*H.O.W.T.O.S.U.R.V.I.V.E.A.S.C.A.R.Y.S.T.O.R.Y.*

M.O.R.A.L.O.N.E.

Stephen tiptoed through the dusty corridors of the old Manson mansion. With the floorboards creaking noisily and the wind whistling through the empty window sockets, it was a perfect ghost house.

All it needed now was a few ghosts and an unknown trap door, and there you have it, the perfect carnival attraction at Halloween...

"Hello?" Stephen echoed.

"Is anyone in here!" He yelped, as this was the source of the screaming he heard.

He sneaked in searching every spec of detail of the house, seeing the old pictures, of the now dead family. What happened to them? Nobody knows, but no-one had ever entered the house since, until today that is...

A gush of wind flew past from behind. He buckled round, yet saw nothing.

"Hello!" he repeated walking in the direction he thought the wind blew.

"Is anyone here?" he tiptoed as lightly as he could through the hollowed mansion, feeling the tension build up inside of him.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, it's only a rusty wound up, kinda creepy mansion, with a few spiders and rats here and there..." Stephen told himself, feeling his nerves break loose and making shivers in his walk. The tiptoeing was now a kind of flinching tap-dance.

He peeked round the corner of the emptiest room and pondered in, exploring the fireplace, and the bookshelves. That's when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stick up on end, and when his blood turned cold. With the sweat running down from his forehead to his neck, he slowly turned face to face with the thing that sent chills through his soul.

He looked, and it was just some girl, pretty innocent looking, But he sort of recognised her... he didn't know her, yet she seemed too familiar.

She had rosy cheeks, a small puffy red dress, pigtails, and a bow in her hair, only about seven or eight years old... She sat there with an everlasting glare straight ahead, towards a door, sat still, legs crossed, and hands in her lap, as if waiting for something, or someone.

"Are you okay there little girl?" she didn't stir. Just constantly staring

"Are you lost sweetheart?" not even a blink.

"Do you want me to call someone for you?" he couldn't even hear her breathing.

"Kid, what's the matter?" He said kneeling down to her height. She twitched slightly, and then carried on staring.

"It's okay darling, I can help you, whatever the matter is... are you running away?" The girl flinched her head to Stephen then her eyes widened.

"I'm not running away." She finally replied to him. "But you should run away. Old man. "

Stephen smirked at her, "I can help you, and I don't want to leave you on your own, a little girl like you isn't safe in a creepy place like this..."

She tightened her eyes slightly and clenched her jaw, then tilted her head slightly. "I don't think a man like you is safe in a creepy place like this..."

Stephen leant away from the girl slightly, he heard ringing in his ears, but it was ongoing, usually if he stuck his finger in his ears, or shook his head a bit it would go, but now it wasn't. It wouldn't get any better, it wouldn't get any worse. He flicked a glance at the girl.

The girl stared at him with a certain glare, which felt like it was entering his very soul, it was so strong that he had to stand and hold his temples for a while. He felt dizzy, extremely dizzy, he felt like he was going to puke any moment, but all he could do was stand there and watch the girl.

"Half a pound of tuppeny rice," the girl sang in a gentle, slow way... Stephen flicked open his eyes and looked confused at the pigtailed girl, who now looked demented, and possessed. Now Stephen felt really weird, his body felt different, like something had been put inside him.

"Half a pound of treacle..." Stephen fell to the floor and had to tighten his eyes slightly.

"That's the way the money goes..." Stephen saw her eyes lure over his body and then stare that haunting demon like stare.

He felt his heart beat faster, his lungs reaching out for more air, all of his organs working ten times their normal rate, and that constant ringing, that brain tingling ringing, he wanted it all to stop!

He felt his body expand, and then shrink vigorously, he saw his body going into all sorts of weird, un-usual shapes, and the girl could smell his fear and felt slightly bad, not that bad though...

He was panicking, slowly dying, and all he could do was look up into those now reddish eyes that were forever glaring at him, forever depressed looking...

He watched her step back from him, carefully and slowly. The last image he saw before going into the stage of darkness was the little girl's mouth saying the word...

"Pop."

That was when he went into unconsciousness, but for the little girl, it was a sight to see. The middle aged man's once bulky chest was now split open with all his guts and organs splattered over the walls and floors, and his now empty body now looked twice as big, as the explosion inside of him, would have caused at least a little bit of aftershock.

With his stomach on his crotch, and his intestine in his mouth, he looked an utter nightmare!

It was a blood bath, but the girl's emotion still was unchanged, she still had that innocent look about her, yet she still had those red looking eyes and that skill to make your soul feel horrified and lost, Like a half angel, half demon.

She glanced at the gore fest, wiped the man's white gooey fat off her little red dress and then sat back where she was sitting and stared at the door once again.

With a final glance at Stephen's left over's, (the Stephen who walked into help, yet ended up exploding from overpowered organs) her final comment of him after murdering him brutally was, "goes the weasel."


Lesson Number 1. Don't try to help anyone!


Okay, so I decided that I should try writing something horror-like, these are the results. I don't know whether I'll continue with it so just R&R and I'll decide later...

Find me a life
~The-One-Who-Needs-A-Life