Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
WRITING OBSTACLE
Create a description of a place that is typically thought to be haunted or scary.
This could be a real place, or somewhere you invent. Try to consider the language you use to create an atmosphere of fear or suspicion.
Writings
Ancient ruins are always thought to be haunted. Many think that the ghosts are going to come back and haunt them. But everyone has it wrong. The ghosts don’t come back to haunt us. They come back to share there stories. Unfortunately for us, there are often quite gruesome. Ok, sometimes a lot gruesome. But they want us to learn where they went wrong. Ghost just tend to be very pushy when they want to show you something.
The winding road is overgrown and the moonlight shines down on you as you walk up to the forgotten, rotting house in the middle of the woods. The rain patters lightly on your cheek, preparing for a downpour, and you hear distant thunder and see lightning in the dark, nearly black, clouds approaching. To find shelter from the storm, you walk up the steps of the house and they creak under each step as if warning you to turn back before you have gone too far. The wind whips through your hair and it sounds like all of the creatures of the night howling at one another. You reach for the old rusted door knob and pull open the wood rotten, moldy door.
As you pull it open a rush of cold and rotten smelling air greets you. You walk in and the room is dank and moldy. A shiver runs down your spine as the darkness of the room consumes you and any lingering light from the full moon outside. As you take another step towards the middle of the room the door behind you slams shut with much force and you spin around. No one is there. Despite feeling an eerie chill at your back you continue in and notice something on the floor,
An old, dry, blood stain in the shape of a body.
It’s continues in a trail to a closet as if the person were being dragged away. You take a few cautious steps towards the ominous closet and twist the knob. Just before you push open the door to investigate the obvious blood stains a bloodcurdling scream erupts from someone’s throat just behind you. You turn around and are greeted by a person with a bloody butcher knife clutched tightly in their right hand. Lightning illuminates the figure and shows a Jason Vorhees mask covering their identity. You look down to the right and notice where the scream came from. A women on the ground is clutching her chest that is spouting out torrents of blood onto the already massacred floor and pleading with her eyes for help. You try to scream but are too frozen by fear. The killer approaches you and raises up his knife just like they are always depicted in the movies and brings its down slashing straight through your neck. It was so quick and sharp you practically feel nothing.
You crumble to the floor gasping for air but only to get stabbed again right in the chest this time. You are covered in your own sticky, hot blood and feel as if you are drowning in pain and hot sticky water. As you take your final breath you look to see the killer take of their mask and you realize that it’s your best friend. Your friend meets your gaze, no remorse in their eyes, and then everything goes black.
You are dead.
There’s this hospital no one knows existed, some say that it’s haunted by a doctor who had died in the fire that left many without their love one and some say that the remains of the victims are still there.
Though it’s hard to believe the stories that were told over the internet, so I’m going to be the one to put an end to it and see if I can find out the truth behind the hospital fires and to see if their are still any souls still there.
“Hey Ma! I’m going out with friends.” I called out heading downstairs, “Though I’m going to be home late.”
“Alright dear, please be safe and whatever you do don’t go to that hospital.”
“Don’t worry I don’t have plans on going.”
“Good.” She smiled, “Have fun and I’ll see you when you get home.”
"First date at a cemetery? Yeah, I'm going to pass," I say, glaring at him and shaking my head. "I can't believe you brought me here. I don't mess with ghosts. If you were broke, you should have just said that." I turn my back to him and walk away.
"This isn't like any place you've ever been to." His voice softens into a plea. His hand touches my shoulder. "Give it sixty seconds. If you hate it, we'll leave and go somewhere else."
"Thirty seconds and I choose the burger joint." I stare squarely at him.
"Deal," he says and places his hand out for me to shake. We turn back to Cementerio Puerta del Cielo--Heaven's Door Cemetery. As we walk through the gate, bright lights flood the warm summer night. For the first time, I notice rose gardens lining the entryway. Red and pink flowers against a bright green backdrop of perfectly manicured grass and bushes in the shape of birds, butterflies, and other animals.
