Deep in the woods, miles away from any signs of civilization, was a house. With old cedar and pine walls, it laid in ruin. Broken windows, cracked pillars, large stones cast on the grounds, it was in disrepair. Once, it had been a grand manor, people flocking from miles away just to get a glimpse of it. But now it is but a shadow from the past. People had spread rumors that it was now haunted. That anyone who stepped foot in the mansion never came back. Yes, the Woodlands Mansion had a reputation. A bad one. Rumors say that if you can survive the night there and make it out alive, the house will reveal a treasure beyond your wildest dreams. Reid Curtis decided to test this rumor out. Maybe he’ll find the treasure. Maybe he’ll die. Maybe nothing will happen at all. Then again, it’s all just speculation. Or is it?


The wind howled in the night, causing the drafty room Reid had decided to set up camp to creak, the structure of the house moaning due to years of neglect. Reid sat in the middle of the room, shining his torch at the walls. An old grandfather clock was leaned against the wall, it’s rhythmic beating slightly calming him. It was raining slightly outside, a faint pitter patter was heard.

“So far, nothing but graffiti,” he said quietly to his recorder while looking at the explicit spray-paint drawings on the wall.

“Don’t see why everyone's so scared of this place.”

Suddenly, a loud clang came from the hallway, followed by some scuttling.

“Sound like rats.”

He decided to go and investigate, and sure enough, it was rats, who knocked over a rusty sword displayed on the wall. The sword was covered in a black liquid that he didn't want to touch. He decided to head downstairs, down the creaky steps to the main hall where he had entered just thirty minutes earlier. Shining his torch, he came across the paintings of the previous owners of the mansion. All dead as a doornail, seeing how decrepit the house was. Suddenly a light came from behind him.

“You look lost,” said a frail voice.

Reid quickly turned around, and there stood an elderly man, holding an old, rickety lantern that swayed at every movement.

“Who the flipping fish are you?” he exclaimed.

“I am the Caretaker of this old place,” gripping the top of gnarly old walking stick in his hands.

“Why are you here?” Reid asked. “This place is abandoned…”

“Why would I not? I swore on my very being to keep this old house safe. To protect it with my life. And I intend to follow up on that oath.”

“But wha-” Reid began, but the Caretaker suddenly disappeared. Reid shined his torch around, but the old man was nowhere to be found. However, there was a scarlet mark on the ground where he had stood that looked suspiciously like blood.

“Odd.”

He proceeded to explore the rest of the house, still no signs of the caretaker though. As he wandered the old house, he was meet with odd tricks. He looked at one piece of furniture or the layout of a room, and once he looked away and back, it seemed to rearrange its position. As if the house was toying with him. As he walked through the halls, he thought he could see chess pieces on a board in the villa move. But there was nothing to move them.
"I'm going mad..."
Suddenly, the old floors began to shake. Tremors ripped the creaky floorboards open, and through those holes in the floor, came a faint red light. Reid tried to run out of the house and made it to the front lawn, but some invisible force grabbed onto his left ankle. he fell to the ground, mud splattered all over him. Then, slowly, he was dragged back into the house, where in the remote wilderness, no one could hear his screams. The caretaker suddenly appeared again, a look of genuine disappointment on his face.

“I’m very saddened to tell you, but you’ll have to be fed to the house. It’s the only way for it to survive. Like I said, I swore an oath to keep this house safe. It must be fed for it to live.”
The grandfather clock still beating, soothing Reid before his impending fate.

“No…” Reid began before he was touched on the forehead by the Caretaker’s walking stick, and instantly turned into a black liquid the same type that he had seen earlier, which seeped into the floor.

“What a waste. He seemed to have potential. To be someone amazing. But the house comes first. Before anything else. I swore to it.”

And the Caretaker disappeared again. The House on the other hand, waited for it’s next meal to stumble into it’s doors.


Maybe I might make a sequel?