Sara: Hello everyone! This is our first fanfic to ever be published, and we're very excited!
Sky: ...
Sara: Well I am, anyway. *glares at Sky* So I know this doesn't sound very Harry Potter-like, but I toyed around with the idea of dementors, so I did put it in the Harry Potter category. And I know it's short, but I don't like dragging things out. And Sky really liked it so... Now that is done with ~ enjoy!
Sky: *sighs* You forgot the disclaimer. Harry Potter's not ours, it's JK Rowling's.
Sara: Happy now?
Sky: Not really. I just had to point that out.
Sara: Smart ass. Anyway. Enjoy!
Curiosity Kills the Cat
He didn't know what possessed him to go to the house. He was a curious man, and he had heard the many rumours trickling through the town… "Have you heard never has there been a person that has come out of that house… alive?" grimy bartenders would say to their customers, or several children would whisper among themselves, "They say there's some sort of monster living there… eats people right up!"
He didn't believe any of these things. It was just a derelict house that people liked to make jokes about on Hallowe'en, nothing more.
Nevertheless, he felt an unexplainable chill run down his spine as he walked up the hill. "Don't be afraid," he murmured to himself.
He drew his coat more tightly around him as a fierce wind whipped up. Pausing at the gate, he cast frantic glances at his surroundings. A squirrel scampered out from under a dead, emaciated tree. An owl gave a rather loud hoot, making him start. Otherwise, the terrain seemed lifeless. A look at the sky above, and he saw dark gray clouds rolling in. A clear sign of a storm.
Shivering and gasping in the cold, his breath coming harsh and sharp between his teeth, he reached the front steps. They creaked, tearing at his already frayed nerves. He prayed silently for the door to be locked.
But the doorknob turned easily in his trembling hand. He entered the house, closing the door behind him and immediately plunging himself into utter darkness. He had an odd sensation of being trapped in an airless cell.
It was cold in here, perhaps more so than outside. But his skin was cold with fear now, and it didn't faze him.
He looked around. He was standing in a dusty lounge. A few lumpy armchairs stood around an antique table, one of its legs broken. Mist or fog clung close to the ground, enveloping the sparse furniture in a nondescript veil. Several paintings, portraits, possibly, of the past owners of the house, lined the walls. They stared down at him with their glassy eyes, and he gave a squeak of terror.
"Okay," he whispered to himself, wondering if he was going mad. "I've seen the place, and now everyone will know that it's just a creepy old house, nothing more…"
He turned back to the door, his hand already turning the knob. But, as soon as he wrenched the door open, slimy, scabbed hands already grasped him around the neck, closed him from the outside world again. He felt the ragged edge of a cloak brush against his neck, and he was suddenly trembling all over.
"Let the police come," he begged, screamed, in his head. "Let someone hear me!" And he suddenly realized that he was screaming out loud, the air clawing up his dry throat.
The beast pinned him to the floor, jerking his jaw down, his mouth open wide. It leaned in as though for a kiss, but an inch from his mouth, a long, bright, silvery substance leaked out of it, which the creature devoured greedily. The screaming died down first. Then, slowly, he stopped thrashing. He looked out of glazed eyes, seeing the creature drag him through the house, feeling the air practically freezing to ice, but not caring for any of it at all.
Sara: Yay, first fic! Reviews are welcome :)~