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Something stepped into the room. I felt coldness then. Real coldness. The kind of coldness that told me something was close that didn't belong on this Earth.
I lifted the candle, its flame flickering eerie shadows that danced up the walls and onto the ceiling.
"Who's there?" I asked. "Who's there?!" My voice trembled even more then the hand holding the candle. There was no answer. Even the wind outside had fell silent. "Who's there?" I called out again. Again, no reply, but invisible boots grated on the flags as they stepped toward me. Nearer and nearer they came, and now I could hear breathing. Something big was breathing heavily. It sounded like a huge horse that had just pulled a heavy load up a steep hill.
At the very last moment the footsteps veered away from me and halted close to the window. I was holding my breath, and the thing by the window seemed to be breathing for us both, drawing great gulps of air into its lungs as if it never got enough.
Just when I could take it no longer, it gave a huge sigh that sounded weary and sad, and the invisible boots grated the flags once more,back toward the cellar door. When they thumoed their way down, I was able to breath again.
~~10 MINUTES LATER~~
12:00 A.M.---- Once again I heard the *thump* of the invisible boots coming down. The only part of me moving was my heart, which was beating so hard I feared it would crack my ribs. Then I realized something. Something terryfying. The steps weren't going to the window. The were coming at me! I felt myself being lifted roughly by the hair and skin at the nape of my neck. Then an invisible arm wrapped itslef aroung my body, pinning my arms to my sides. I tries to breath, but is was impossible! 'Death is coming..' I thought. Then I saw it: in the cellar, waiting for me, was a newly dug grave. Then it hit me: I was going to get buried alive! Then, all the sudden, a quick flash of black shadow zipped across, grabbed me, and fly away, out of the house, with me. Then it dropped me to the valley and dissapeared. If I wasn't in that situation, I wouldn't trust the black shadow. But I did. It saved my life in two ways: not being burried alive, and letting me breath....
- by RastaButter |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 11/10/2009 |
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- Title: A night with a ghost( Journal)
- Artist: RastaButter
- Description: Whats it like staying in a haunted house with an actual ghost, you ask? Find out! Read Jack Ward's journal!
- Date: 11/10/2009
- Tags: night with ghost
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