Meet VANTABLACK

One-Shot

This wasn't what you were expecting when that damn kid begged you to find their toy. Of course you had to oblige; the kid was in tears and you couldn't exactly turn them down with the knowledge that if you did they'd follow you around, but it was only until you had stepped up to this child's idea of a "scary house" that you realized what you had signed up for. This most definitely wasn't a carnival fun house as they had described. This thing was a freaking abandoned house. In fact, it looked so abandoned that you didn't even worry about trespassing as it seemed like nobody would care.

The wooden planks on the outside of the house were blackened with age and some parts the wood even bent away from the building, the windows were covered with a thick black grime and most were shattered, the door looked kicked in far too many times and was barely hanging off its hinges. It was a state. The only thing that made it seem remotely touched by this century was the bright graffiti scrawled onto the front of the house reading "Xtreme waz here" in a mixture of neon green and pink paint. It was unappealing, to say the least.  

You made your way up to the rusted door, avoiding as many of the spiders and various insects as you could - the lawn couldn't have been mowed in years - and gave a push on it. Nothing. Muttering a swear, you shoved your shoulder into it and this time it came loose from the grip on the floorboards, swinging open with a loud, protesting "CREEEEEEK". Giving a frown, you stepped inside. What sort of budget horror film was this?! What next? A swarm of bats? A skeleton?!

You had to let out an irritated grumble as you stepped in and started to look around. Then again, how could that kid have possibly got through that door and closed it again? They said they had ran straight out to "get away from the scary octopus skeleton". What a bunch of crap. Best find that toy dog and get back to them.

The inside of the house was mostly pitch black, save for the natural light coming through some broken windows and cracks in the sides of the house. The floorboards were rotting and the paint was peeling away from mould at the walls. You tried the light switches but none seemed to turn on - on closer look, the lightbulbs in the lights were smashed. 

You made your way through the hallway and peeked into the first room, a living room by the looks of it. It was a smartly dressed house really, or it would have been. Now all the vintage furniture had started to rot and were covered in a strange black substance, slimy as if a giant slug had decided to live there. You wrinkled your nose up in disgust and checked in the next room. A kitchen. It may have also been alright at one point though now the porcelain sink was smashed along with the tiles on the wall. More black slime. Still no dog plushie.

As for the rest of the ground floor, everything was the same. Smashed valuables, posh but ruined rooms, rotted floorboards, black slime. Still no dog. Guess you'll have to check upstairs. You headed up the stairs to the second floor, what you could presume was an attic converted into a few rooms. The stairs creaked where you stepped and threatened to break and bow underneath your feet from how rotted and eaten by insects they were. Still, you made it up in one piece, even after breaking part of the banister after you clutched onto it after slipping. The second floor was the same as the first. Old, slimy, shattered and musty with the scent of charcoal, mould and damp, rotting wood. 

That was until you came across a bedroom. This bedroom wasn't like the other rooms of the house; this one seemed neater, it didn't smell as bad and it sure as hell wasn't smashed up either. It almost seemed pristine, ageless, despite its preserved Victorian layout. It was then that you spotted the plush the kid had described. A medium-sized Golden Labrador toy with a fluffy texture. Without much hesitation you crept over and picked it up. Though... something seemed off. What was that noise? From somewhere in the room, you could hear a sticky sound as if it was printing ink being rolled out with a roller. It echoed through the room too.     

You were expecting something to come through the door, or out the closet, or even from a window. However, a few drops of the strange black substance that you had seen everywhere else, landed on your head and you somehow manage to slowly, very slowly look up, filled with sudden nausea and dread. Something - or rather someone - horrific was stuck to the ceiling directly above you, dripping with black goo and as you gasped in horror, his melting skull gaving a sly but menacing smile.    

"Don't you know it's rude to leave the front door open?" He mocked, breaking into laughter.

It was too late to run, he'd already let go of the ceiling.