Cautiously pushing the heavy gates open, the touch of iron bars - as cold as ice - seized up my hand completely and a cool shudder trickled down my spine. Even though I could feel the unevenness of the old cobbled path beneath me, they were very smooth in contrast to the crunching of the odd dead leaf that I stepped on. Bravely, carrying on up the …show more content…
The leaves rustled as if they were whispering, warning me not to enter. Suddenly I began to taste fear... The moon shone bright white like a beacon of hope; it was the only source of light and hope for miles; the sharp piercing cloud passed over it. Decimating all hope.
The robust Victorian stained glass windows rattled vigorously, howling in the wind. A few potted plants lay next to the loathed front door; once there for neat presentation; now wilted and light brown, almost certainly dead. The door had been left ajar for years... Resentfully I wrapped my still seized palm around the cloudy golden door handle, applying what I thought to be a sufficient force.
Fearlessly I entered. Glancing around nervously, I saw somber portraits staring at me behind layers of dust, seemingly penetrating my very being. Cold, hesitant light streams shone through tiny holes from the leaking, rotten floorboards - casting eerie shadows upon the walls - I felt someone's presence. Whirling around, I saw nothing but an empty hallway and the faces of the portraits staring at me. 'Turn back now' they seem to say, but I swallowed a nervous gulp and continued into the dark bowels of the