Screams, echoed grimly, in the dimly lighted halls.
The flames of the candles, swaying ever so gently,
Silence, overshadowed the mournful cries, leaving the ticking of an aging grandfather clock by itself.
A sense of dread, filled the hearts of the residents in the Manor.
With the cold silence, a rusty smell flowed in the air.
Footsteps, moving down the hall, with sounds of a heavy object, being dragged along.
A door creaked silently, with a small, little eye, peeking through the cracks.
It looked around wildly, as if searching for something.
Left, and right, up, and down.
It looked and looked, before slowly resting it's restless gaze, on a big figure, limping, seemingly dragging something in the lone hallway.
The footsteps, were heavy.
But the object, was heavier.
It dragged, and dragged, until the rusty smell became much more unbearable.
The horrible stench wafted in the air, traveling with an ominous pace.
It became too much, that the eye became a bit glossier than before.
With a shaking stare, it widened it's pupil.
I see you, you see me.
The girl's eyes were lifeless.
Dull, and empty.
Like a dead fish's eyes, it stared beyond the Manor walls.
The blood trailing behind two figures.
The stench, grew stronger, and stronger.
So strong—that it felt like they were in a butcher house.
Her once silky and smooth white nightgown, was crumpled and stained with dark colours.
The colour of her skin, was paler than a white Rose.
It trailed, until the two figures disappeared from the eye's sight.
Seconds, turned into minutes.
And minutes, turned into hours.
The cold, dreadful night silently passed with ease.
The bright halo of the sun, slipped it's radiant through the cracks of the curtains.
The flame of the candlelight disappeared with a hiss, leaving the melting wax to solidify itself.
The loud chirps of the birds, and the rustling of breeze flowing in from the window was then replaced, with a detached mechanical voice.
The words it said echoed, throughout the brighten manor.
Relief and anxiety, filled their chests.
"Congratulations to the remaining players, for surviving the first night."
"May your stroke of luck, continues."
[362 Words]
A/N: Tried my hands in a bit of, horror atmosphere. Those unlimited flow survival stories do you sum inspiration, man.
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RandomA Book Where I Dump Stories (and possibly poetry) That I Create From Time to Time. The Content Of The Book Varies From Simple Short Stories; To Character's (angsty) Background. If You Somehow Find Yourself Enjoying My Writing, I'm Glad! ᵀʰᵒ ᴵᵗ'ᵈ ᴮᵉ...
