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So, my friends and I were driving around one day during spring break. While I was driving past some old houses that were clustered together, my friend (his name was Jake) pointed over to a particularly old and possibly abandoned house.
"Hey, stop over there"
"Why? It's just an old house."
"Just stop there, you ass!"
I backed up and parked into the crumbly driveway.
After taking a closer look at the house and seeing it was, indeed, abandoned, me and him, being the idiotic teenagers we were, decided to explore it.
I tried the doorknob, It was unlocked.
As we walked in, it smelt like a house where they forgot to take the trash out for months.
There was only one or two tags on the walls, so I decided it wasn't a gang hangout yet. We looked around the '"living room" for a few minutes, trying to see if there was anything valuable to take. (Hey, we were teenagers)
It looked like whoever had been here before us had cleaned the place out of anything worth taking. All we saw was a moldy couch, some broken chairs and a scratched up dining table with the paint peeling off in chunks.
As we explored more of the house, we started seeing unnerving things, like scratch marks on the walls or small little dots of dried blood.
"Some animals probably got in, no big deal"
One of my friends, his name was Harley, being the scaredy cat of the group wanted to go home.
We, of course, convinced him to stay with some minor teasing about monsters lurking outside and what not.
"I'm telling you man," Harley said with a shaky voice. "There's something not right about this place."
"Yeah, and a monster's gonna pop out and eat us! Chill the fuck out dude."
Harley still looked around nervously every few minutes, but he continued with us.
When we got to the end of the hall we were walking down, we saw a door that had been padlocked. It looked like one of those old food pantries that have doors that fold like a sheet.
Jake, being the person he was, instantly went to trying to break the lock.
"It's locked, Jake...." I mumbled. Although, I knew that even if he had to use a blow torch, he was going to get that door unlocked.
After about 20 minutes of him screwing around with it, he ran outside and grabbed a big rock out of the street, ran back in, and then proceeded to bash the lock with all his might.
And then it fell off.
It was like one of those slow motion scenes in an action movie, it fell and banged against the floor.
Jake picked up the broken lock and tossed it up and down a few times.
"Shame, it was a really good lock."
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the doorknob.
"You're such a smart ass Jake." I told him as we looked into the now opened door way.
We were staring at the bottom of some stairs.
"All that trouble for a fucking attic?" I yelled.
"Calm down." Jake shoved me a little. "Why would someone lock the door to their attic? There's obviously something worth our time up there."
I rolled my eyes at him again.
As we climbed the stairs, we started to smell something putrid... like a animal in a heater smell.
Harley plugged his nose. "That smells horrible!"
When we came to the top of the stairs, there was yet again, another locked door.
Jake proceeded to smash the lock to bits like he did the last one, and we walked in.
We were horrified at what we saw.
It looked like a butcher shop!
Rotting animals and skeletons were everywhere. There were things like bone saws and meat cutters, everything you would expect to see in the back of the meat section of Walmart.
"...Guys..." Harley whispered, too scared to speak any louder. "Isn't that... Fresh blood?"
After the realization that whoever did this could be here, we ran the fuck down those stairs and out of that house.
Sometimes I still have nightmares about that experience.