The Riddle House
My partner and I stand in the front yard of the house we have been told to search. People say strange things happened here -and still do. My eyes roam over the forlorn garden, the dead rose bushes and lilies, and eventually my gaze rests on the cold grey facade of the house, manor, really. I can't help but shiver. There is an eerie silence, and I feel, the manor hasn't been inhabited for a long time.
I look back to the garden. The flowerbeds -what's left of them- are unkempt, the lawn is long and goes wildly all over the place, and the trees tower threatingly over us, bathing everything in shadows. We make our way to the manor. As I grasp the handle of the dark wooden door, I take a deep breath, and push the door open. Dust. Layers upon layers of dust and cobwebs everywhere. The huge entrance hall is richly decorated. Dark wooden furniture, and red carpets. Most of the rooms are of the likes. The dining room is dark and impressive. The thick crimson curtains let little sunshine enter. Vases of expensive china are in every corner, though they no longer hold flowers. A huge table is set, with plates and silverware for a whole party. As I come closer, I notice a fallen wine bottle. The red stain is still visible on the white tablecloth. It is then that I see the candelabrum. A shiver runs down my spine as I inspect it more closely: the branches were, in fact, no ordinary branches, but snakes. Their sinuous silver bodies curved upwards, their mouth open so that a candle fit snugly between the sharp teeth. Their ruby eyes gleamed in the dark.
I find I can hardly breathe. Creaking sounds. A cough. But it's just my partner. He looks as tense as I feel: his whole body is stiff as stone, his jaw is set, his fists clenched. A bead of sweat runs down from his brow. We, I, have seen enough. We rapidly make our way out, out of this damned house, away from this garden, to our car.
I take in a deep breath of fresh air, and a weight seems to have lifted off my chest. Why?
What were we doing here? Neither one of us knows anymore, and I find I don't care. The memory of it forever gone...