House of Blood (Solo)

“Come on, come on!” The high, piping voice of his best friend echoed behind him as the young, brown haired boy edged closer and closer towards the door. The night air was thick and muggy around the two as they stared at the imposing brass knocker that leered down at them. The brown haired boy swallowed loudly, and looked back over his shoulder at his friend. Blue eyes sparkled with mischief as the second boy waved his hand cheerily. “Do it already! Come on, you’ve gotta! You took the dare Trav!” The brown haired boy - Trav - took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, looking back to the door.

The house was supposedly abandoned, and had been for as long as anyone knew of it. Old, worn out, boards falling down in places, stones looking like they were going to crumble into dust. The glass in the windows had long since been shattered, the fragments hanging in their frames looking like jagged, brown-stained teeth in front of gaping black maws. Already a recipe for tests of courage for the local children, something else had been happening that had made it even more enticing for the target of dares.

Every so often, in the deep of night, a faint red light could be seen shining from deep inside the house. Eerie shadows danced along the walls, silhouetted by that scarlet glow, writhing, twisting streaks of darkness. But when you looked again, or came with a light - nothing, no sign of life, no hints of light, no trace of movement within.

And now, Trav was going to be the first to actually fulfill a dare. Or so he swore -mostly because he didn’t want to have to carry out the punishment for flubbing out. He shivered. The thought of actually admitting to Arlene that he liked her and thought her hair was pretty was just too much for him. He could work up the courage to knock on the door to the old house, but that? That was just impossible. So he took a deep breath, and looked over his shoulder again, to see his friend folding his arms over his chest.

“Right. It’s just a door.” Just a door, with a brass knocker. Before the rush of courage could leave him, Trav reached up and grabbed the heavy knocker in his hand. It was weighty, more than he had expected, and strangely warm in his hand. He pushed it off as a result of the humid, warm night, and lifted it up. He let go, and it fell back to the plate with a loud gong. Trav stepped back, turning to look at his friend.

“There, I did it Erin!” He crowed out, triumphant. Erin hadn’t thought Trav would do it, Trav knew, but he had! It took him a moment to realize that Trav was staring at something over his shoulder, and the brown haired boy slowly turned around. His eyes widened. The door, which had, as far as any of the kids knew, remained an imposing barrier as long as they knew, had swung open silently behind him.

Within, a warm red light beckoned from deep within. It flickered in Trav’s eyes, dancing like the glow of a fire. There was an odd sound in his ears, like a faint cry in the distance, but those weren’t uncommon here in Radasanth, it was a bustling city. No, he pushed it away, listening to the soothing sound of his blood pulsing in his ears. He could hear his heartbeat, swelling in time with the dance of the scarlet light, and his eyes glazed over as he relaxed.

The house wasn’t scary, he didn’t know what all the rumors were about. That cry again, even fainter, was again ignored as he let the beat of his blood, and that warm red light entice him inwards.

Throb. Throb. Throb. Soothing, regular, nothing was wrong as he stepped over the threshold.


----

Erin was screaming at Trav, trying to get the other boy back, to stop what he was doing. His voice had gone raw, words incoherent as he stared in shock and fear. The door had opened when Trav dropped the knocker and turned around, and that’s when everything went wrong. Trav had turned around, and, and and -

It was like he was gone. It was slow at first, but he had slowly shuffled into the pitch black hallway, completely oblivious to Erin’s screams. Then the smell had reached the young boy, thick and heavy - copper, rusty and fouled. He recognized it, from helping his father in his butcher’s shop some days. Blood, and lots of it, the stench of blood was pouring out of that open doorway that Trav was walking through.

Terror was keeping Erin where he was as his friend stepped over the doorway, one hand feebly reaching out for Trav. Then before his paralyzed eyes, the door swung closed with a heavy thud and a loud click - and the smell of blood vanished. The grip of fear broke, and Erin ran, ran for his father.