Eyes Like Emeralds

As twilight descended, the forest opened into a clearing.  It may have merely been the eerie shadows cast down by the ever present, ever despairing trees encircling the dell or maybe it was the ominous shack at the edge of the pines, but there was something about the place that sent a spine-tingling chill down my back.  Unwilling to return home after a mere half hour, I entered.

The walkway I entered into was lingering with the stench of dismay and regret.  It clearly had once been a lovely home with the old, empty picture framed draping the walls, but now each one was etched with disdain.

Walking forward into the dark sitting room my senses first noticed an unearthly music seeming to call from the very walls of the house, though the house had clearly been vacant for years.  While looking around I saw a crystal chandelier hanging from a rusted chain, and a clear inch of dust nearly entirely obscuring all surfaces, making them vaguely indistinguishable in the feeble moonlight attempting to seep through the dark curtains.  Exhaling, a cloud of the powdery substance erupted into the air, obscuring the little vision I had in this disparaging room.

I withdrew into the next room coughing.  The sound reverberated ominously into the now silent air. This room was empty except for a blackened chair covered with ash.  I walked forward cautiously as the floorboards creaked, a musty stench filled my nose.  This room more so than any of the others gave me an inexplicable,  soul-wrenching pain that echoed the hostile darkness.  Edging forward I hardly dared look, for fear of what lay beyond.  I stopped.  An unaccountable feeling washed over me, there was a sinister hand of terror groping for my heart.  With an effort and a shiver that had nothing to do with the physical iciness of the room, I started again.  Eyes closed I stepped in front of the armed chair.  My eyes snapped open and a barely stifled scream escaped me.

I ran.  Upon my hasty entering of the drawing room I saw a mirror, a mirror that I was sure had not been there moments before.  A figure on black faced me through it, examining the glass behind which it was encased.  The unworldly music started again, higher, stronger.  And I stood there motionless, petrified with nothing but adrenalin and terror pumping through my veins.  The figure stepped through the glass as though it were water, and indeed the surface that looked so solidly smooth was now distraught with deep ripples.  Motionlessly I stood there hoping that this were nothing but a dream.  A horrible, distressing, awful dream.  The figure was of an indistinct man, inches taller than myself.  He walked forward, an arm outstretched to me.  His hand felt like a shadow of death as he caressed my shoulder. The feeling came back to my legs.  I fled.

Once outside the cabin I immediately heard, rather than saw, a wolf howling to the bloody moon from his perch atop a cliff’s ridge as the demonic music began with the wind, flowing through the boards of the house.  The great beast leaped down at the sight of me.  I fled into the night once again.

I shall never forget that place.  Nor will ever forget the sight of what was in that blackened chair.  It had been a child, with a face like none that I've ever seen before, a face like an angel.  But there had been something devastating about her, her soft pale skin was twisted in fury.  Her limbs lay rigidly and stiff at her sides.  And her trusting emerald eyes shown the utmost hate, but there had been something there, as though she were not mad  at me, but at someone else and was hoping I would assist her.  Those eyes looked so familiar.  That poor young girl would be imprisoned in that house for the rest of eternity.



I made it myself! Good right? =P