The Abandoned House

The Abandoned House

I drove down the long winding road, trees looming on either side blocking the setting sun. My headlights struggled to pierce the thickening shadows as dusk fell heavy around me. According to the GPS, I should be getting close to the empty property I hoped to purchase and renovate. It was perfectly located, away from the main roads but still close enough to the town for an easy commute.

The GPS signaled I was approaching the address and I slowed, peering into the darkness for any sign of the house. Suddenly, a break in the trees revealed an overgrown driveway leading into ghostly silence. I turned carefully onto the cracked asphalt and rumbled slowly up the rise, branches from either side scraping down the sides of the car.

At the top of the drive, an old two story farmhouse came into view silhouetted against the fading light. It was in far worse condition than the listing photos had implied. Vines crawled up crumbling bricks, shutters hung askew, and windows stared like hollow eyes into the void. An eerie stillness lay heavy over the grounds, not even the faintest rustle of birds or small creatures to be heard.

I parked and got out, listening intently as my door creaked shut in the unnatural hush. Gravel and fallen leaves crunched softly underfoot as I walked a slow circuit around the exterior, assessing the extent of the damage by the last rays of daylight. Rot and moisture had eaten deep into the wooden features, and one side of the wraparound porch sagged threateningly under my weight.

Coming back around to the front, I pulled out my phone to snap some documentation photos for the inspection report in the morning sun. As the flash lit up the facade, a flicker of movement above caught my eye. I zoomed in on an upstairs window, but nothing was there now. Shaking my head at shadows playing tricks in the dark, I returned to my car and loaded up for the night in a nearby motel, wanting a fresh look tomorrow.

Morning light did little to improve the house's appearance as I pulled up again shortly after dawn. If anything, details that had blended into the murk yesterday now stood out sharply in harsh relief. More photos were taken to fully capture the scope of necessary renovations. I moved to enter through the rotting front door but it was stuck fast. A solid shove popped it open with an awful groan, releasing a waft of must and decay into the still air.

Cautiously stepping inside, I paused to allow my eyes to adjust from the bright outdoors. Dust danced in slender rays piercing cracks in the boarded windows. Furniture loomed like ghostly silhouettes draped in ghostly shrouds. Raising my phone as a makeshift torch, I panned its dim glow around the foyer taking in peeling wallpaper, worn floorboards, cobwebs hanging in thick veils. A staircase rose ominously into the shadows on my right.

Methodically, I began my inspection of the ground floor, phone held aloft to light each room in turn. The kitchen was in ruins, appliances rusted relics from a bygone era. The parlor was stripped bare, fireplace gaping cold and empty. Finally, reaching a room at the back of the house, the phone slipped from numb fingers and crashed to the floor, flashlight beam spinning wildly. A shape detached itself from a far corner and lunged with a nail-rending shriek. I fell backwards with a choked yell, scrambling to regain my feet and flee. But as I scrabbled for the door, more shapes peeled from the darkness to bar my escape with gnashing teeth and glittering eyes. Cold hands clutched my ankles, dragging me back into the midnight depths as I screamed...

Waking with a start, I sat up panting in the motel bed, drenched in icy sweat. Moonlight spilled through a gap in heavy curtains, illuminating tendrils of dust motes dancing in the slat. Just a nightmare, brought on by too vivid an imagination in a strange place alone. But the images burned behind my eyelids, far too real and visceral to dismiss entirely. Unease wound tighter in my gut as I lay back, trying vainly to will sleep to claim me once more.

Come morning, I decided to forgo a second inspection of the house for now. The rural isolation and decaying grandeur must have combined in my sleeping mind to weave dark dreams. Best to let facts and logic prevail in daylight before making any rash decisions. I'd return to the city and do more research, perhaps bring along a contractor or structural engineer on a follow up visit. For now, that abandoned ruin would remain untouched, holding its mysteries behind clawing vines and barricaded doors. But I couldn't shake the lingering sensation of being watched all the long drive back to town, as if unseen eyes tracked my retreat into the waking world.