The Creepy old House

The old house at the end of the road had always been a source of fascination for me. It stood there, looming over the other houses, with its broken windows, doors and peeling paint. I had heard rumors that it was haunted, that strange sounds people hear, and strange things happened there in the dead of night. But I had never believed them, until one fateful night.

It was a dark and stormy night, the kind of night that sends chills down your spine. I was driving home from a friend's house alone, and as I passed the old house, I saw something that made me hit the brakes. There was a figure standing in the window, a figure with glowing eyes and a twisted grin.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I rubbed my eyes, thinking it was just my imagination, but when I looked again, the figure was still there. And then, it disappeared from my view.

I knew that I had to investigate. I parked my car on the side of the road and walked up to the house. The front door was open, creaking ominously in the wind. Its so scary, and I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should turn back, but my curiosity got the better of me.

I stepped inside, and the door slammed shut behind me, cutting off the sound of the storm. The house was completely silent, except for the sound of my own breathing. I looked around, trying to find any sign of the figure I had seen in the window.

And then, I heard it. A low, guttural growl, coming from somewhere deep within the house. It was a sound that chilled me to the bone, and I knew that I had made a mistake in coming here.

I turned to leave, but the door was locked. I tried to force it open, but it wouldn't budge. And then, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Heavy, thudding footsteps that shook the entire house.

I backed away, until I was backed up against the wall. And then, it appeared. The figure from the window, with its glowing eyes and twisted grin. It was taller than any man, with a face that was twisted in anger and hatred.

It lunged at me, and I stumbled backwards, falling down the stairs. I felt the bones in my legs snap, and I screamed in agony with pain. The figure towered over me, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

And then, I woke up. It had all been a dream, a nightmare brought on by my fascination with the old house. I lay in my bed, shaking with fear, my heart was pounding and then I heard a sound that made my blood run cold.

The sound of the footsteps, coming from somewhere deep within the house. I sat up, clutching the sheets, and then saw the figure standing in the corner of my room. It was surely real, it was here, and it was going to kill me now.

I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I tried to move, but I was paralyzed with fear. And then, the figure was upon me, its hands closing around my throat, squeezing the life out of me.

I died that night, alone in my bed, with the figure from the old house standing over me. And now, I haunt the house, just like it haunted me. We are trapped here, forever, in a nightmare that never ends.