Liam and Maya, each carrying a backpack filled with ghost-hunting equipment, stepped out of the safety of their car onto the unkempt grounds of Harrow House. The grass underfoot was long and wild, untamed by any gardener's hand for what seemed like decades. The path to the front door, once likely a grand approach to the house, was now a narrow, overgrown trail littered with the detritus of many seasons.
As they walked, their footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet of fallen leaves and broken twigs. The crunching sound under their boots was rhythmic and oddly loud in the surrounding stillness, a stark reminder of the desolation of the place. Overhead, the branches of the ancient trees intertwined, forming a gnarled archway that cast dappled shadows onto the path, adding a sense of foreboding to their approach.
With each step, the imposing facade of Harrow House loomed larger. The intricacies of its Gothic architecture became more pronounced – the carvings on the wood, the ornate, but now rusted, metalwork, and the faded remnants of what once must have been a vibrant paint. The broken windows, jagged and dark, seemed to stare back at them like empty eye sockets of a long-forgotten skull.
Maya paused for a moment, looking up at the house. "It's like stepping into another world," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Liam, a few steps ahead, turned back to her, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, a world that's been left behind," he replied, his tone a mix of fascination and unease.
The path finally brought them to the front steps, a series of weathered stone slabs leading to a large, ornate front door. The wood of the door was old and swollen with moisture, its once magnificent varnish now peeling and discoloured. A large, iron knocker, shaped like the head of some grotesque creature, hung silently at its centre, its gaze seeming to follow them.
They exchanged a look, a non-verbal agreement that they had crossed a threshold not just physically but mentally as well. The house, with its air of decay and history, seemed to emanate a palpable presence. As they ascended the steps, the air grew colder, denser, as if they were walking into a different time, a different realm of existence.Reaching the top step, Liam reached out tentatively to the door, his hand hesitating before making contact. The wood felt cold, almost alive under his touch. He glanced at Maya, seeking a reassurance that was mirrored in her eyes, and together, they pushed the door open, stepping into the unknown that awaited them inside Harrow House.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers in the Dark
HorrorWhen curiosity leads to obsession, and the line between the living and the dead blurs, the echoes of Harrow House come alive. Liam, a passionate young writer with a penchant for the supernatural, and Maya, his skeptical yet brave friend, embark on a...
