The house at the end of the street had been boarded up for as long as I, or anyone else in town could remember, but everyone knew the stories.

Asheville Manor was previously home to the Asheville family years and years and years ago. Nobody knew for sure what had happened to the Asheville family. Long ago everyone had woken up one morning, their daily routines interrupted by the discovery of the beloved Asheville family’s home boarded up, and nothing to be seen or heard of any of the Ashevilles. It was the mystery of the town, no one seems to know what happened to the family, but everyone had theories.

The Asheville manor, being one of the biggest mysteries of the town, well the only mystery of the town, was naturally of great interest to me. I would drive my father crazy asking about the Asheville family. He hated it. For some reason he would get so worked up whenever I mentioned that boarded up old house at the end of the street, as if he’d seen a ghost. Of course, many of the town seemed to think the Asheville manor was cursed, my father probably being among them.

“What we’re the Ashevilles like?” I asked at breakfast that morning. My father startled, looking over both shoulders as he dropped my breakfast plate, a bit more roughly than normal, on the table in front of me.

“Now Chase, I was just a young boy way younger than you are now when the Ashevilles boarded up their place and ditched town, how should I know a single thing about them?” He insisted, his face white as a sheet.

“Others around town seem to be saying they were such a kind and respected family. I wonder why they’d just ditch town so suddenly?” I pondered aloud to myself.

“Now I don’t want you digging around in that Asheville Manor nonsense you hear me?” My father snapped. “Now eat your breakfast.”

It was the same thing he told me whenever I brought up anything about the Ashevilles and it was getting tiring. What was his deal anyways? He couldn’t possibly believe that superstitious nonsense about it being cursed, could he? Was it cursed? There had to be some reason such a loved and respected local family suddenly ditched town leaving their house boarded up and abandoned. I think today’s the day I should do what no one in town has ever done, and go find answers myself.

So after I ate breakfast I packed up a backpack with water bottles, flashlights, snacks, salt (I didn’t really believe in any of the haunted superstitions but it was better to be on the safe side) and other necessities, then told my dad I was going to meet my friends. Then I headed up the road to that house on the end of the street. Asheville manor.

The gate squeaked when I opened it and made my way past the walkway. I pulled a hammer out of my backpack and started prying the boards of the door that were blocking my path. After nearly 20 minutes of work I was in, the door creaked as it opened. I wasn’t worried about being seen as I slipped through the door because the superstition kept mostly everyone away.

It was dark inside the abandoned house but to my surprise it wasn’t empty, demolished or trashed. There wasn’t even sheets over the elaborate furniture. No dust or dirt on the polished clean walls and floors which was extremely weird. After years of vacancy there should be dust coating the place unless….

The sound of footsteps echoed in the halls of the house. I wasn’t fully sure I wasn’t just imagining the sounds of footsteps, but curiosity one over and I followed the sound anyways. Sure enough I just barely caught a glimpse of a figure turning the corner of one of the corridors. It turns out Asheville manor wasn’t as abandoned as the town seemed to think.

“Hey wait!” I called, as I chased after a figure. As I rounded the corner I saw the figure, what looked to be a boy my age run through a door at the end of the hall. I followed. When I got to the room the boy was sitting in a rocking chair grinning.

“Hello Chase,” he grinned. “I’ve been waiting for you.”