•10• haunted house

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Sweat glistened off my skin, my throat was sore and I had a dull ache above my brow.

"You're a terrible driver." I muttered, leaning my head against the window, relieved we have finally come to a stop. Sterling owns a pickup truck, one of those rusty ones you always see abandoned or behind a farm in movies. To say he was a bad driver was an understatement. Not once did he pull out his phone, I'll give him that, but it's a wonder how he came to own a license if he has one at all. His road rage is horrific, he kept swerving the truck and when he stopped just now, he tried to save me from hitting the dashboard soccer-mom style.

The pain in my chest continues.

"Hey," he held up his hands in defence, "I say it was pretty good for my first time." I slowly turned my head towards him, he fidgeted under my cold stare.

"You have never driven before?" I asked, my voice remained calm but there was a demonic edge to it that couldn't go unnoticed.

"Um, yeah," he pulled the key from the ignition and stared at everything but my face, "but I know how to drive from movies and video games, I've never driven before because Alden used to take me places." He rushed out before I could yell at him. I was about to too, at that part about learning from movies and video games, but when he mentioned Alden, the anger transformed to sorrow in a matter of seconds. There was a minute of comfortable silence before Sterling cleared his throat.

"We're here," he stated. The door let out a high pitch squeak as it opened. I winced at the volume when Sterling vaulted over the hood and opened my door for me as well.

I felt the goosebumps form on my arms when the air hit me, I rubbed them through my sweater, thinking it would do something but was, sadly, proven wrong.

There was a sizeable house in front of us, the white panels had turned grey, black and brown. I couldn't help but grimace when a piece of rotten wood fell from the ceiling, my scowl vanished when I saw Sterling. He was smiling. Smiling at the disgusting surroundings, the smell of mildew, he was proud of this. His base.

"What do you think?" He asked giddy, looking at me for approval. My lips stretched into a thin smile and I nodded my head, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. Sterling frowned and looked back at the damaged building, biting his lip until it was white. "You don't like it, do you?" He asked. I didn't answer.

"Don't worry," his light and bubbly attitude was back and he jogged towards the house, "I'm going to get a few things but I'll be right back." He called out before disappearing behind the cracked front door.

After about five minutes of standing alone, I was getting restless and uncomfortable. Sterlings' base was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees climbing high into the sky.

I hate being in the woods at night and, by the looks of it, the sun was setting soon. I tried focusing on the white cloud left by my breath but soon gave in to the fear and marched towards the house, trying to spark up courage inside of me with each step I took forwards until it towered over me.

The doorframe was crooked, there was a crack in the shape of a spiderweb as if something had hit it hard. It creaked when it opened, similar to the car door, but this time the sound wasn't high pitch, it was a low creaking sound that came in clicks.

I stared into the darkness of the house, there weren't any lights. I took a step inside. The hair on my arm stood as a cool breeze tickled the back of my neck. I would have left, ran away, if it wasn't for Sterling still being inside. I called out his name many times until I gave in and decided to go looking for him.

The house wasn't as small as it looked on the outside, however, it was just as cold. The base wasn't heated, no electricity so it was dark and somehow damp. It reeked of mildew and I had to breath through my mouth which didn't help much.

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