Ezra opened the gate, half expecting it to topple over, but it didn't and the gate swung open with a creak. Continuing up the broken path, he hesitantly took a step onto the old porch which groaned beneath his weight. The floorboards did not give away and Ezra moved forward, his hand reaching out for the door handle. The door opened up to reveal a solemn darkness that felt like it would swallow him whole if he dared step into it. Calming his nerves, he took out his flashlight from his backpack and switched it on, the light peering into the shadows, exposing the dusty insides of the mansion. Ezra forced his stiff legs to move and took a tentative step inside, immediately shivering as a coldness enveloped him.
It was much colder inside than outside, probably from the poor insulation and decaying walls and broken windows, he thought as he rubbed his arms. There was a sinking feeling in the back of his mind, one that made his stomach churn with unease. It almost felt as if he had walked into a lair of a beast, awakening something that should have remained asleep. Something indescribably dreadful.
Ezra ignored these warning bells, pushing these feelings down as he stepped further into the house, gasping in fright when the door slammed shut behind him. "Must have been the wind," he mumbled out loud, not entirely believing his own words. He was here now and there was no turning back. The kids would forever make fun of him and he did not think his pride could ever recover from that, much less losing any possibility of ever making friends.
Glancing around the dusty hallway, his eyes skimmed over the peeling wallpaper decorated by frames containing unidentifiable pictures and he stopped under the nearest archway to his right. He took a deep breath, regretting the action instantly as he fought the urge to sneeze. Ezra walked to the archway and peered inside. It appeared to be a moderate-sized drawing room with a rusted candle-lit chandelier that hung above a broken table. There was a deep-red coloured loveseat with deep rips into its cushions and two matching arm chairs to accompany it in front of a modest fireplace. Stained rugs and thick curtains decorated the place, now molded, giving off a thick stench of must and on the floor were books long withered away from the dampness.
Wrinkling his nose, Ezra turned away having already seen enough of the room. Not much further down the hallway was the kitchen and an impressive staircase that spiraled up to the first floor. He decided to quickly peek inside the large kitchen whose black and white tiles were stained a dark red, which Ezra assumed was rust from the Victorian oven that had caved in long ago. Most of the cabinets had long since given away to rot, littering the floor with their remains.
"Only a clean freak would consider this place haunted," Ezra murmured to himself, amused. Thus far, just as he had anticipated, there had been nothing particularly odd about the house, even having expected the decaying interior and the stench that accompanied it. This was going to be really easy money with only having to deal with the boredom that would soon follow once he had finished exploring the building.
He exited the kitchen and that was when his steps faltered. There was a damp coldness to this place that seeped deep into Ezra's bones, earning him a violent shudder. It felt almost as if someone was watching him from the shadows, but that could not be right. There was no one else here other than him, however, he wondered for a brief moment if he had spoken too soon. Ezra scoffed at himself for even thinking such a thought. Of course ghosts did not exist and he chided himself for allowing such a foolish idea to cross his mind, blaming his classmates and television.
The hallway stretched much further down into the shadows but Ezra felt an odd pull to go up stairs. The staircase, although rotting, seemed stable enough to climb and Ezra hesitantly tested its strength by gingerly placing his foot upon the first step. It groaned as he placed his weight on it, but it did not give away as he paced his second foot on it. He grew more confident when the next few stairs also did not collapse, marveling at the strength of the wood.
Ezra stifled a scream, however, when his left foot broke through the rotting wood, causing him to lurch forward in surprise. After catching his breath and calming his heart down, he slowly pulled his foot up from the hole, wincing when his leg scraped against the splintered wood. Once out, he gingerly lifted his ripped pant leg to reveal a few bleeding scratches. They were mostly all superficial, not too deep but they stung nonetheless.
He inwardly cursed. Of all the things he brought along with him that night, he had not brought any disinfectant or bandaids. It would be a miracle if his wound did not get infected from this dump of a place, he thought to himself as he lowered his pants. Ezra grimaced at the idea of how embarrassing it would be if he died of an infection after his stay in a supposedly haunted house. He could only imagine it would only spur his classmates into thinking it was the will of the ghosts of the past, a curse to set foot in this place.
He rolled his eyes at the thought and continued onwards up the stairs, he might as well, considering he had already made it halfway. Ezra ignored the stinging of his leg as he placed his weight onto it with every careful step, now weary of the creaking wood beneath him. He considered himself fortunate enough to not have sprained it.
