Samantha was a teenager who wasn’t going to be afraid. She was about 16 years old, along with one of her cousins and a friend who were about the same age. The girl lived in front of a house that was said to be haunted. Being the daring teens she and her friend were, they walked into the haunted house, dragging along Sam’s cousin. They struggled to open the door because it was heavier than they thought, but when they got it open they put a cinderblock in front of it to keep it open and to let light inside.
When they got inside the house they looked up; instead of seeing a roof with nothing but ceiling fans, they saw various sets of knives hanging from the ceiling. They were low enough for each of them to reach, but not low enough to reach their heads. They walked in a bit further, only to see a rocking chair moving. It rocked back and forth, back and forth, but the house was to be empty, abandoned, but also haunted. Although the three teens had forgotten about that last one. Slowly, two of the teens started to back out, go back to where they came in from. Except, Sam decided to keep walking forward towards the chair.
When she reached it, she put a hand out to stop it, but it kept rocking. She tried stopping it with both hands, but even that was futile. Sam looks towards the door and saw her two companions were close to it. She decided that she would leave with them but the next time she came into this house it’d be when she was people who are braver and won’t leave her. As she started walking, a set of chills ran down her back giving her goosebumps on her skin and rising the hair on the back of her neck. She didn’t dare look back for fear of seeing something horrible and traumatizing because it was in that moment she remembered the house was haunted.
It was when they reached the door did she dare a glance back to the rocking chair. It had stopped moving, but there were clinking sounds instead the creaking from the chair. Sam, her friend and her cousin all looked up to find the knives moving and clinking against each other. Some had even seemed to be closer to them than when they first walked inside. Then, one fell. Like it had been cut from the string it was connected to; when it embedded itself into the floor it was right in front of Sam’s friend Finn. He jumped back running into Sam causing her to trip and fall on her back. While she was looking up, she was paralyzed with fear, because she saw more knives, it was like they were multiplying by the minute; more and more knives seemed to be materializing right before their eyes. Sam’s cousin, Emily, screamed in pain for one had fallen and cut her on the arm.
Sam shot up from ground, all fear forgotten because there was adrenaline now going through her. Her family had been hurt and she didn’t care that they were in a haunted house, she just wanted to get her cousin out and have her arm stop bleeding.
She ran to her cousin, the knives falling faster than before. They were even cutting her skin, but all she could think about was her cousin because even she was getting more cuts. Emily was crawling towards the open door where Finn was cowering, scared of the house, the knives, and the blood. Sam had already reached Emily and was shielding her with her own body, earning her more cuts and scraps from the knives.
“Emily! Emily! Are you okay?” Sam asks frantically.
“I’m okay. Just some cuts and scrapes.” Emily assured.
Sam looks at Finn and basically growls, “Why didn’t you help her?”
Sam cut him off, “You were what?! Cowering, being a wuss?! What!”
Sam was more concerned about getting her cousin patched up at the moment rather than her friends’ feelings. While Sam helped her cousin out of the house, Finn ran outside and sat on the dead grass, pulling his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth in fear. Sam had already helped Emily out the door when something grabbed her foot.
She turned and saw a hand wrapped around her ankle. The hand was gray, like it was devoid of all life. It was also wrinkly, like it had been submerged in water for a long period of time. The fingers themselves were long. They looked so weak, but they had a strong grip on Sam’s ankle. They didn’t want to let go, it was like whatever it was had wanted to keep her there and never let her leave.
Sam screamed not in fear, but in pain. Whatever the hand was, whomever it belonged to, burned her. A searing pain shot through her as it burned her ankle. Frantically, she scanned the patio deck for something to hit the hand with. Her gaze landed on a broken stick, the end of it sharp enough to still stab with. The only problem was that it was closer to a fear-rocking Finn rather than herself.
He looked up.
“Finn! Throw me that stick!”
Finn kept just rocking. So instead Emily, who was all cut up and still bleeding, was the one to get the stick to Sam. She was limping, bleeding and terrified but she still had enough courage to help her family. Emily threw the stick as close to Sam as she could, but it didn’t get close enough.
Sam was being dragged back into the house by the creatures’ hand, the rest of it’s body was still left to the imagination. She was being pulled inside, and when she crossed the threshold and into the house, the cinderblock holding the door open flew forward along with the door slamming shut.
Sam started screaming again, from pain, fear or even both, Finn and Emily didn’t know. Then, it all became silent. The only sound was the rustling of the leaves beneath Finn as he still continued to rock, but with tears now staining the grass. The door began to creak open slowly. Emily terrified to look away, scared it’d be the horrid creature coming out for another victim. Finn had even stopped rocking, scared to move and also waiting to see what came out of the door.
The door opened more, and a shape took form in the darkness. There was a glint of silver and a dropping of liquid. The person or creature or whatever was in the doorway had killed their opponent and was walking out, now victorious.
The figure stepped out onto the patio. It was Sam. She had a knife in her hand and there was black liquid dripping from it. She killed the creature. She used the knives on the floor of the house and killed it. She was alive; bleeding, bruised and beat-up, but alive.
With a cocky grin she said, “What? Didn’t think I’d make it?”