WARNING: Gore. Lots of it.
***
Suddenly, Zayn Malik did not want to be where he was; standing in front of the terrifying so called haunted house. He now knew why Annabeth kept trying to persuade him not to investigate on it, for those who dared to venture in, never came back.
And Zayn thought it was utter bullcrap. A ghost? Hell no. He was determined to prove them wrong. But now that he finally came face to face with the troublemaker, he didn't seem so sure.
The building was quiet a sad looking one, with heavy cracks on the faded walls and shattered windows. Ivy creeped over the windows and roof. A sign plunged into the ground near the doorstep simply read, Stay away. Zayn was going to swallow his paranoia and go right in, though. He was not a big believer in the paranormal, so it did not scare him as much.
Maybe.
While he reassured himself with the help of his inner voice, his trembling right hand slowly pressured the rusted iron gates to swing open. They whined and squeaked, protesting against the hinges that barely latched on to the crumbling brick walls. Zayn walked past them, wiping his hands to rid of the brownish-black substance that had accumulated on his hand from the weathered metal. His boots scrubbed against the dirty ground, and that was something Zayn didn't mind. He really wanted a pair of new shoes, for the ones he currently wore were his least favorite.
At last, he reached the front of the house. The weight of his foot caused the wooden stairs to groan under his pressure. He stared at the reddish-brown door knob, contemplating whether he should really enter the haunted house.
"Do you really have to go?"
Zayn ties his shoelaces and looks up at her. "Yes, Ann. I have to. I want to prove them wrong." He signs.
Annabeth shifts her weight from one leg to another. "What if..."
Zayn shakes his head. "What did I tell you about what ifs and buts?" He stands upright, a good four inches taller than her.
"I know, I know... But-"
"See? You need to learn to trust me, Ann. I'll be back before you know it." He presses a soft kiss on her cheek.
"Okay." She doesn't look convinced.
No, it was now or never.
A deep breath taken, he finally twisted the door knob. Suddenly, the confidence was knocked out of Zayn Malik, and now he was left a hot mess. The interior of the house was even worse. Damn you, Mother Nature. Why did it have to be today that you made the heavens cry? The sky's gloominess was worse than ever, no ray of sunshine could peek through the grey clouds.
And he was in. The door did not close on its own, like in the movies, so that was a first. But what was not settling was that there were actually scratches on the backside of the door, and they looked fresh, just few weeks old.
Horrendous images started flashing in his head. They looked like a human's doing...
He shook his head.
But why would a human scratch on the door?
Zayn balled his fists to prevent them from shaking too much. He realized that it had become a little too chilly. Little white puffs of air escaped his lips when he exhaled deeply.
It had to be the weather. After all, it was a cold place where he lived.
Suddenly, he heard a soft thud, and the sound of feet hitting wooden floor. Zayn's blood ran cold as he tried to identify from where exactly the sound seemed to come from. His heartbeat spiked when the sounds became louder.
