So the old mansion was abandoned until Melissa decided she wanted to see if the old legend was true. Alone, she opened the front door. The wood floors moaned and creaked as she walked trough the cold empty rooms. A foggy shape seemed to hover near the ceiling, but she didn't see it. Eyes cold and dead watched her pass under them. Goosebumps raised on Melissa's arms. She quickly looked around but saw nothing. A cold draft, damp and clammy, drifted around her legs, and despite the thick jeans she wore she could feel the chill in her bones. Her heart started pounding, but she still couldn't see anything, just the musty room, cold fireplace, and stairs leading to the upper floor.
Swallowing hard, she walked to the steps, and started going up, not seeing the front door behind her slowly shutting and the flitting mist hovering by it.
When she topped the stairs she felt a cold hand touch her shoulder! She spun around and nearly fell down the stairs, but no one was there. Now she was really scared. Then she heard it.
It seemed to be coming from the heart of the house. A clock striking midnight! Gripping the bannister tightly, Melissa held her breath, her knees shaking. Something was near! Something...but she couldn't see...and then a scream pierced the air so close to her she jumped. She practically leaped down the stairs as diabolical laughter echoed in her ears. Out the door, away from the house she ran; never to return.
(Wrote this for my niece Melissa many years ago.)
