Hell House

Day 1

"Well, pretty shabby place we got here, but... we can work with it."It's been a couple of months since my grandmother's death.

The only real upside is that she left me the house in her name."Oh, fuck. At least I'm done house searching. Got this old dump... but an important old dump all the same."

I exclaim as I sit down on the couch, letting out a tired exhale. Finally, I can decompress for a bit after all the stress I've been through this year.

The couch creaks slightly under my weight. It feels worn out after years of nothing but use, but it's still effective, and right now, that's all I need. Just the serene feeling of being able to rest, even if only for a moment. Even if it's the absolute last thing you'd want to support you while relaxing, let alone sleeping.

Another wave of tiredness hits me like a tide. I rest my eyes and slowly doze off on this worn-out couch.

Day 2

Over the past day, I've been noticing how eerie everything feels, as if someone's constantly watching me, keeping surveillance over every little thing I do. I know it's a creepy-ass house and all, but I can't help feeling paranoid.

But right now, it's all I've got left of my grandmother's memory. I should get used to it soon, right? It'll all be fine. Just relax and settle in, man.

I should probably distract myself with some stupid shit, I think as I sit down on this damn worn-out couch. It creaks under my weight once again as I try to drown out my thoughts with mindless television. Whatever helps.

Yet I still feel a sharp coldness running down my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. It's slight, nothing much, but still enough to make me notice just how eerie everything feels.

I try not to pay attention. I try to act like everything is fine, but I can't help looking over my shoulder.

Is it fear? Panic? Or maybe some other emotion I can't even name right now?

Whatever it is, I'm frozen in place. I don't even know what's wrong, but I can't leave.

I go back to trying to focus on the television, hoping to drown out whatever it is I'm feeling. For a while, it works. Eventually, I'm able to drift off, as difficult as it may be.

I fall into a peaceful sleep.

Not for long.

I wake up in a cold sweat. I don't know the time, let alone where I am. Everything feels off, like something nudged me awake.

I look around frantically, seeing nothing but the deep darkness of the room. I can barely make anything out. There's not a single shred of light, and my heart begins to race unnaturally.

I wanna leave. Just try to leave. It's just a door that needs to be opened. That's all.

So why can't I do it?

Why can't I go?!

I continue looking around the room, searching every corner, but I can't see shit. Yet it feels like there are eyes on me everywhere, staring... judging... watching.

I quickly curl into a fetal position, holding myself as tears fall without me even realizing it. They're warm and salty against my skin.

"Why can't I move, goddammit? Legs... just move," I sob, shaking in the cold.

I remember staying at my grandmother's house whenever I had to visit her. It was always creepy, but never like this.

Never like this.

The night drags on. I can't sleep.

I won't sleep.

Day 4

It's the fourth day since I've lived in this damn house. Yesterday, nothing paranormal happened. Same as the first day I came here.

But today, I feel nothing but dread. The same sense of dread I felt on the second day.

I've been thinking, pondering, trying to notice everything. And what I've come to realize is that, for some goddamn reason, something paranormal happens every two days.

Everything already feels cold.

I should leave before shit goes down, but something is compelling me to stay.

Whenever I try to reach for the door, it feels a hundred times farther away. Whatever this thing is, it's taunting me. Taunting me with its presence. Taunting me with the fact that I can never leave.

And I hate it.

I hate it so goddamn much.

There's gotta be a way. Gotta be something I can do. There's always a way.

But even trying to call for help doesn't work. Not a single call or text goes through. This house is blocking me off entirely from the outside world.

It's not something I can see or even touch, but I know it's gonna come at me harder tonight. I have a feeling it will.

I just gotta be prepared.

And don't show weakness. Don't fuel this thing. I can't give it what it wants. I won't let it have its fun with me.

If I go down, I go down with my dignity.

And, like clockwork, my skin begins to crawl.

I feel a sharp, presence in the room. I scan my surroundings, trying to figure out where it might be.

Nowhere, of course.

It's fucking nowhere.

A whisper comes from the corner. Soft... almost unintelligible. But there's one word I can make out for sure.

"Chase..."

Wait. That's my name.

I quickly look toward the corner, and a sharp sense of pain and dreadful despair washes over me because of the sight I'm seeing.

It's horrific.

I'm frozen in place, staring at whatever creature this is.

I see a gray figure curled up into a ball in the corner. It's tall, inhumanly tall, with its bones sticking out, especially along its spine. Its long, lanky, claw-like fingers scratch at the wall as it continues chanting my name over and over.

I slowly back away, trying to stay silent, trying to hold myself together.

