The house sat in the wet spring air on a hill in the woods of a small town. It was visible to the whole town, a dingy white being that had sat dormant for years. It sat unsure, as if it could come down in seconds. The glow of the sun made it bearable to watch, as it’s sickening appearance scared away anyone who dared glance for more than a few seconds. The man inside the white eyesore, was just as the house had been. No one knew his name, but no one knew anything about him, really. No one dared stepped near the horrific sight. We knew he was blind, though, the paint on the outside was distorted. The offices claimed they haven’t received a bill from the house in over 16 years. We figured it wouldn’t be difficult to live in the dark for a blind man anyway. The years go by with the house getting older, scarier, and more intriguing every year. In the summer, a heavy rain would pour onto it making it heavier on top of itself. The autumn brought an array of beautiful leaves, and an attraction toward the end of october. A real sight for wondering eyes was in the winter, when a bed of crystals decorate the disgusting residence. It gave a sort of nice touch to a mean look. What we knew about this man, and his home changed on the account of an office women’s police report. May 2nd, 2012, a woman working for the home offices made a pretty intriguing report that kept the town talking about until she went away — messed up, that lady was, after what happened. It’s 2015 now and most of the town had still been embarrassed to mention her, she was basically out of her mind to most of us. Some of us had almost wanted to believe her, but our own fears kept our minds numb. The woman went into the home, to investigate the man and his home. Our town was always making changes to things, removing homes, and adding useless attractions. The report was as follows,
Emily walked onto the property, the smell of rotting wood and dust already filling the air. She thought of something dying several times and laying to rest in the same spot. The distracting odor seemed to interrupt the woods for an eternity just silently, sitting dormant there. She walked up the steps, a slow creak coming from under each one. The man sat close to the door, facing his back to the opening. Emily let herself in, the smell now becoming apart of her. She walked in front of the old man, looking him over. His old wrinkled legs, with freckles leading up to his ebony arms and neck. The man was as bad a sight as the place he lived in. Emily spoke directly to him as if he was at a loss for hearing. “I’m Emily and I’m here to help you.” After no reply, the odd look on the man’s face caused her to take a step back, brushing her hands at her side. She was frightened by a pure white cat that peered through her with it’s black eyes with endless depth. It jumped from the banister to the floor rushing past her. The small cat brought a small something in it’s jaws to the man and he ate it. Disgusted, Emily stepped further away to examine the dirty place. Her face never changed as it remained tight, and worried. Soon she left and returned with a helping nurse, to avoid doing this cleaning on her own. Though she would have loved to stay, she left the man, the cat, and the new help with instructions and other items they may have needed. The nurse was left with the old man, as Emily hurriedly exited the smell trap. Emily had returned the next week to check on the house and it’s residents. Again, she remained uneasy in the presence of the old man. His dark skin seemed to wrap around his bones and it left her very uncomfortable. As she walked in, he seemed to hear her and looked to her with his white lifeless eyes. He grinned and returned to stroking the cat with his long hands. Emily had walked in expecting to see the nurse, but to her surprise no one but the man and her were in the house. “Nurse?” She called out, furrowing her brow. “Where did the nurse run off to?” The man replied with a small shrug, “I’m afraid she’s missed dinner.” The cat let out a disharmonious growl. She walked past the man and into the halls, passing a small burgundy, blood like door with a chipping, black frame. The door gave off a horrifying feeling, along with more nasty smells that seemed to linger on her tongue, she swallowed a dry lump, distaste filling her mouth. The smells grew stern as they seemed to grasp her, and lead her nearer to the door. She went to put her hand on the knob but was interrupted by the cat gracefully scrubbing at her feet, but when she leaned down to pet it it began hissing and clawed her hand in a quick swipe. The ephemeral pain of the sharp claw caused her to gasp loudly. The cat sped off and through the door. Angry, Emily walked back into the living area where the man sat in a solemn silence, walking past him and out of the house. This happened for two months, and many times the nurse left nothing more than a mess and their belongings. It almost scared the lady, her suspicion turned into timidity and timidity into fear. For weeks she grew tired of sending nurses only for them to disappear, so she set a small camera in the hallway to get to the bottom of these missing persons. Scared and uneasy, she stood on a rickety chair that leaned left, and right as she tried to hang the camera. It was almost like she knew, as the cat comes rushing under her. The chair falls, she falls, and so does her unflinching attitude. Evidently shaken, and sort of frantic, she looks up from the dirty, sticky floor to see the man standing before her. He smiled, as she timorously pushed past him dusting off her work attire. Angrily she stormed out of the house, a sticky red something wrapped around her fingers as she tried to rid her clothes of dust and disuse. “Damned cat, I have had it!” The car door slams behind her, as she plans to find out what was so eerie about this house.
