House Of Leaves Novelas e Histórias

THIRTEEN The man named Jack stood in the doorway. Only it wasn’t Jack. Sure, it looked like him, had the same muscular arms and tell-tale cheekbones as him; but this figure was not the same person who had been with Michael and the other passengers on the bus. Couldn’t be. This man was covered in gore and held a pair of long-bladed sewing scissors. Though it would be easy to dismiss Michael’s conclusion as pain warping perception, he believed—perhaps more than he’d believed anything—that the person emerging from the house wasn’t even a ‘he’ anymore, rather a thing, a thing that had lost the most important parts of itself along the line, debris trying to piece itself back together again, only

He pressed the button, and both of them got inside the elevator. They reached their apartment in no time. Harper entered the passcode on the door, and the door opened. Both of them were tired, and their hands were full of shopping bags. They wanted to slouch down on the couch as soon as they reached home, but both of them stopped in their tracks. Joseph's eyes were wide in shock. Harper wasn't much shocked. He seemed to be enjoying what was going on in front of him.

his home. the beam of light was green, a pissing green. strange columns, the sound of hinges and house keys,the kichen-- the hum from it-- the ever sounding non stoping hum. and what the heck it was, never went silent- -invented to destroy the peace. and the place he walked to, he hated the most, there was the love sit and then the floor pillow, on the love sit were travel bronchures , Damaris Cain's hair accessories and a business card.

And though I was lost in my mind, having an internal battle with myself, I made it home safely, with no accidents. But when I got to the front door, I noticed that it was slightly adjourned. I slipped through the door and hurried over to the fireplace. 'Two persons?' 'Three?' 'A lot.' I tried to figure out how many people I had to deal with. Then the smell hit me. "Russell?" I called out, placing the fire pick back down. 'Can't have you thinking that I'm deranged.' I heard a groan and hush talking. 'What the fuck? Does he have someone in my house?'

I turned to face Niro right away. He instantly shook his head while puckering his lips, and I immediately pouted. My shoulders immediately slumped because of disappointment. That's two thousand pesos, now that I think about it. We can already afford it with three of us. Additionally, it appears like there is furniture there. And the woman was pleading for me to get that house. I'm wondering why. I'm just inquisitive; I'm not a nosy person. It's preferable if you are aware of the cause. You see, we won't live there unless there are wicked spirits or things there that we can't see. It might possibly be the cause of my death.

My eyes scan the area to see nothing but trees and fallen leaves around the house. "Where?" Jimmy jerks his gun toward the house. "There." My eyes fall to a horror worse than risking my life on running. "No." "Basement" was a generous term for the hole in the ground I'm faced with now. It reminds me of an old root cellar or tornado shelter you see in movies, but worse. The single wooden door is open, revealing nothing but a small space of mud and darkness. Tree roots wrap around the outside, seeming to grow right from the house itself. I squint, but it doesn't help me see through the darkness.

He couldn't even wait for a year before showing up here. He didn't even bother to scout this place before coming. I built this house and installed cameras in every corner. There's a basement where we keep prisoners sometimes or torture them. There's a panic room and a secret tunnel that leads outside of this property. If Emiliana was here, I'd send her out that way. Luckily, she's not. Even Leo left after dropping that bomb. I'm alone with no distractions. And a lot of feelings to work through, as Sal put it. I don't need a therapist or a whore. This is how I do it. Staggering out of bed, I ignore the pounding in my head and head to my office. Moving straight to the bookshelves and pulling b

A dark silky straight hair and round marble dark eyes that have the color of the night. He continues to find the way, and after a few hours of walking he still hasn't found a single house. It was like a big one as per the woodcutter however, there’s not even a view of the roof or any. He was about to return when he stepped on something. It was a book. Picking it up, there is a burnt part on the cover, so it means the house must have been burnt or collapsed already but it is near. He continues his pursuit until it bears fruit, the remains of the house. The fire looks intentional, seeing how they made sure to burn everything down.

I finally pulled into her driveway and immediately knew something was wrong. I walked up to the door. It was opened slightly, so I walked in. "Leah? Are you here?" I called out nervously. The floor boards creaked under as I smashed heavy steps on it. "Leah this isn't funny. Stop joking around," I said. I walked a little further into the strangely empty house searching for her. Suddenly, behind me, I heard a noise. I spun around only to see Leah standing in a doorway but wait.... There wasn't a door there before. I looked again and noticed that the door was actually a part of the wall. It opened out to reveal a small room with a fridge, a small bed, and one chair.

The lantern flame shivered as if it could feel the sound. “Poios eísai…?” (Who’s there?) Red points opened in the dark—two at first, then another pair lower, wrong in their spacing. The light wobbled in his hands. He took a step back; the rack bit his spine. A shape uncoiled from shadow. Long where it shouldn’t be, jointed where bone had no right. The smell came first—iron and damp stone and something like old meat that remembered being warm. “Boítheia!”