Hold Your Breath

For some reason, all the kids would go there. Gather outside its rusty gates. Goading each other to go inside. See who could last the longest.

Rumor had it the original owner had moved into town well before any of them were born and had been a successful business man - owning many of the stores on main street. He was a man who loved his wife and when she passed, he began to lose grip with reality. His businesses began to falter until they drove themselves into the ground - eventually closing. Soon the man was hardly around - never leaving the house. Police eventually found him, hanging from the rafters of his bedroom - noose around his neck.

It was a ritual of the older boys to go inside during the night and try to outlast one another. Tonight was his night.

It was the night of his 15h birthday and after a couple weeks, his friends had finally convinced him to enter the mansion with another boy. He knew he didn't like the idea of it, but he went along with it anyway.

Walking up to the house was one of the most frightening experiences of his life. Even with a flashlight, the woods surrounding the house were a black void. Wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves, howling throughout the forrest. When they got to the door, he went first and reached out, grabbing the doorknob - only to pull his hand back quickly. The knob was ice cold - enough to sting his skin. He was too busy focusing on the cold that he didn't notice his friend running away down the path that they had come from.

Nervous and now alone, he pushed the door open, creaking as it widened to reveal the dust covered, now warped and stained wooden floor that stretched throughout the house. Stepping in, the floor groaned from his weight and he swore he could feel the whole foundation shift under his feet. Breathing in, he had to fight back a cough from the must that hung in the air - thick and potent. Shining his light throughout the entrance foyer, it was like it was snowing in the house - particles drifted through the air, lazily and without care.

Ahead of him was the grand staircase - leading to the second floor. His idea was to check if the rope was really in the bedroom and try to take a picture of it to impress his friends. Climbing the steps - they felt unsteady, ready to break and send him crashing through the floor down into the depths of the house. Luckily they didn't. Reaching the top - a hallway stretched out ahead of him. Walking down it, it was clear the bedroom was ahead of him. Forging ahead, he reached the door and pushed it open.

Thats when his flashlight began to flicker and his heart stopped. Every second he was left in the dark he wanted to scream. Shaking the light, it came back to life and stayed on.

There it was - hanging in the middle of the massive room, hanging from the rafters was the rope. Pulling out his camera thats when he noticed it was swaying - but there was no windows open and no breeze in the room.

He heard something. Breathing. Wheezing. And it wasn't his. He stopped, unsure of what to do.

Thats when the shuffling footsteps began - behind him, coming from the darkened corner of the room.

Without thought, he yelled and ran out of the room - dropping his camera as he went. It banged off the floor - causing the flash to go off, illuminating the room in a brilliant white. He swore the noise echoed through the house, following him until he raced out of the front door, out of breath. He didn't stop. He ran through the woods until his found his friends who were all there, waiting for him.

Back in the house - his camera lay on the ground, fresh picture still on its screen. Clearly visible was his blur as he ran out of the room. But there was something else.

Behind him in the corner, there was the distinct outline of a figure, gnarled with age.