Lockwood House

By Naveen Qazi

Q. In 350 words create an atmosphere of horror, mystery or suspense.

Withered autumn leaves crunched under my boots as I walked. The muted glow of moon lit the gravel road in front.

I look at the encouraging faces behind and my eye lids drop, blocking the view of the tatter-stone building for a second. With my heart pleading to God for a safe return, I enter - dusty door creaking, welcoming my arrival.

The interior was bleak, with warm suspended air that engulfed me. An odd stench entered my nostrils, and clouded my brain. The roof of the sullen living room was covered with the criss-cross of the spider ‘s webs and an antiquate fan supported by a thread like wire. The voices outside the house faded to black.

The walls of the room were painted in the darkest shade of grey, chipped in various – artistic patches. Room’s furniture was stacked in a corner, veiled by white stained sheets. The large portrait of a woman, fearlessly patting the back of lion was on the main wall, facing the front door. Her pale crimson Victorian dress reached till her toes. But her scrawny neck and pair of skeleton hands poked out as if fighting to not drown in the weight of the dress. The pained look in her eyes caused a curled shiver through the hair on the back of my neck.

The wind against the bulky granite walls shutters the window, causing my heart to lurch. Through the dusty window all I see is a sea of nothingness, surround in complete blackness. Reluctantly, I walk forward; the wood flooring creaking under my every step. A filth-covered door next to the sofa, open on its own – breathing sound echoes through the empty Lockwood house. Suddenly, a puff of breath at the back of my neck causes my hand to reach up to my eyes as if to hide from the unknown.

My mouth turns dry, face the color of death, and my body cringing in terror, just as a piercing glow appears in the doorway.

A glow in shape of a man.