Term Papers on Creative Story: The Dark House

Term Paper Title	Creative Story: The Dark House
# of Words	1256
# of Pages (250 words per page double spaced)	5.02

Creative Story: The Dark House

by Tom-Inge

     Earlier today, John and I were taking a walk in the outskirts of the town,
when we saw an old house on top of a hill. I wanted to take a closer look at it,
but John looked a little spooked, and mumbled something about not wanting to go
there. I convinced him that there was nothing to be afraid of, it's just an old
house which haven't been occupied for a while, though I wasn't sure whether
someone really was living there. We walked up the driveway, up to the house. It
was huge.        The place looked deserted, the grass wasn't mowed for ages, and
everything was a mess. John chew nails like crazy, but I still wanted to check
this place out.
    The door was made of wood, and looked like it could fall apart any minute.
I tried to turn the door knob, but it fell off as soon as I touched it. The knob
rolled down the steps and kept on rolling down the driveway, and stopped by the
fence. That didn't make John feel any better at all. He looked like he had seen
a ghost. I took a deep breath, and pushed the door. It wouldn't budge an inch. Ť
Help me outť, I said, but John kept chewing his nails. God knows why, there was
nothing to be scared of. Or was it? I took a step backwards, and then kicked the
door. It slowly slid open, and I went inside. ŤWow! What a huge mansion we've
got here!ť John took a peek into the house, but didn't dare go inside.
   There was a huge hall in the middle of the house, with staircases to my left
and right. I went right ahead, towards a glass door in front of me. It wasn't
locked, so I carefully turned the knob, and the door opened. Suddenly I felt
someone touch my shoulder. I turned around immediately to see, but there was
nobody there. ŤProbably just my imaginationť, I said to myself, and went on into
the room.
   It was a lounge, with some impressive furniture, antiques and other objects.
It was a lot to look at, and I yelled for John. He didn't reply, so I went to
check on him. All I found outside the house was a shoe, and his necklace. I
couldn't quite understand what was going on. If he'd run away, at least he'd
taken his belongings with him. The door slammed shut behind me, and my heart
stopped for a second or two. I turned, and again there was nobody there. All I
could hear, was the breeze in the trees nearby, and a helicopter flying over the
town. I admit I was a bit spooked myself now, and felt like running away, but I
was fascinated by this old house, and wanted to explore it.
   I turned around and went inside again, the door wasn't locked this time. I
went up the staircase, and into a bedroom. I should never have done that. On the
bed lay John, without his shoe or necklace, completely pale in his face, dead. I
started crying, wishing that we'd never entered this house in the first place. A
cold breeze made me stop crying, and to swear revenge upon whoever that did this
to my friend. Outside the room I spotted something floating in the air, in the
hall. It was transparent, I could see through it. It floated closer to me, and I
started running away, down the stairs and towards the door leading outside. But
it was locked. ŤI'm doomedť, I thought, and stood still. As I looked to my left,
I saw a window, big enough for me to climb through. I ran over there, knowing
that the floating thing was following me. The window was in a kitchen, and in
one corner I saw a little whit...

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