Ezra sighed in relief when he finally made it to the first floor, the wide hallway covered in carpet whose etchings had faded and lost its lustrous colours over the years. The feeling of someone watching him intensified up here, causing his hair on his neck to stand on end as a shiver ran its course through his body. He beamed his flashlight quickly down both ends of the hallways hoping to catch a glimpse of who was causing this feeling of unease, only to be met with empty space.
"This is getting ridiculous," he murmured to himself, frowning. "I must be losing my mind."
Shaking his head, he went down the shorter part of the hallway until he reached the last door that was already open for him as if in invitation. It was what Ezra assumed to be a lavish guest bedroom with a four-poster bed still neatly dressed as if awaiting visitors to arrive for the night. It was relatively intact despite the stale stench, though he couldn't say the same for the other pieces of furniture in the room. The closet's doors had already come off their hinges, lying rotting on the worn out carpets next to an equally worn out chair whose cushions had deep rip marks embedded into them. These were not the first cushions he had seen with tears in this house and he went to them for a closer inspection.
They almost looked like claw marks and Ezra was drawn to them, leaning in to trace the ripped fabrics. He idly wondered what kind of creature could have caused these. It would have been a large dog or a cat of some kind; perhaps an exotic pet that the owner of the mansion had. Then, from the corner of his eye, Ezra caught something and pulled away from the tears in the cushion. It had been a shadow and Ezra darted his light after it but found nothing.
He felt his stomach feel queasy as unease settled deep within his bones. His legs began to move towards the bed where he had seen the shadow disappear to and upon the lush sheets was a dark stain that travelled vertically down from the pillows towards the midpoint of the bed. Leaning in, Ezra deduced it to be blood - very old blood. He shied away from the stains when his thoughts dwelled on his literature class when he learnt about deflowering, blushing slightly in hopes that these stains weren't from said delicate topic.
Ezra, feeling too flustered to consider the possibility that the blood could have been from elsewhere, fled the room only to trip over an upturned corner of the carpet. Landing with a grunt, Ezra looked up to see reflected light glaring at him from a dozen eyeballs. His throat constricted with fear and he let out a scream when bats flew out from under the bed and through the shattered window. That would at least explain the shadow he had seen earlier, Ezra inwardly fumed, embarrassed at having been caught off guard in such a manner.
Getting up, he shuffled out of the bedroom and into the hallway that stretched out far and wide into the shadows. Ezra stalked by a few rooms, sparing quick glances rather than exploring, hoping for something more eye-catching. Most of them were small bedrooms and bathrooms, each in poorer condition than the last and he was starting to grow bored. What he had really wanted to see was the master bedroom. He could only imagine how magnificent it would be. When he did find it, the entrance to the master chambers were as exciting as Ezra had hoped; the wooden double doors engraved with fine craftsmanship, lavished by gold detailing. He held his breath as he pushed the door open and peered inside, casting light around the dark room.
Ezra's shoulders deflated with a small sense of disappointment when he was met mostly by sheet covered furnishings.
Faded Persian rugs scattered over the wooden floors, absorbing Ezra's footsteps as he went to examine the first piece of furniture. Pulling up the fabric, he peeked beneath and was greeted with a mahogany chest with gold and it was in relatively good condition. This came to a surprise considering the state of the rest of the house. He decided not to dwell on it, resisting the urge to open the drawers to peer inside and allowed the sheet to fall back over the dresser.
His attention turned to the grand bed placed in the far side of the room, adorned in deep reds of silk. It reeked of stale air but Ezra could not help but to press down with his hand and marveled at how much softer the mattress was than his bed back home. The sheets were velvet to the touch and he had found himself almost reluctant to withdraw his hand. If it weren't for the fact that the musty smell may never come out, he would have considered the idea of taking the sheets home.
Sighing, Ezra turned away from the bed and peered around the room to see what he could explore next. Near to the bed was a small yet elegant black fireplace and beside it was a thin, rectangular object draped in a sheet. He felt oddly compelled by it and Ezra briefly wondered if it was due to the fact that the sheets were red instead of a white like the other furnishings. Almost hesitantly, Ezra crouched and lifted up the covering and came face to face with a man, whose face was contorted in deep rage and hatred and stared into the boy's very soul with piercing, yellow eyes, cold as ice.
Ezra gasped in horror and recoiled from the demon-looking man, dropping the sheet and nearly lost his balance. He shuddered violently, still feeling the coldness seeping deep within his bones from the man's penetrating gaze. Grasping at his hammering heart, Ezra took deep breaths to regain his composure.
"It was only a painting," he breathed out in reassurance. "Only a painting."
