The cold autumn breeze goes through my hair making the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention. Near me, my long-time friend, my only friend Johnny, “I heard it’s hunted,” he mentions. “That's what you said with our school's cafeteria,” I remind him. “I’m serious. The last guy that went in there never came out.” He says. I stop walking and face him, “Are you serious?” “I’m just messing with you, but wouldn’t be cool if it was hunted?” he asks in excitement. “Of course it would,” I say with fear in my voice. “Come on, let's get to football practice before the coach kicks our butts,” Johnny starts running to the field. I look at the dark gray, two-story house that’s past the chain fence and begin to run to the field.
“Practice was something today, huh?” Johnny asks. “Yeah it was,” I respond as I look over at the house feeling like something is pulling me towards it. “Are you alright?” he inquires. “Do you think the house is really haunted?” I ask. “That’s just something to scare little kids and even if it was haunted do expect me to call the Ghostbusters?” he retorted. I take a few steps toward the house to get a better look at it. “What are you doing?” he questions. “Just looking at the house,” I informed him. I put my hand on the door handle and open the door. “You coming?” I ask Johnny, keeping my gaze on the insides of the house. “Whatever you do, we both do it together,” he declares.
“Everything's all old and dusty,” Johnny exclaims. “Of course. The owner died years ago, I’m surprised no one tore it down yet.” I utter. I come across a newspaper clipping from showing a picture of the house when it was first built with a small article reading: “On May 4, 1899, former billionaire, Richard Daniels III, suffered from a fatal heart attack at the age of 42, shortly after buying a new home. His last words were, ‘I may not be an honorable man but I know there will come a time when I will be back on Earth more evolved then the people here today. When that time comes around I will be greater and do even greater things than the things I did before in this life.’ He is succeeded by his 17 year-old son, Richard Daniels IV.” I heard a loud thud coming from the other room. I walk over to the other room to see Johnny picking up a broken candlestick. I hear another thud. “Was that you John?” I ask him. “Not that time,” he tells me. “Then what wa--.” Another thud came from upstairs. “I don’t think we’re alone Nat,” Johnny says. “You think?” I say with sarcasm.
“More sheets here,” Johnny announces. “Same here.” I tell him, closing a door. “Maybe it’s nothing,” I say. “Probably,” he says. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” I tell him. We both head for the door when we hear a loud growl. “Was that your stomach?” I ask. “Nope, yours?” Johnny asks. “No,” I say. We both turn around and see a black dog with red beady eyes. We both run back upstairs into a room, locking the door behind us. “Ah, I can seeth thee hath met mine own dog,” We turn around and see a tall, thin man with a short black beard, a pipe in his mouth, wearing the type of coat you might find in “Sherlock Holmes,” sitting in a chair. “Who’s this guy and why is he speaking like we’re in one of William Shakespeare's plays?” Johnny demands. “Thy nameth is Richard Daniels thee third and this type of language is only temporary.” he proudly announces. “That’s your dog?” Johnny asks. “Aye, that be Bailey. Th’res anoth'r one nam'd Chole somewh're but I can't seemeth to findeth.” he said in a concerned matter. “Wait, you're the guy that died after buying this house,” I announce. “Aye. Grant you mercy to mine own brilliant son that gent figuar'd out how to bringeth me backeth to life,” he said. “But that’s impossible,” Johnny said, Richard pointed his pipe towards Johnny and I, “Nothing is impossible if 't be true thee believeth in t,” he said. Richard gets up and walks toward us, “Now that we’ve met each other and are familiar with everything, I’m sorry to say this but I’m going to have to kill you now,” he declares. Johnny chuckles, “You just spoke proper English.” “If you want proper English then go to bloody England!” he shouts. “You have 5 minutes to leave this house. If you fail my dogs will find you.”
Johnny and I run downstairs to the door. Johnny turns the door handle and pulls on the door, ”It won’t open.” “Let me see,” I do what Johnny did and get the same result. “Shoot, we have to find another way out,” I tell him. We head to the back of the house and try to open the door, “Still nothing,” I exclaim. “Two more minutes you children!” Richard declares. “We can use a chair to bust open a window and climb out.” Johnny explains. I grab a white sheeted chair and chuck it at a window breaking it instantly. “Come on,” I shout to Johnny. We both climb out the window and run to the street. Richard opens the front door and looks at us. “We’re out Richard!” Johnny declares and points him pipe toward us, “Never believe a trickster boys,” he announces, “Dogs!” Bailey and Chole charge our way, angry and hungry.
My alarm goes off, “Nathan! Wake up or you’ll be late for school!” my mom shouts from downstairs. I shut my alarm and get ready for school. “I had the strangest dream last night,” I tell Johnny. “Same here. We can talk about it on the way to practice,” he tells me. “Sounds good,” I close my locker and follow Johnny to the field. The cold wind blows as I look over to the house, a thin figure peers out the window.