She picked up Homero, a lively, fair kid no older than 22. Tall, and ebullient despite the overlook of his new workplace. She knew of the possible risk she was putting him in, if her fear turned out to be evident. These nurses had to be in trouble, if not killed, she thought. She sent Homero in, and watched him from the comfort and light smell of her vehicle. He seemed to be perfectly fine as he came out every few minutes as she had instructed him. The house seemed to grow more tired, and heavy than it had weeks before, as if one gust of wind would send it crashing into the woods, disappearing into the spring grass. The day went on, and Emily drifted off in the front seat, awakened by a violent scream. An echo seemed to ring through the wood, as the cacophony bounced off of the trees. She opened her phone to the live video streaming, Homero followed the cat into the mysterious room. Closely behind the man ran behind them both and the door closed with one swift movement. The scream repeated itself, causing Emily to shutter. The woods were darker than they had seemed anytime before, no light anywhere near. The night swallowed her as she rushed onto the front porch, throwing her momentary terror to the side. Her heart grew heavy as Homero, the old man, not even the cat was in sight. She timidly pushed the rickety door ajar.
The woman stood in the doorway mortified, letting fear penetrate her like a sword. Not one soul sit in the living room, quiet began to get to her so she spoke out. “H-Hello?” “H-H-Homer-r-o?” She stuttered. The only thing with her, was the odor sitting in the air. The moonlight seemed to illuminate the hallway, she followed. The moonlight stopped in the doorway of the red door. She shook her head as if to tell the door, no thanks. It crept open slowly, the smell growing more and more remarkable. She gagged and feeling silly for being afraid of whatever she might have feared she walked into the room. Stepping into a puddle of water, she looked down and a severed arm lay at her feet. The moonlight illuminated the room and the water turned into blood and bodies lay all around. Women, men, other animals… and in the corner the old man hunched over with the cat. She couldn’t scream, she couldn’t move, she just stared in absolute horror and disgust as the old man and the cat chewed on Homero’s body. Her hand clenched the rusty door knob, splinters digging into her fingers. The worst came as they both turned their heads, the old man speaking, “Going so soon, dinner’s just begun.” Followed by an eerie grin. Emily felt her feet move, while her eyes never left the man, teeth covered with bits of flesh, hanging and dripping red. The crunching of bones corresponded with the sound of her feet racing across the floor. “This can’t possibly get any worse!” She frantically screams. The house fell apart behind her, large pieces of debris falling on top of her heels. The crashing of the house echoed as she fell into the dirt, frantic and frightened. A solemn silence followed the house crashing, she never looked back again, in fear of seeing the sight she feared the most, the old man and his crimson teeth.
The police came about an hour later to find Emily in hysterics next to a tree. She tried to explain the issue, but it was difficult as the house, Homero, the man, the cat, even the wretched smell no longer sat behind her. It was all gone, as if it never existed. That is exactly what the police told her, but she cried otherwise. It was all lost, and so was she as far as the townspeople were concerned. She “went” away after that, nobody ever heard from her after that day. Present day 2015, the house sits on the hill in the woods — but the town never dared to go near or speak of the “fallen” house or Emily. Not even the distant nightly screams caused the town to investigate the house of deathless death.