Rafael was right. I've never seen a more mesmerizing place. There was a familiarity to the animal-shaped bushes. It dawns on me. I understand why we're here.
Fingers of mine held the thin stick, Tipped with anticipating phosphorus The match was molded to burn a spark, setting motion a fire that yerns
With friction, the green powder tingles I flick and scratch the wood against the black grated rings It crosses the cardboard, etching moss-like skin on the box Instantly, a candles tip spawns from the ethereal maw
My fingers sear under the top, scooting away from the hot mess that kindled Holding my breath and my I hand, The fire escapes to the floor of twigs, and The brightness enamors me; My faces glows a ghostly orange Within the flames I stand, allowing light to crawl to the walls in a glowing mange
A haunted picture of several students with the witch in the background. Kids lined up to face their doom. The room is cold like the woman’s heart. And one mistake can lead you here. She is always watching. Even when you think your alone. And right now, she’s inside her lair. The colors are mostly black. The only splash of colors are the blood of her victims. The red door. A trophy sits in a dusty shelf, probably for most kids tormented in one day. Where am I? I’m in the principals office.
Lana giggled. “Come here, guys!” The three other girls huddled around Lena and her phone. “Okay, ready?”
“Yes!” A curly red haired girl, Millie, exclaimed. “And I think I speak for us all when I say that.”
Lana took a breath and dialed 911. They picked up almost immediately.
“Hello, 911, what’s your emergency?” The voice was female, and it sounded almost panicked and rushed.
“Omigosh!” Lana said, sounding scared, “me and my friends just saw a huge shady figure walking down North Maple Street! It was… big, like, bigger than a man.”
“Stay right there,” the woman over the phone commanded, mumbling something that sounded like a string of curses, “we’ve already gotten a report that something like this has happened tonight. Do not leave your house. We’ve got it under control. Thank you for calling.” And just like that she hung up.
Lana was gaping. Millie was clinging to Blake, the blonde girl beside her. And the last, a dark skinned girl named London, was shaking.
“Do you… do you guys want to close the blinds?” London asked, backing away from the window.
Lana nodded, but with a quick realization she put a finger to her nose. “Not it!” London and Blake quickly followed, leaving Millie groaning.
“Seriously!” She squeaked, tiptoeing over to the window reluctantly. She did a messy job of pulling the blinds and curtains closed. The blinds dropped, and at the noise all of them screamed, and Millie lost her balance and toppled into London.
“Sorry,” she groaned, massaging her hip. “Anyone else think… think that this is a dream?” Blake nodded, pinching Lana.
“Hey!” Lana said. “I felt that!”
“And that means…” Blake started cautiously, “that this is real.”
The lights started to flicker and they screamed hysterically. Then the room went black entirely.
“Guys?!” Lana shrieked.
“Lana!” Blake scooted closer to the huddling group of girls. “Does anyone have a flashlight?”
“On it!” In a split second Millie had switched on her phone flashlight and started twerking, as all Millie-like-girls would do in a situation like that.
“Millie! Not now,” London scolded, which was surprising, because London was usually in on the twerking trend.
“Wait…” Lana said, coming to a terrifying revelation, “what’s today?”
Millie peered at her phone screen. “It’s May 13th.”
Lana glanced around, barely able to see her friends faces from the light of the phone screen. “Isn’t it Friday?” Blake nodded shakily.
Silence hugged the girls, encasing them in chills. Until…
‘Every 212 days on Friday the 13th, I come out from the darkness and make my appearance…’ the voice was eerie and cold and crept down their spines. It sounded like something out of a horror movie.
Just like that, the phone light from Millie’s phone blinked out. “Millie?” London trembled, the bravest of the group to speak.
No response.
Lana held her breath, tears streaming down her cheeks. Silence popped, one by one, until there was only Lana left.
‘Ah… the one I’ve been seeking for millennia…’
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