Haunted

The rusty door creaked open.

“The house seems to be abandoned since forever.”

“It is spooky.”

“I like spooky things,” he held her hands grinning like a fool, which she adored and entered their abode for the summers.

“There will be so much work to do.”

“I have called for the workers. They will come tomorrow and make the place livable for us.”

They had reached the center of the lobby and took a look around at the ancient tapestry and crimson walls in the mid-afternoon light; the floor was bare but for a carpet bathed in dust and a grandfather-chair in a corner.

“This house is not haunted, is it?” she meekly asked.

“Oh yes it is.”

She gasped at the mad look in his eyes and that cruel smile, she had never seen before. She trembled from within as some red fluid appeared on his lips and he snarled.

She ran for the old rusty door but it was somehow locked. She hastily looked back but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh god… oh god…”

A loud banging sound resounded from somewhere. Tears appeared in her eyes, “Please save me… oh please!”
“What has happened to him?”

She crouched down still at that very position and felt a dull ache at her chest.

Some one was coming for her; she could hear the footsteps, soft but not silent on the carpet. They sounded distant. She was in a dream world; sweaty, her entire body numb but for the sharp pain at her chest and her ribs.

“Are you okay, darling?”
“I was just joking with some help from…”

She felt a soft touch on her face and she looked up at him, into his eyes, now completely normal, gazing at her with fear or was it love, she did not know. She closed her own eyes shut, never to open them ever again.

 *Written for the Trifecta Challenge.

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Painting: A 100 Word Story

“Attention!”

Bright sunlight pierced his eyes as he stepped into the fine painting and heard a loud baritone, “Attention!”

He looked around to find out the place of origin of the deep voice. But there was nobody around nearby, except for a guard standing alert with a rifle facing upwards, held in his palms; his face impassive, devoid of any emotions and his dark eyes sparkling.

There were people at a distance but he was sure nobody could see him and the still life beside him.

“What are you looking at?” spoke someone from behind.

He returned back to the reality.

copyright –Managua Gunn

*Written in response of the Friday Fictioneers Writing Prompt.