I grab a knife from the kitchen drawer, arming myself. I know a knife probably won't work on such a monstrous thing, but... It's all I have.

My hands shake profusely as I hold the weapon, trying to keep steady while this thing continues chanting my name.

I wanna stab it. I wanna go on the attack, but my feet...

My feet just stay planted, unwilling to move.

It's like I'm being held still, like one wrong move could mean something even worse than death.

The creature then stands up.

The floorboards creak under its weight as it steps toward me. Slowly.

My heart pounds. My breathing quickens. All I can do is watch, trying to keep my hand steady, but all I manage to do is quake.

The creature is now standing right in front of my face, breathing slowly. A slight wheeze comes from its chest, and its breath smells like death incarnate.

Its hollowed-out eyes pierce into my soul.

"Why?" I manage to exhale, my voice shaking as I try to hide the utter fear in my tone.

I don't know what I was hoping for. A response? Nothingness? I don't know. I just needed something.

Anything.

Yet the creature doesn't respond. Not at all. It continues heaving in my face.

One of its long, lanky, sharp fingers grazes my arm, causing it to bleed slightly.

My heart picks up the pace even more.

My body reacts on instinct, caught between flight or fight.

And I choose fight.

I quickly jab the knife toward it, and the moment I do, it suddenly vanishes, as if it never even existed, as if it had never been real.

I collapse onto the old floorboards, my knees slamming against them as I drop the knife onto the ground.

I let out a breath I never knew I'd been holding.

This damn thing was just messing with me again, trying to get a reaction. And no matter how hard I tried to resist it... it won.

My eyes slam shut, partly in relief, partly from the sheer exhaustion caused by the lack of sleep I've been getting.

But I can't sleep. Not now.

Not when anything could happen.

The second it gets bored of me, I'm done.

I have to be prepared for the sixth day.

I have to break the pattern.

No. I will be prepared.

For Grandma's sake.

Day 5

If my theory is correct, this should be their resting period. I can finally get a break.

No. Don't get your hopes up too soon. You still need to prepare for tomorrow.

God, I'm tired.

So fucking tired.

My eyes keep shutting. It'd be easy to just drift off, but not now. Not when this feeling of unfinished business still lingers inside me.

Even if I try to sleep, I can't when that creature from last night is still on my mind.

It's gonna get worse tomorrow.

Way worse.

Even during this so-called break, it's still watching.

Everything's watching.

After what happened, I spent all of last night searching through everything I could find in this house. Something, anything... just a way to beat this thing.

There's gotta be something my grandmother was hiding. Something she was keeping.

And indeed, there was.

A book.

A book of talismans of some sort.

I spent all night, and even all of this morning, looking through it for ways to at least keep this thing at bay. I scanned the pages, which seemed too sacred for my eyes to see, until I finally found something.

One thing.

A ritual of the night.

According to the text, if I manage to stay inside a ring of salt all night without leaving it even once, the spirits of the house will be bound for about a month before they resurface again.

My grandma...

She really kept all of this from me?

From our family?

What if everyone else knew? What if I'm the only one in the dark?

No. Why would they let me stay here, then? Why would my grandma leave this place to me if she knew about all of this? Why punish me like this?

Why'd she go through all of this without telling anyone?

And for how long did she have to endure it? Did she have to perform this ritual every month for an entire night just to make the noises stop and keep the creatures from emerging?

Questions continue to swirl through my mind as I scan the words on the page.

Then something catches my eye almost instantly, almost as if something drew my attention toward that section.

"Once the ritual begins, the house will know what is being done. It will do anything and everything to try to stop it, whether through tricks or scares. But as long as you remain inside the circle, it cannot touch you. Do not let even an inch of yourself step outside it until morning.

"No matter what."

My eyes widen without me even realizing it.

"Of fucking course," I whisper.

I begin flipping through the pages frantically, my hands fumbling as I turn from one page to another.

There has to be more to this.

There has to be.

Every turn of a page fills me with fear over what I might see, but I can't stop now. Not after everything.

Eventually, my eyes land on a page closer to the end of the book.

There are passages about specters, hallucinations, demons...

And what horrifies me most is the name written at the bottom.

My great-great-grandfather.

He's listed as the author.

He wrote this.

My family's in on this. They have to be in on this.

But why?

Why allow me to move here?

A cold resolve settles in my chest.

I'll bind this cursed house.

Whatever it takes.

They'll fucking pay for this.

I swear.

Day 6

Today's the day.

The deciding factor in everything, whether I live or die.

I'll get my answers. I'll face whatever this night brings.

I've prepared everything.

