I’ve been held against my will in this room for about four days... luckily I have enough food and water to sustain myself. By now you’re probably wondering what exactly is keeping me from leaving. Well, here’s the story as best as I can remember.
My family seems as though they can’t decide what house suits them best, therefore, I end up having to move quite frequently. It never bothered me; I actually enjoyed it. I mean, some say variety is the spice of life, right? Anyway, about a week ago we moved from our house in Nevada to a new house in Seattle. I was content with this, considering I am absolutely in love with Seattle. The house we moved into seemed pretty nice; it was a fairly new neighborhood. The neighbors seemed nice too. When we moved in, it seemed that the entire street came to welcome us to their neighborhood. I even made some friends, Jack and Anthony. Jack and Anthony were brothers and their parents didn’t pay very good attention to them, so when summer came around we ended up spending most of it just hanging out outside, sometimes venturing from the placidness of our neighborhood, but that was only on rare occasions.
This was a rare occasion. It was about eleven in the morning, the time when we usually met up outside. I left my house and was soon greeted by a punch on the shoulder from Anthony and a “hey” from Jack. We just talked about school and how we despised it and wished the summer lasted forever. We finally decided to venture off from our neighborhood in search of something interesting. We came to a house that looked far older then the surrounding houses. I asked about it, and Jack’s eyes lit up.
He informed me that the house was built, but the buyers never moved in, so it’s usually the hangout spot for teens looking to get lucky or smoke. It sounded interesting, so I asked them about getting in. They said I wasn’t ready yet. I didn’t really know what they meant by that; I was so naïve then. The remaining weeks of summer came and went. On the last day, Jack and Anthony said I was ready for the house. I was pretty excited, not knowing what lay ahead. It was a little bit of a walk to the house, so I packed a bag with some water in case I needed it. I met up with Jack and Anthony. They didn’t seem as excited about the house as I did, but I figured they had already been there time and time again and had already lost interest.
We finally arrived and I was ready to just go in. Since I was a little kid, mystery intrigued me like nothing else. I remember one venture into the basement of one of my old houses. I didn’t find anything interesting, but I fell on the steps and scraped my knee. I never went down there again.
Anthony seemed to know how to get in. We went to the back of the house and crawled through a hole barely big enough for us to fit. We were inside. At first I saw a table and figured some teens that hung out here frequently decided to put it here. I was pretty thirsty, so I got a bottle out of my pack and took a long drink. That was when I noticed the fine china and elegant chairs. I asked Jack and Anthony where they had come from, but they shrugged their shoulders and we continued. I accidentally knocked over a plate and it shattered on the ground. At that moment I swore I heard something scratch against the wooden wall behind me. When I looked back, nothing was there. No scratch marks or anything. I disregarded it and went into the kitchen. There was more fine china again, but nothing else worth looking at.
When I went into the living room I saw a television set, a couch, a coffee table, and a door. The door didn’t look like the other doors in the house. It was as black as obsidian and had a glass handle. Me being myself, I decided to check it out. My two companions strongly advised me not to even look at it, but I just had to. Jack and Anthony decided to leave and said I was being stupid. I ignored them and focused my full attention on the door. I walked over and touched the handle and my hand jumped back. It was cold as ice. I grabbed a rag and put it over my hand and turned the handle. When the door opened and I looked in, I couldn’t see anything. The only thing I noticed was an extremely putrid odor. I then felt a sharp pain on the back of my head and I was out.
When I awoke, I noticed I was in a dimly lit room. I was lying on what looked to be a blood stained mattress. The odor was back. I saw some bones in the corner; some were human, others I couldn’t figure out what creature they came from. I then saw something in the corner. It was a face. I got up and walked slowly towards it. When I came into its view, its eyes opened and saw me. It said nothing; all it did was regurgitate a note.
Written on the note were the words, “curiosity killed the cat.”