The House Of Horrors Romane & Geschichten

He was lying face down, and face up, all at once. I live in that house now. I am the village "fixer." And every night, I listen to the scratching beneath the floorboards. I don't fear the ones that crawl. I fear the ones that wait. Because now I know that the most terrifying thing in the world isn't death—it’s a corpse that refuses to close its eyes.

Before George could finish, Father snatched up the bowl of broth and hurled it to the floor—bowl, soup, and all. "Shut your mouth!" He shot to his feet, eyes bloodshot like a raging lion—all trace of his earlier tenderness gone. "He is not my flesh and blood! He's the monster who killed Matthew! He's my enemy! I'd eat his flesh and sleep on his hide if I could! Say one more word about him in my presence, and you can pack your things and get the hell out of this house!"

For the first time, I see terror in his eyes. What more does he know about me? I assume enough. “Okay…not the start I imagined, but…I’ll live,” he limps ahead of me when we get to the exit door, and opens it, ushering me back in. “Ladies first?” I scoff and walk through, taking in the familiar scent of spices and perfumes. The party is a few blocks down in the main house, but evidence of the event still wafts all the way here. There are people perched around the dark corners, making out…some probably fucking. I didn’t notice them through the pump of adrenaline when I first tried to escape.

Looking at the sun blooming slowly while scattering its rays all over, it feels as if the darkness has surrendered itself to it and the horror of the previous night has been relieved bare for all to witness. Blake slowly moves his eyes across the hall. The blood is seen being splattered all over the wooden floor. The white walls, the original white couch, everything has been dyed in red and dried a long time ago. In some areas, the original color of the carpet can’t be seen at all. It is all in bloody red. Pieces of wolves being torn to shreds, bodies of what seem to be human as well as non-human and pieces of what used to be the door, all has been scattered all over the house.

I was still alone in the house, and that's when I realized that the intruders could be back. I was scared to turn the lights on. I quietly stepped into the hallway in the dark and waited to hear or see something, anything. After waiting for a while and feeling convinced that the explosive noise was not from this house, I walked back to my room. What's that burning smell, charred electric wires kind of stench? It was coming from the basement. I turned on lights all over the house before taking the steps down to the basement because I was terrified of old houses and basements ever since I watched the Conjuring movie. The door of the dryer was wide open, and most of the clothes turned to soot a

It tasted like fear and a fresh wave of humiliation. Something was terribly wrong with whatever was attached to this house, to this monstrous family. I didn't even know what exactly it was, what dark secrets they harbored, but it felt as if the very walls were breathing, holding centuries of secrets, and the polished marble floor beneath my feet was hiding untold pain, soaked in silent screams. The air itself felt thick with unspoken horrors. But then, like thunder rumbling from a sky that never warned of a storm, a sound that always made me flinch, Kade's voice rang out from above, cutting through the tense silence.

If that was at all possible. The door opened to a spotless foyer, the light tiles and dark walls contradicting each other perfectly. In the middle of the foyer, there was a mark on the ground, a mixture of a moon and a wolf-like creature. Right above the tiles was a large crystal-like chandelier, shimmering in the light and making the place that much brighter. To the left of the foyer, there was a big oak door and a staircase leading upstairs, followed by a cat-walk overlooking the foyer, a few doors along the way. Then the hallway disappearing further, leaving the foyer and venturing to another part of the house.

This is the first time and I immediately got goosebumps. "This house is like a haunted factory!" "How can it be a haunted factory! It's a normal house!" "That's ... all those partitions and all those machines ... and it looks abandoned, all parts of the house have glass that is not curtained ... and all the rooms are dimly lit, it seems abandoned and it's a horror house." I analyzed the house, yes indeed in my eyes that was the condition, from the front there were three rooms with each room having wide windows and no curtains, then inside there seemed to be machines and piles of goods. In my mind, it somehow seemed like a horror factory.

The only time the villa was ever this quiet and empty was after my mother’s death. A deep sense of dread and urgency quickens my steps and as I twist the doorknob, the first that hits me is the horrifying stench of death. My fingers fly to my lips to stifle a cry. Hugo sits in his chair, his neck bent at an unnatural angle with two, battered holes in them. Fangs. “Sainte Mere de Dieu (Holy Mother of God),” I breathe in disbelief, noting three more bodies on the floor, all sickly white, their faces contorted with pain and decay, their eyes, unseeing.