast enough through the evil house. The door slammed and splinters flew. I was trapped forever, would I get tortured like the dark-haired girl.