I pour bags full of salt from the pantry, as if they were specifically prepared for a ritual like this.

I'm tired. Really tired.

Tired of everything.

But this is it. I can rid myself of this thing until next month. I can finally rest after so long and ask my family all those questions.

I have a right to.

"Damn them... dammit all," I whisper drowsily.

I lie down inside the circle of salt, slowly but surely drifting off as night begins to arrive.

And before I know it...

I'm asleep.

Eventually, I stir awake. It's probably been hours since I drifted off. I rub my eyes, trying to wake myself up.

The circle is still complete.

I look up ahead of me, and my eyes instantly widen. I'm alert; my heartbeat quickens at the sight I'm seeing.

It's my grandmother.

"What are you?" I let out in a soft exhale, my eyes welling with tears.

"You know what I am," it responds, its voice cold and monotonous.

I don't know if this is one of the tricks the house is playing or if it's really her.

But I don't care.

I throw all of that out the window and quickly ask the question I've been holding inside me for so long, hoping to finally get the answer I've been seeking.

"Why?"

I say it with all the willpower I can muster.

It responds.

"It's a curse that has lasted for generations. This family, this cursed home... we're forever bound to it by our bloodline. We can't let go, or it erases all of us. After your mother's death, I had to pick the next person who could inherit it.

"You."

Its voice sounds as cold as steel. Its fingers shift, crack, and bend into a skeletal form, pointing directly at me.

A sharp coldness runs down my spine as it speaks again.

"Let me in, Chase. Let me into the circle."

Its voice echoes through the shallow room. Even as it whispers, its tone remains orderly, yet demanding.

"You know I can't," I yell. "Even if you are her, I won't accept death... or whatever you bring me!"

My resolve tightens as I enter a clash of wills against the creature.

Its eyes bore into me.

I can tell, with a hundred percent certainty, that this...

This is my grandmother.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, right?

All I see is darkness.

A deep darkness that she has settled into.

This is her. Maybe this is what she really was, without the mask of family hiding it.

"Fine," she says.

Her voice shifts, becoming more monstrous. More... demonic.

She quickly stands up, her bones twisting and turning. Her jaw unwinds until it's almost completely detached. Her eyeballs vanish, leaving nothing but darkness in their place.

Then she lets out an ear-piercing screech so loud that I instantly cover my ears.

Her mangled body moves around the salt circle at a rapid pace, so fast that she becomes little more than a blur. Her body twists further and further as she screams.

"CHASE! CHASE! CHASE! CHASE!"

Over and over again.

A never-ending noise.

"Stop... stop... JUST STOP!" I yell, sobbing and shaking profusely as I try to hold myself together.

Eventually, after what feels like forever, she stops.

Her head rolls to the side, her neck popping and cracking.

She walks backward, slowly stepping away, one step at a time, before drifting into the darkness of the hallway.

"Oh, thank God," I sob, utterly relieved.

I just pray that this is over. That this curse in my bloodline can be bound for the month.

Suddenly, a knock comes from the door.

A much more commanding voice rings out from the other side.

"This is the Oklahoma City Police Department! Open up, sir! We heard a disturbance in the area!"

My hand automatically reaches out.

Whether it's fear or impatience, I don't even think. It's just instinct.

The tips of my fingers breach the salt threshold.

That's all it takes.

Darkness envelops the room.

The voice behind the door begins to laugh, as if choking on its own twisted joke.

"You really fell for that, huh?" it says darkly.

Shadows drench the entire room.

Before I can even pull a single finger back, a gray, lanky hand grabs me, pulling my fingers with unnatural force through the shadows.

My fingers bend with such force that it feels like they're about to tear apart.

My hand falls outside the salt circle.

Thousands of ghostly hands emerge from the shadows, grabbing my hand and pulling me even deeper inside.

The faces are familiar.

They're my family.

All the ones who have passed away.

They're pulling me into the abyss, shepherded by the tall, lanky, gray figure. Its jaw hangs unhinged in a twisted smile, and the ghastly figures of my family twist and contort to match it.

There's nothing I can do.

Their grip is too strong.

No matter how hard I've tried up to this moment, one mistake, made out of instinct and fear...let them win.

All I can do is scream.

"AHHHHH!"

I yell in pain and agonizing fear.

It isn't long before they pull my entire body into the darkness. I continue screaming, but my cries grow fainter and fainter as they drag me deeper into the abyss.

What's inside it?

I don't know.

But whatever awaits me is likely a fate worse than death itself.

"Onto the next one... feed me more," the gray, lanky man says, a dark chuckle escaping his throat.

The End.