The old creak of the house indicated the days, months, decades that had passed when this house wasn't looked after. From the stench old mold, and was that blood? The house barley stood up, it was surprising the walls were still here. Paint had chipped away and torn from the walls to show the moldy logs underneath the old 50's wallpaper.

It stood tall, a hunkering three stories high, black windows and over grown gardens. Ivy and beautiful Moring Glory vines stretched across the pathways and wrap around verandas. The wind howled almost too loudly as you traveled down the old cobblestone pathway. Hands crossed across your chest to contain the warmth as you climbed your way through the front door, as it squeaked on it's hinges, swinging open.

And as soon as the door swung open there was an odd chill in air, not like the cold air outside but it was stank, almost magical.. was that a laugh, a cackle? Shaking your head you would explore further in this abandoned house.