John was not a very ordinary boy, no sir. He was... different as some might say. He had an unnatural interest in the paranormal. He owned many books, many of which gave him nightmares. Some of the worst you can can possiby imagine. Yet he continued to pursue his dreams of being a paranormal investigator.
John heard one day that a house down the street was now empty. Everybody had known that the old person who had lived there; Mr Pawkins, was a crazy person. He had claimed a dark creature with a horrible face had tried to attack him during the night. As you may expect, no one believed him. No one except John. John was fascinated by the story that Mr. Pawkins was telling all the townspeople. John decided that he was going to go and see if Pawkins was telling the truth.
So on a cold and gloomy night, John set out on his journey to the old house. He walked down the street, the only sounds he could hear were his shoes on the sidewalk. An owl hooted through the fog. A light rain began to fall. John didn't lose his spirit one bit. To him these conditions were a personal challenge. John decided then and there to not only find the creature, but to also snap a picture of it. He was determined, and nothing would change his mind.
The door on the house was an old, creaky door. It would spook the average person, but not John. He felt increasingly excited by the fact the house was so creepy.
Inside the house was a terrible sight. Broken chairs, overturned tables, among other things. One thing John noted was a kitchen knife on the ground. Pawkins was probably trying to use it to defend himself, John thought. He still pressed further, and wanted to find this creature no matter what it took.
Just then the door slammed shut and locked all by itself. John suddenly felt trapped, as he couldn't see any other escape route. He kept moving on, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up for the first time in a while.
What happened next scared John for real. Not your average scare, the scare when you feel like a lamb being stalked by a wolf. Knowing something isn't right, and that death may very well be near. The thing that scared him was something like no other.
A quick flash of lightning from outside lit up the hall he was in for a split second. At the end of that hall was a being with a terrible face, one so terrible that John almost fainted. After that brief second was over, John just wanted to leave the house. The house was strange though, for there were no windows in sight.
Maybe there is a window in the basement, John thought. So he decided to go into the basement. The stairs creaked on every step, and he could see a thick cloud of cobwebs all over the ceiling. John could see a window across the room. He began to run as fast as he ever had to the window. But as he jumped through, something caught him midway.
There, in the moonlight, was Mr Pawkins. Only now he was all black, holding a shenk in his hand.
"You know what they say, John. Curiosity killed the cat!"
John screamed as Pawkins was about to impale him. Before Pawkins could though, he was killed. John turned around, and there was the face.
"Thank you!" John exlaimed. "You saved my life!"
"Not for long," it said in a cold voice.
John just screamed and screamed, and people heard it. No one was able to find John or Pawkins ever again.