Steeling his nerves, he dared to lift the drapes again to prove that it was indeed only a painting and that it could do him no harm. His mouth hung open in disbelief when the painting revealed the same, and yet different, man. The man was more human, his eyes a warm blue and his face was that of serenity and kindness.
"Maybe it was just a trick of the lighting," Ezra murmured out as he wearily stared at the painting a while longer before dropping the sheet. He straightened up from his crouched position and stiffened when he felt a sudden coldness followed by a warm weight brushing against his shoulders and neck. It almost felt as if it were a hand and Ezra twisted around, wildly flashing his light into the darkness. His heart stuttered when he found nothing, not even a shadow of what could have touched him. The warm touch was still there, penetrating through his hoodie and into his skin, and it made Ezra withdraw from the painting.
"Just my imagination," he murmured out, desperately trying to believe his words. Ezra did not believe in ghosts and other mythical creatures, and he did not want to start now. He had too much pride to have a change of heart, knowing that his classmates would only snicker in victory. No, this house was not haunted. Nodding his head in affirmation, Ezra decided to explore more to ease his anxious nerves.
There was a door, already ajar, nearby and Ezra pushed it open to walk into a large ensuite. It was surprisingly clean, the slightly chipped tiles were white and held no stains and the amenities were in decent condition despite the age and state of the house. And before Ezra knew it, he had found himself walking towards the opulent bathtub placed against the far wall. There was just something about the tub that made it so captivating, as to what it was exactly, Ezra did not know. His feet stopped and he leaned over the edge to peer inside.
There was a viscous looking fluid at the bottom of the tub and against his better judgement, Ezra felt himself mesmerised by it, dipping his finger into the liquid. The spell was broken instantly and Ezra recoiled in horror. The liquid was warm, and his heart pounded as he looked down at his fingers and his stomach churned in disgust causing him to almost gag. It was blood. The bathtub was filled with warm blood.
The realisation made Ezra take a step back, his feet heavy from the shock, and suddenly he found himself falling backwards, having slipped on something wet. He landed with a painful grunt as his head came into contact with the tiled floor, and it took him a moment to dispel the dizziness. Groaning, he slowly sat up, rubbing the bruise that was already forming on the back of his skull and looked down to see what he had slipped on.
"What the-?!" His breath hitched as he stared at the red liquid staining the tiles, it had been blood. The once pristine bathroom was now drenched with oozing fluid and Ezra scrambled to his feet in terror, nearly losing his footing again as his shoes fought for purchase against the wet floor. Ezra did not even stop as he bolted out of the bedroom and down the stairs, forgetting about the broken step.
His foot fell through the hole, again, and Ezra screamed in fright as he fell forward, tumbling down the staircase. He landed with a thud and he laid there on the floor for a moment, dazed and in pain. His body ached from bruises and his ankle throbbed with a sharp stinging sensation and Ezra was certain that this time he had sprained his ankle. He hissed as he moved carefully into an upright position, using the wall for support and gingerly lifted his blood-stained pants to reveal his ankle glaring back at him in an angry shade of red and very swollen.
Suddenly, the night at the mansion did not seem so fun anymore. Ezra wanted nothing more than to be home in the comfort of his bed, but considering the condition he was in, he knew it would be unwise to tread the already barely visible paths in the dark. From the window above the front door, Ezra could see that clouds had gathered, blocking any tendrils of light offered by the moon and in the silence, he could hear the pitter-pattering sound of rain against the black windows.
Heaving a sigh of misery, Ezra leaned forward to shrug off his backpack and grabbed the blanket from within. A plastic bag fell out and it took him a moment to realise they were the cookies his mom had made him, now crushed into finer pieces after having been tossed down the stairs and having his weight placed onto it. His eyes misted as he grabbed the ziplock bag after snuggling into his blankets and opened it. He missed his mom in that moment, wanting nothing more than to be cuddling with his family on the couch, watching horror movies like they usually did this time of year.
Ezra munched on the cookies, feeling somewhat more relaxed with the taste of home. He could not explain what had happened upstairs in the master chambers; the feeling of someone brushing against him, the bloodbath that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere in the bathroom. But his logical, more stubborn side still refused the possibility of ghosts. It had to be Zare, Jai, and Kevin pulling his leg, tricking him into believing that they had not joined him on his trip to the mansion. It was, after all, them who had dared Ezra to stay the night here, and they were certain that the boy would be frightened, and besides, he doubted that they would want to cough up the hundred bucks should Ezra succeed.
