I opened my eyes only to realise I was tied to an old dusty table with an apple in my mouth. I tried to make a movement,with my eyes closed,I struggled to break loose from the vines binding me to the table. I was almost loosened when I heard footsteps approaching. I opened my eyes quickly only to meet the glaring eyes of an old lady with eyes reddened with anger. I stared right into her eyes and saw death staring back at me.
I had always talked of death but meeting death face to face at this tender age,was something unthought of by me. The old lady had a sharp knife in hand which was drenched with blood. I tried to scream forgetting about the apple in my mouth. After several unsuccessful attempts,I finally gave up. The only means of survival would be a miracle. Patiently waiting for the miracle, I noticed a door inside the room stood ajar. I managed to loosen the vines binding me without the old lady's knowledge. As, she kept on looking at what seemed to be a large pot on fire away from my attention,I had an idea. I removed the apple from my mouth and dashed for the door only for it to shut in my face, so fast that I almost run into it. As hard as I tried the door wouldn't budge. I made another move for the next door but only to be shut by the sharp edges of the knife. The mysterious old lady threw another knife at me. I was just on time to miss the sharp edges of the second knife. My heart skipped a beat as a child blood run through my veins, I froze with fright as my heart began to pound heavily. I was hoping for somebody to wake me up to end this nightmare. I went back till my back touched the walls of the old dusty abandoned building.
The old lady looked at me angrily,her face well noticed, it spoke of doom and terror threatening to kill me at any point in time. This time,I studied her face very well and was even more terrified. Her face was deformed. Her head was covered in a hood and her eyes were buried so deep in their sockets that for a second I thought she had no eyes at all. I was still hoping and praying that I will wake up from this nightmare but it only got worse with each passing second. I realised the seriousness of the situation at hand. As if I was brainwashed, I could hardly remember I came in with my friends until now. "What have you done with my friends you plain faced witch?" I shouted angrily with the last bit of courage I had in me. I thought I had asked a question and an answer in reply was legit but the question was ignored as if I uttered nothing at all. She only snapped her finger and from no where I was binned by a stronger vine, more thicker and stronger than the previous one I broke loose from.
According to my definition, myths are rumours spiced with lies and tragedies of horror scenes to scare people from going to a place. This definition remained so on my lips until now that I am trapped in this haunted mansion,held hostage to this crazy old witch whom I had watched murdered my friends in cold blood right under my nose. I watched as she tortured them till death. She skinned and fed on their flesh. Out of fear and shock, I couldn't endure to watch the horror scene so I passed out only to be revived as the last man standing. What baffled me is how I never remembered I came in with people until my final moment of death. That is how I call it because I certainly won't survive nor escape from the grips of this old powerful witch. It will only take a miracle
It was said that she was once good and kind witch but things turned out badly and she was banished. She was stoned on the streets by the very people she loved and cared for. She then took refuge in the woods where she built a glass house to attract people into her domain. It was also said that no one has ever made it out of the woods alive. So were some of the rumours circulating the place and many scary stories. I was even told she killed people and fed on their flesh the more she fed,the more younger she became . I never believed all those stories till I met her in the woods. I was attracted by the house of glass with my friends. She lured us with curiosity into her abode and I saw her tear my friends limb by limb. I quite remember her picture which hanged in the towns museum with the inscriptions boldly written on it the out cast. Well the image I saw didn't match the one that met my eye,but it was quite clear that in every rumour, there is an iota of truth.
THE HAUNTED
