I was walking down the street when I came to an old abandoned villa. It was called Sunvilla, although it was far from sunny. It appeared to be haunted. In May, there is a creepy cold environment. In any case, it can’t clarify it. It was said to be possessed, and it certainly appeared to be.
I’d seen a lot of scary movies, and it was acting as a form of retaliation. I gathered my courage and managed to enter the mansion. When I opened the front door, it was filthy. It hurt to take deep breaths.
I took a look around the room and noticed that it was decorated royally. The materials were costly and handcrafted with zeal. I was astonished, but my astonishment was short-lived as my eye slid to the ground.
There were skeletons throughout the place. Following this vision, I felt compelled to complete the task as quickly as possible.
“Anyone around?” I yelled.
When I didn’t get a reply, I went up the stairwell.
The gloomy room was reached through a flight of stairs. I banged on the door, which opened on its own. I attempted to walk through the door but was interrupted by a yell. I was startled, slipped, and collided with somebody. I dashed out of the room and down to the yard, slipping on the stairwell but standing up to see a spirit. His appearance was red eyes, a skeleton body, and ragged clothes. The scenario was rather frightening. It was like something out of a horror movie.
I began reciting a mantra, saying, “If thee persists as it is said, then pray my he behold, I wish a day in place of the night.” Allow my plea to stimulate some interest. I, thy child, ring the compassion bell. Allow Devil to return to Hell.”
I’m not a preacher, and I managed to learn it from a film. He confirmed my suspicions about the magic by lifting his axe and making me feel like a lame goat. I jumped to my feet and dashed for the doorway. It locked on its own, and my terror converted me to rock.
He approached me and exclaimed, “Ha!ha!ha!”
He lifted his axe once more, and a rock flew toward him, heading for his skull. He knelt, and I saw a guy standing on the stairway through moist eyes and blurred eyesight. “Come on, dude, come here!” he exclaimed. I dashed towards the stairway, and there stood my mate, John. His face was flushed, and his eyes were cast downward.
“Hey, what happened, you’re embarrassed,” I questioned.
I had no response, however, after a minute, he grabbed my arm and said, “Bro! There was no delivery; this was all a joke; we had no idea this home was genuinely cursed.”
I had the feeling that someone was approaching, and I knew that we were confronting a demon.
We dashed to the second story. I went up to the third level while John hid in a container. The spirit pursued me to the third floor, when John, who was hiding in a container, sensed something strange. He stepped out of the container and held his hands up, directing me to come to a complete halt right there. He pursued the spirit, catching him by the arm and dragging him away. The spirit had fallen to the ground.
“I had no idea spirits had feet,” John shouted, gesturing to the feet of the ghost.
We both burst out laughing. I went down and grabbed the ghost’s axe. When he saw me with his axe, he dashed down the stairs. I was enraged. I’m in the mood to murder. As I moved closer to the ghost, John came to a halt and warned, “If you commit a serious crime, you will be imprisoned.” We’re going to call the cops. “Let them deal with him.”
“Is killing a ghost an offence?” I started yelling, half-smile on my face. I had no idea. If you want to attract somebody, fetch tarpapers and inform them, “We have a skeletal structure with a fresh soul here.”
My mood was frightening, frightening enough just to frighten John. The scene was theatrical. A man on the verge of death and a cruel criminal thirsty for his blood and flesh. When the clock stopped at eight, the Satan may evoke my godly, deception, delusion, and deepest dream; get him to produce the most demonic shriek”, I came down considerably with my axe (currently mine ) and recited the hymn.
I came down, which marked the end of my grand entrance and the beginning of my dramatic escape. With my axe, I pounced on him. Skeleton began to shudder and shake.
I stroked over and over again, but it was in vain. I was preparing to deliver a lethal blow when he slumped down. He relocated, but his disguised persona was forgotten. The mask was broken, and there was no one behind it. The person I saw last night at Ms Parker’s mansion’s entryway before the scheduled event.
Last night, we encountered a robbery there. A valuable artwork was stolen. Ms Parker noticed a thin, balding shadow. When we were touring around the manor, it lingered in the hallway for about 5.6 inches. What was odd was that all of the caretakers were on vacation.
“Anyway, John, we found Mr Parker’s tiny bald shadow,” I said in a Sherlock Holmes-like tone.
“Wait, what? “How?” John questioned.
“Yeah sure, brother, I noticed him staying by Ms Parker’s entrance, and his reflection appears to be the same,” I stated confidently.
“Anyway, the cops will be around shortly. John smiled as he remarked, “The elderly woman would be delighted to get her artwork restored.”
I approached Shadowy figure as he hopped up and went towards the doorway, hoping to murder him. He slammed, banged, and pried open the front door. His attempts were in vain. I shouted at him, “Just pause there imbecile and I’ll grant you an easy death; otherwise, I won’t even liberate your soul.” I dashed to murder him when the door burst open, hurling the two of us into opposite corners of the room.
“I’m not sure who contacted me. I’ve arrived. “Where is the criminal?” police officers yelled.
John responded, “Sir, me.”
“You better catch this disgusting brat or I’ll put him to death,” I said fiercely, pointing at the ghostly person.
“My buddy thinks he’s a painter thief as well. He noticed him lurking by our next-door neighbour’s entrance, and she noticed a figure that looked like his. John remarked.
“Well, judgement must be delivered, and he will be,” police officers stated. “Pardon me, I did not intend to kill you,” the ghost guy screamed, breaking down in sobs. I’m not a murderer. “I am a righteous thief.”
“You’re just a crook!” What exactly do you mean when you say “just a robber”?! “You nearly gave me a cardiac arrest!” I yelled angrily.
“Could you tell me who you are? What exactly are you doing? And why did you frighten us?” John questioned her inquisitively.
“I am a crook,” he responded, his voice shackling and trembling.
I conceal here after stealing artworks. This site is said to be possessed by everyone. I’d be destitute if you disproved their beliefs.”
“Detain him and look for the artwork,” the officer said.
The cops looked for the artwork and discovered it in the cellar.
“Is there any artwork of Ms Parker?” the officer asked as he started showing us the artwork.
“Yeah, of course, sir,” I said, gesturing at the artwork.
“This precise one”
The thief was apprehended by cops and taken away.
“Ooh! “They left this strange artwork,” John remarked.
“What a strange artwork! “Demonstrate me,” I demanded.
“A pretty woman in a crimson robe clutching an axe. It was created in 1964, according to John.
I remarked, “Mrs Parker never mentioned me axes were in style.”
“Hey there! Have you looked at the top floor? Wasn’t it you who was there?” John squealed with delight.
Nearly, except the single room.
“It was shut,” I stated.
I glance out the window of an unknown room, and what I see still horrifies me. A young woman in a crimson robe wields an axe. Surprisingly, she and the thief’s axe looked just like they did in the artwork.
” ghost on the last floor,” I said, my voice quivering.
“Stop whining, there is no ghost,” John responded.
I persisted, “And There he is.”
“Brother, I’d like to express my heartfelt condolences “After seeing what you did in the mansion, there is only one ghost I truly understand, and that ghost is you,” John remarked.
We got on the bus as it screeched to a halt.