Scowling at the bloodstains on his jeans, Ezra nodded his head with confidence. Yes, the blood had to be fake, placed there by his classmates with the hope of giving him a good scare, in which they had been successful. And yet, the unease did not dissipate with these thoughts as the feeling of someone watching him continued. This was totally not worth the hundred dollars anymore.
There was a sudden thud coming from the lounge room, causing Ezra to jump, dropping the cookie he had been munching on. He held his breath as he waited for something else to happen, but nothing did as silence filled the room other than the continuous dull sound of rain. Steeling his nerves, he lowered the bag of cookies, setting them next to his backpack as he used the wall to help him up onto his feet. He continued to use the wall to aid him as Ezra shuffled towards the lounge room with an awkward gait as he tried to use his injured leg as little as possible.
He shouldn't even be doing this, suddenly feeling very much like the typical characters from horror movies that he had always made fun of. Ezra knew he should, instead, run away and hide anywhere safer and yet, his body kept going towards the lounge room. His heart pounded as he peered inside, shining his flashlight slowly across the room. No one was there. He huffed out a breath of air in irritation as he glared into the room.
"Okay guys," Ezra said, limping into the room. "You can come out now. Your pranks are no longer amusing."
He stiffened when he felt a hot wave of air waft down his neck before a hoarse voice whispered into his ear, "Oh, but it was very amusing to me."
Oh, kriff! He inwardly cursed, this was definitely not one of his classmates! Ezra hastily turned around and the light beamed onto an imposing figure with wild, yellow eyes. He gasped, lurching away with a scream when he realised it was the very same man from the painting upstairs. Losing his footing, he fell back and the flashlight clattered to the ground, flickering to reveal that the man was no longer there before finally giving out, encasing the room in darkness.
" No! " Ezra moaned out as he desperately whacked the flashlight into his palm in hopes of it turning on again. It didn't and his throat constricted with fear, panic overwhelming his senses as his eyes strained into the shadows, hoping to locate where the demon-like man could have disappeared off to. He knew that this creature was still out there, lurking, watching him like a hunter waiting to pounce on its prey.
Ezra had to get out of there. He could forget his stubborn pride, the delusional thoughts of his classmates pranking him no longer being believable. Ignoring his throbbing ankle, he pushed off the ground and began to crawl to where he remembered the doorway was. If he could make it there, then the front door would be just around the bend and then he could escape this wretched place, never to return.
His breath came out in ragged pants as he desperately clawed at the wooden floor and was overcome with relief when his fingers grabbed onto the ledge of the doorway. Ezra pulled himself forward when suddenly a claw seized his bad ankle and he howled in pain as he felt its sharp nails digging into his flesh. He fiercely fought to hold onto the doorway when something yanked him, and cried out when his fingers slipped. The wooden floor offered no purchase as splinters pierced into his skin as he was dragged back into the lounge room.
Ezra was suddenly hauled up to his feet and he struggled in the man's grip when a strong arm encircled itself around his chest, ensnaring his arms. He tried to kick instead but it was a futile effort when this man with inhuman strength did not budge, and tears began to fall down at the hopeless situation.
"Please," he whimpered out. "I-I'm sorry! I'll leave this place, just please don't hurt me!"
The man chuckled, his voice deep and rich with cold amusement.
"I don't intend for you to leave this place," he said into the boy's ears, and Ezra's heart dropped at the words. "I was cursed into a deep slumber until your presence somehow broke me from my stupor. Peculiar, isn't it?" He paused to chuckle before leaning in closer to Ezra's neck, and he froze when the creature took a deep whiff. "And now… now I'm starving ."
"N-no, wait!" The boy begged as a hand clawed Ezra's hair, pulling his head to the side to expose his neck more to the demon's mouth. "Pl-please, no-AAAAAAAHHHH!"
A shriek ripped from Ezra's throat when he felt sharp fangs sink into his neck. There was a searing pain, his skin felt as if it were on fire as the monster began sucking his blood. The realisation of what was happening shook Ezra to the core with horror and disbelief. This couldn't have been happening and yet it was, and he could feel the teeth dig deeper into his muscles. Helpless tears poured down his face.
His body began to go limp against his will, growing weaker as more blood left him. The pain began to fade away, replaced by an odd sensation of bliss as his head began to feel more and more light. Ezra leaned into the fangs, willing the creature closer as his eyes rolled back in euphoria. His vision began to darken as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier with every passing moment. There was a gurgling choking noise that sounded distant and distorted in his ears and it took him a moment to realise that it was coming from him.
Unable to keep his eyes open any longer, Ezra slipped out of consciousness, his world turning into a numb slate of darkness.