Back with some fiction! Many thanks to Rochelle!
PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart
The Haunting of Halloween House
Even thirty years later we don’t mention that night as if revealing what we’d experienced, seen, felt, might revive evil. We were Stephen-King-kind-of-terrified.
Going into Holland House on Halloween was supposed to be a joke. None of us believed the stories. Not really. Well. Honestly, I wondered.
“It’s just a house,” Billy said, shining his flashlight over black silhouettes.
We murmured partial agreements.
When we entered the house, the temperature fell about twenty degrees. I shivered.
“Did you hear footsteps?”
A scream. An opaque figure swooping down the grand stairs.
I ran, figuring everyone followed.
I was wrong.