Twenty-five year old Mackenzie stood in the driveway of her new house. The
budding young physicist managed to get a damned good career straight out of
college, and after a few years of saving, she was able to purchase a home
worthy of envy - it was two stories tall and had a lovely brick driveway.
It was definitely a home too large for a single person, but Mackenzie liked
a lot of room.
She didn't mind the creepy looking mansion on the hill down the road at all. It produced a rather classical feel to the area, and there was an enormous sense of mystery about it. She always loved a good mystery.
She stood and gazed at the manor for a while with an expression of curiosity, her arms folded across her chest, then made her way back into the house as the sun began to set. She drank some tea before going to bed, and after she fell asleep, she dreamed of haunted houses and pale ghosts.
The next morning was a Saturday and Mackenzie woke up early to go for a run. She ran around the neighborhood several times, and each time she ran in the direction of the giant hill that the mansion rested on, her curiosity grew. She wondered if anyone lived there and then instantly doubted it. She never saw any lights on up there. As she reached the end of the cul-de-sac, instead of running around it and back in the opposite direction like she normally would have done, she stopped and gazed up the hill. She was completely enthralled. She planted her hands on her hips and breathed heavily, then craned her neck around to see if anyone was watching her. Seeing that there was no one, without further consideration, she began to jog up the dirt road towards the abandoned mansion.
She reached an iron-wrought gate after about fifteen minutes. It was a hard run up the hill, and she was dripping with sweat. The gate was almost unnoticeable, for it was covered with overgrown vines and leaves. She opened it as delicately as possible and squeezed through. After closing it, she turned around and immediately gasped.
The front lawn of the mansion was a colorful garden of a variety of topiaries and flowering plants. Everything looked perfectly up kept and taken care of. Perhaps she had been wrong in assuming no one lived there. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at the collapsing buttresses and statues that adorned the outer walls.
How could anyone live here? she thought. The place is falling apart. It looks like it should be deemed condemned.
Mackenzie walked slowly towards the front door, marveling at the perfectly crafted animal topiaries. There was a stag that stood majestically off to the left, as though it was guarding the path, and a large serpent loomed to her right. There was also what appeared to be a large hand reaching right out of the ground.
She finally reached the door, and feeling a bit silly, rapped on the door with the large knocker. She could hear it echo on the other side, and knew the place had to be deserted. She took a deep breath, pushed on the massive wooden door, and stepped into the darkness.
She didn't mind the creepy looking mansion on the hill down the road at all. It produced a rather classical feel to the area, and there was an enormous sense of mystery about it. She always loved a good mystery.
She stood and gazed at the manor for a while with an expression of curiosity, her arms folded across her chest, then made her way back into the house as the sun began to set. She drank some tea before going to bed, and after she fell asleep, she dreamed of haunted houses and pale ghosts.
The next morning was a Saturday and Mackenzie woke up early to go for a run. She ran around the neighborhood several times, and each time she ran in the direction of the giant hill that the mansion rested on, her curiosity grew. She wondered if anyone lived there and then instantly doubted it. She never saw any lights on up there. As she reached the end of the cul-de-sac, instead of running around it and back in the opposite direction like she normally would have done, she stopped and gazed up the hill. She was completely enthralled. She planted her hands on her hips and breathed heavily, then craned her neck around to see if anyone was watching her. Seeing that there was no one, without further consideration, she began to jog up the dirt road towards the abandoned mansion.
She reached an iron-wrought gate after about fifteen minutes. It was a hard run up the hill, and she was dripping with sweat. The gate was almost unnoticeable, for it was covered with overgrown vines and leaves. She opened it as delicately as possible and squeezed through. After closing it, she turned around and immediately gasped.
The front lawn of the mansion was a colorful garden of a variety of topiaries and flowering plants. Everything looked perfectly up kept and taken care of. Perhaps she had been wrong in assuming no one lived there. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at the collapsing buttresses and statues that adorned the outer walls.
How could anyone live here? she thought. The place is falling apart. It looks like it should be deemed condemned.
Mackenzie walked slowly towards the front door, marveling at the perfectly crafted animal topiaries. There was a stag that stood majestically off to the left, as though it was guarding the path, and a large serpent loomed to her right. There was also what appeared to be a large hand reaching right out of the ground.
She finally reached the door, and feeling a bit silly, rapped on the door with the large knocker. She could hear it echo on the other side, and knew the place had to be deserted. She took a deep breath, pushed on the massive wooden door, and stepped into the darkness.