By
MASIMBA JUNIOR MUTODZA
THE HOUSE
The house had been abandoned for decades, its grandeur and beauty slowly being consumed by the passing of time. The once-majestic mansion stood as a haunting testament to the transience of life. I stepped inside, my footsteps echoing through the empty halls.
As I explored, I stumbled upon a room that seemed frozen in time. A single, flickering candle cast eerie shadows on the walls. I approached the bed, where a figure lay motionless under the covers. Suddenly, the candle went out, plunging me into darkness.
I fumbled for my flashlight, but when the light flickered on, I saw something that made my blood run cold. The figure had turned its head, its eyes black as coal, staring straight at me. I tried to run, but my feet felt heavy, as if rooted to the spot.
The figure slowly sat up, its gaze never wavering. I felt a chill run down my spine as it whispered a single word: "Welcome."
I don't remember how I got out of there, but I never went back. Some secrets are better left unspoken.
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THE END
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