Chapter 2: The Gray House
After nightfall, she skateboarded to the Gray House. She had forgotten her coat at the hotel, and so, was fully vulnerable to the chilly wind and the uncanny mist. She entered the house. It seemed regal. But it had a negative aura that screamed death. But Charlotte was oblivious to all that. She fearlessly went deeper into the huge manor, convinced, that there were no spirits or in this case, a banshee, or a Fred. Oh, thank god. She walked inside through the foyer and found herself under a big glass chandelier. This must've been a very beautiful house back in its time. Looking at the red, soft carpet under her feet, and the stained glasses, it would've been wonderful to visit this manor if it was maintained properly. She looked around and thought she heard low growls and indistinct whispers; but that was probably just her imagination. Was she hallucinating?
'Time to leave!' she told herself. She would've waited some more time, click some photos and played around with old stuff, but this place felt so lifeless and foul, it made her want to get out fast. She turned to leave and let out an ear-shattering shriek. A corpse hovered in front of her. It was a girl. Her hair was spilled over her face She looked at Charlotte from between her hair. With a rough gesture, she swiped her tartarean black hair out of her face and growled. "Why did it kill me?" She said in raspy and blood-curdling voice. The hair on Charlotte's body stood up and goosebumps covered her skin.
"Why did it kill me..." the voice echoed, and she found herself surrounded by vaporous corpses. Somehow she knew who they were – Lucie, her siblings, the cop. All dead people. But, if Lucie didn't kill them, then who did? What are they saying? Seriously Charlotte, if you stop to think about who killed them you'll end up frickin' dead too, she told herself. Charlotte had absolutely no time to think. The walls came closing on her as she ran out; but all the ways had been blocked. The only exit was the window. 'The house', Charlotte realized, 'its making me plummet to death.' But the window was the only way out. Before she could think twice, she took a couple of steps back and sprinted with all her energy to the window. She stepped on the window sill and leaped. It was a leap of faith. She thrust her hand out and caught ahold of the tree just outside.
Her camping skills kicked in and she scrambled down. She cursed and fumbled to find her skateboard and sped off on it, away from the house.
Her heart was still thumping in her chest when out of nowhere her phone rang and the tune of Despasito cut through the silence like a knife. The scenario would've been funny and Charlotte would've laughed if she had not just escaped the jaws of death. 'This is not the time', she thought and paused only when she reached the hotel. She thudded the door with a powerful push and threw herself on the bed. When she thought she was calm enough, she checked her phone and saw an unknown number. Weird. It had left a voicemail. She played it and her face turned pale. A hoarse, raspy voice boomed from her phone's speaker, "Saved you, didn't I..."
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