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    Spenner

    Let's consider this my first DJ entry...

    by , 09-02-2010 at 01:23 AM (600 Views)
    For the online DJ system, that is. I have two books filled to about 350 pages total thus far and it's been a long time since I shared any :l so here we go, I'll start by retelling some of the ones you all have missed out on:

    The New House

    My family hears word of my Aunt Brenda buying a new place a couple hours from where she used to live. Invited, we pack up via time lapse imagery and begin our 3 three hour drive out of our way to meet the new house. They'd only moved in yesterday, and hadn't even come close to exploring all 50+ different rooms in the house. It was a mansion that somewhat reminded me of the manor from the Resident Evil 1 in size and complexity. However upon entering, the place seemed much unlike that mansion in RE1, for it was clean, tidy, and welcoming.

    After the expected greetings and whatnot with my Aunt and cousins, I naturally follow my oldest cousin, Dale, to his new room. I complimented his TV, which was a forty inch plasma with crystal clear picture. Dale corrected me, saying that it was his computer screen. Amused by this, I took advantage by watching youtube videos on it for what should have been hours. Soon, I went downstairs for dinner; apparently, I had missed the tour of the house from what they had explored thus far. Supper consisted of great homemade stuff.

    After dinner I was shown to my room, (there was just a transition to the moment my Aunt opened the door for me) and I immediately collapsed on the cozy bed. A brief lurch forward in time, a few hours. I hear crying, and then a brief scream. The door to my room opens and then slams. Heart racing. I contemplate and idealize what could possibly be happening, but I can't summon a reasonable conclusion. Determined to convince myself it was just the wind, I forced myself to try to sleep for the rest of the night.

    In the morning I went downstairs to see if anyone was up yet. There was nobody. There was a paper note on the fridge that hadn't been there the day before, which read, "The small room with the small door handle-- we don't go there!"

    I paced until everyone was downstairs and awake. We ate. Dale had a friend over as well as the friend's mother. Dale and his friend would just sit staring hypnotically at the computer screen, waiting for his mother to speak to which he would immediately reply with an aggravated "Shut up." and grimace, possibly swearing under his breath in anger.

    I said I was going to the bathroom, so I walked downstairs and turned a few corners and found it. Upon opening the door, the tap erupted violently without any of the handles being turned around the faucet. So, I went upstairs to find the other bathroom, ignoring the impulse to ask where it is. I walk through the room of my other cousin, Marina, which was sort of like a dual entrance-way room (a door on either end). I also notice another cousin of mine, Pam, was crashed on the bed. I emerge into a small hallway from her room, and immediately hear reverberating footsteps at a fast pace, sounding quite close. The door behind me slammed shut. I was completely alone in the narrow corridor; I could feel no human presence.

    It was illuminated with a nostalgic sunlight, deep and warm and hard on the eyes. There were three doors along the wall beside me. The door on the left had a shuddering handle. Hearing my heartbeat echo in my ears, pulsing madly and loudly, I open the handle out of overpowering curiosity. The sound of a thousand dying screams at once all hit me in one concentrated outburst, windy. Visions of decaying corpses, mutilated half-deads, and the tortured all dance around my peripherals. In the back of my mind I have an image of fingernails, rotten and overgrown, peeling slowly off the fingers of these leathery people, and it headaches me greatly. I slam the door shut. It immediately opens again as soon as I shut it, and the room looks fine. An old record player sits in the corner, spitting out some distorted jazz out of the brass trumpet. I close the door, my heart thumping being more vivid than ever.

    As I look over to the sunlit windows I see a shadow moving underneath them, along the floors, and quickly away from me. At this moment for some reason I realize that there are no lights installed in this part of the house. I walk to the end of the hallway and look both ways. The hallway becomes darker, the carpet rusty, the whole atmosphere dirty like that of an old cheap motel hallway, even the smells. I turn my back and return to Marina's room. The bedsheets were torn off and Pam was gone. As I made to leave, out of the corner of my eye, I see multicoloured toe socks peeking out from under the bed-- Pam was under the bed.

    I leave the room, but as I step away from the door I see a terribly vivid image in front of me. It was a woman with greasy and dirty gray hair, accompanied with a rotting gray face with cracks alongside, tearing away at the remaining skin on her face (not a lot). She was wearing a silver night-gown. Stains of red here and there, and many puke stains, particularly down her middle. She ignored me, fell to her knees without acknowledging me, and screamed the same scream I had heard only last night. She got up and glided away, sobbing to herself.

    I ran downstairs, turned a corner to find my Aunt and a few other people crowded around the bathroom door downstairs. The other things that had been in there before were gone, and now was a urinal, which was also backing up.

    We left the house, assuming, never to return.

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