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I look down at the old, rotted wood stairs, and my heart beats a little faster. I’ve done this a million times, but still, every time I do it, my heart beats like a drum, and I start sweating like crazy. The place is silent, and I feel as though that’s the way it should be, with nobody messing with it. I decide that the inner voice is not really true, it’s just an old factory, right?
I reach into my pocket to pull out my camera, and take a quick photo of the building from the outside. Snap! I look down at the photo, and see something in the window.
“Come on Matt, it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you. There’s nothing in the window.” I say to myself, even though I’m not so sure.
I walk to the door and put a hand on the handle. I take a deep breath, and turn the knob, walking into the old abandoned factory. As soon as I step foot in the first room, I feel a quick rush of adrenaline and fear.
I take another quick picture, and grin at how awesome this place is. Crash! I jerk my head up and look around, trying to see if there’s anyone close to me.
“Come on Matt,” I say to myself. “It’s just a wild animal. Nothing to be scared of.”
I walk on, and look around, trying to decide which room to go in. I decide on the door on the right, but when I try to open it, it’s locked. I try the other door, and it opens fairly easily. I poke my head in the room and snap a photo, and look at the picture, trying to see what is in the room. After a few seconds of looking at it, I walk into it. Every now and then, I take a few pictures of certain things in the room, but other than that, I mainly walk through. SLAM!
I jerk my body around and look at the door I came through, which is now shut tightly and locked. I start pulling at the door, trying to get out, but it doesn’t work. I turn around and try to think of a way to get out of this, but that’s when I see something.
I start to walk backwards, because it’s walking forwards, until I’m up against the wall and it’s still walking towards me. Its face is like a piece of paper, and its fingers are brittle bone. It is tall as a tree, and it wears a hat that seems like he is from Texas, which is weird, because I'm in Michigan.
“Matthew Mashman,” it says, its voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard. “You have interfered with the sacred silence of the dead men. For that, you must pay.”
It points a bony finger at me and walks so that it's right up in my face, its finger digging into the side of my neck. It pushes the tip of the finger into my neck slowly, and I scream in pain. I start to feel a warm liquid soak my shirt. I look down, but I don't see anything but black and its face.
As it stares at me, its finger digging into my neck, it starts mumbling, and grabs my face with both hands.
“Because you interfered with the sacred silence, you will become one of the dead men who keep it.” I start kicking wildly, but it does nothing. I can hear my bones cracking under the thing's strength, but I don’t feel anything.
I slowly close my eyes, and the last thing I see is its hollowed eyes staring at me, and it repeating the words, “My name is Ashum, and I am the keeper of the sacred silence.”