Door to the Underworld

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I walked past the gate and walked up to the dark wooden front doors. The whorls and swirls of the door resembled fresh ink drops and long-forgotten blood splatter. I hesitantly grabbed the knocker, which was a figure of a screaming Medusa, and let it go. A single bang! intruded the air.

The door creaked open and I walked over the threshold and took a few hesitant steps into the foyer. I stopped in the middle. Dark wainscoting and grim velvet wallpaper surrounded me. A chandelier long past its prime hung above me. Silky spider webs entwined themselves in the candlesticks and silver details. It looked like a once-loved sheet protectively hugging its past lover cast from fire and worshipped by many admirers. The wainscoting was interrupted by an oak fireplace with a handsome portrait of a young man above it. He was quite a Dorian Gray with how he was painted. I gazed upon the portrait and was shocked by what I saw. At first glance, the man in the frame was young, with a second look, the man aged considerably. With one last glance, the man was a skeleton with hopeless eyes. I had no time to recover from my horror when a deep voice intruded my ears. I seemingly felt like I interrupted a dialogue but the words haunted me and made me all the more curious.

"When hinges creak in doorless chambers, and strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls... Whenever candlelights flicker, where the air is deathly still... That is the time when ghosts are present, practicing their terror with ghoulish delight."

My breathing quickened and my heart tried to catch up by skipping a few beats. I felt light-headed and weighed heavily by confusion. This mansion wasn't a normal mansion. This mansion was haunted by ghosts. This mansion was a ghost story. The deep rustic-like voice continued his morbid monologue, but towards the end, he started to talk to me as if he was expecting me, which is odd, for I just happened upon this mansion during a causal last-minute walk born from utter boredom. " Welcome, foolish mortal, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host— your ghost host." With the conclusion of his greeting, my 'ghost host' seemed to extend a phantom hand and sent a chill through the air that revealed a hidden door in the wall. It let out a soft groan as it gently opened in a welcoming gesture. For what I could see in the foyer, the door led to a photo gallery that contained a much lighter atmosphere. My ghost host talked again. "Kindly step all the way in, please." I followed his orders. The door slammed shut behind me. "There's no turning back now," my dear host warned. As he said before, I was a foolish mortal.

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