Chapter 8 - Return to the House
The afternoon sun was hidden behind thick, gray storm clouds when Arthur pulled into the driveway. The house looked ordinary from the outside, but Arthur could feel the malevolent energy radiating from it. He unlocked the front door, instantly hit by a blast of freezing air. The interior was completely silent, yet it felt as though someone was watching his every move. He walked slowly up the stairs, his boots crunching on something scattered across the steps. He looked down and saw hundreds of dead flies carpeting the wooden staircase. The metallic smell from the night before had returned, stronger and more putrid than ever. He reached the end of the hallway and stood before the white closet door. The wood of the door was warped and covered in deep, jagged scratch marks. Arthur gripped his heavy iron crowbar, ready to face whatever nightmare waited on the other side. He took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob.
