Short Story - House of Horrors

[Mindspank]

Wrote this a while ago. I dont much like it but its all I have for people to criticize so I submit it anyways. I dont write alot, save for my Dungeons and Dragons modules, but when I do its usualy not under good pretenses and it shows in my work. So here it is. its an acquired taste and needs work, but im leaving it as is. This is not a final draught. This was unedited and has remained as such, all of this is rough, so yeah. it took me about 30 minutes to write this.

**Warning. The contents are somewhat graphic. Reader beware, this might not be suitable for younger readers**

"House of Horrors"

A dollar twenty five.

That is all you need to take a look into the house of horrors. Thats all it takes to lose yourself in its sublime madness. When you approach the house, its dark, rustic look almost convinces you that it should not be there any longer. Rust pours from the exposed hinges on the storm shutters, which are now non exsistant, Probably fell off ages ago. The thunder in the distance gives the impression that this is some kind of ominous object. The rain falls slowly, in small, singular drops. Chaoticly.

The somewhat oblong shaped, overweight gentlemen asks you for your ticket. Your ticket that you paid a dollar twenty five for. You hand it to him and he opens the gates. The gates creek and grind as if they have never opened before. Little flakes of rust fall from the gates joints as a slight metallic smell enters your nose. Quite the same as if you put a penny in your mouth. He steps aside, the putrid inbred carny swine, smelling of old stale cigars and microwave ravioli. If you knew what you know now, you would have told him to shove his ticket up his ass, and got a refund, but you dont, now do you?

Up the stairs you walk, closer and closer to the door, or lack thereof. The archway gives way to total darkness. Inside you notice that the light from the door has faded away, though you have taken no forward moving steps. No turning back. You see a small light appear from the ceiling. As it grows brighter, it illuminates a mirror. You approach the mirror slowly, investigating its design, scrutinizing its structure. The mirror has a faded look about the glass. Slight imperfections, waves if you will, in the glass. An old, crusted dusty kind of fade around the edges and the center cleared away, but still slightly wavy.

As you begin to investigate the mirror closer, you see a hazy swirl inside of it. Looking behind you, you see no such thing. No fog, no swirl. Looking back into the mirror, you see someone begin to appear. He is sitting inside a room. This room has one window It has a bed, and it has a desk. On the nightstand by the bed is a plant. This plant is slightly withered, giving a rubbery appearance. He waters the plant every day. He sits and talks to it, he gave it a name. Tyler. He named his plant tyler. Everyday at the same time he waters this plant, and every day it gets weaker and weaker. He loved this plant with every fiber of his being.

As the hours turned to days, and the days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years, he sat at his desk, clenching his locket. And when he clenched his locket, he would begin writing on a piece of paper. One day, he went to water his plant, and the final leaf fell from the brown, dead plant, taking his love with it. All of his love was put into that plant, and now its gone. And now this feeling of love was replaced by something else. Whatever this was, this was not the feeling he knew. This feeling began to change him. It changed him from the inside out. It devoured him. This feeling that he could not place...consumed him. He became this feeling, and was no longer himself. After time, he gave this feeling a name. Odin. Rage. Frenzy. All of the things that encompassed him. What little of him was left that could reckognize the transformation.

He began to systematicly destroy his room. Piece by piece. He clawed at the wood, splintering his fingers, jamming wood underneith his fingernails. From this he would begin to claw at his face. Flesh tearing, blood pouring. Pouring like his love for tyler. The one in which his waking hours were spent dreaming of. He personified the plant, giving him thoughts, feelings. All these things rushing through his head, screaming like the living whos flesh was being consumed by the flames of hell. He begins to claw at the walls, smashing bone and glass. Repeatedly striking the now cement floors with a closed fist. Scratching the pavement untill his fingers are nothing but bone sticks. Bone breaking, splintering the skin. He begins to pull his hair out. Then out of the window, he begins to hear a chirping.

A small white bird has perched itself outside of his window. It stares at him adoringly. Lovingly. As if he was all it ever saw. Not knowing what to do, he began to collect himself. He staved off the appearance of his insanity, and tried to calmly approach the bird. The bird flew into his room and perched itself on the flower pot, now taking tylers place. He looks at the bird lovingly. It looks back trusting. Placing its life in his hands. For once, Odin was sedated. He began to feel again. This bird taught him that there was more to life than tyler. He named the bird Sarah. Innocent, sweet Sarah.

For months, Sarah was his new companion. He felt renewed life in the trust that she gave him. She loved him for who he was, regardless of what he did. He started to feel the pieces fall back into place. He was reclaiming his soul from the retched Terrasque Odin. He was beginning anew.

One day he was feeding sarah, and accidently pricked her skin. His actions caused her to move away from him. He was perplexed as to why she would move away from him with such vigor. Suddenly, from the dark recesses of his mind, he saw a single leaf fall to the floor. The thud from the leaf echoed all throughout his mind and body, and from the depths of his psyche, he felt the evil arrise. The Terrasque has risin. Odin was returning. Trying to calm himself long enough to explain what was happening to Sarah, he tried to push her away quickly, tried to shoo her out the window. It was too late. The monster from within had risin and she could see it in his eyes. Knowing this would be her final moments on earth, she looked into his eyes one final time lovingly, before Odin ripped her in half. He skinned her with his bare hands, tore her feathers apart and ate her insides like it was candy. He took such pleasure in devouring her. All the while he was powerless to do anything. He watched as Odin destroyed everything he loved in one fleeting moment. Her head was all that remained. Her beady little eyes still staring at him lovingly, as her brain began to fire rapid random synapsys, one final time. Her final thoughts, were of him.

Rage consumed him again, he began to jump up and down spazzticly like a hyperactive chimpanzie, slamming himself against the ground. Legs broken, arms battered, he began to slam his own head against the blistered concrete. His head became flatter and flatter as his brain started to become visible through the patches of missing hair, torn away earlier. His brain beginning to cease bodily functions in order to preserve itself, began to fire random synapses.

Broken, bleeding, hollow, Odin began to subside, and he began to see the scope of what he had done. He laid there in a pool of his own fluids, and began to write on the floor in his blood. He then cracked open the locket, and died.

While looking through this mirror, you see that the locket says "You will not know love. All you touch will be tainted. All you cherish will be destroyed. you will die alone, miserable, in a violent fashion." A slight breeze begins to blow through the room, strewing about the papers from the desk. They begin to fall across the room like gentle snowflakes, each piece saying "Im Sorry."

The writing on the floor was meaningless garble, much like his entire life. A testiment to nothingness in which he committed his lonely exsistence to. But alas, was it not Edgar Allan Poe who said "Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."? I dont think so.

The tour of the house has ended, and no one will even elaborate at what they saw. What YOU saw is all that is important.

Make the best of what you have with the time you have. You never know when something, or someone, will destroy everything you love, and eventually you.

-Fin-

[Zodiac]

Eh kinda creepy wierd but Is very Nicsh.... A+

[Mindspank]

Yeah. I get weirded out when I read it too. Im generally weary to submit it for criticisim, but everyone thats read it likes it so, I continue to submit it.

I still have not figured out if it means anything.