Here is a thriller in the making, just seeking an audience who can come up with some interesting way to twist the plot...so if you have any suggestions then please comment below! Also, if you would like to spot any grammatical errors or just general problems with what I have submitted below, feel free to do that too!
"It slammed shut. The door of the manor had shut behind me.
I was locked in.
The dusty manor was dark and gloomy, undisturbed except the abundance of spiders webs. They spanned the hallway like Christmas decorations. However it was the wrong time of season of course, summer was in full bloom.
So why was it so bitterly cold in here? The thin cardigan I wore didn't keep the long gnarling fingers of ice out. I shivered as I heard something.
What was that?
The sound emanated from a room further down the corridor, luring me closer. I sought after the sound, constantly brushing cobwebs from my path. Finally after all the cobweb clearing, I'd reached the door.
I reached for the knob, but the door opened by itself. Suprised I followed inside, the sound had stopped before I could identify it. As soon, as I entered the door slammed shut, a heavy wooden door that shook the room and dislodged half a century of dust. I immediately groped for the door, but it was steadfast, like an imaginary hand was on the other side stopping the knob from moving. I turned around in despair, my back to the door as I slithered down to rest against it.
I was stuck in this room, just like I was stuck in this stupid manor. I clearly wasn't going anywhere for awhile so I decided to take a look around the room. There were no windows, the light surged from the roaring fire. It looked as though this was a drawing room, for there was a desk,covered in dust, with books and sheaf's of paper and an inkwell. Surprisingly the inkwell looked almost untouched by the dust and the cobwebs and it still contained ink inside. Lay next to it was a quill, maybe elegant in its previous years but no where near so now, dilapidated like the rest of this place.
Still with plenty of time to waste, time I didn't really know how to keep track of, I began reading some of the sheaf's of paper sprawled about the room.
I realised I was one of many.
These sheaf's of paper were diaries, notes of people, and just like I had been trapped in here, so had they. I gathered up all the paper and began organising them into those who wrote them and the order in which they did so.
They were all very grim. They started optimistically but ended in doom and near insanity. One person even wrote a suicide note, but had stopped halfway through. Why had it been stopped? Maybe there was another being in this place, who controlled the doors in a way that trapped them...but why would you trap some randomer off the street for? I dreaded to find out. I read some more before I found something rather interesting, all of the writers of the notes had stopped writing by the end of three days...so I guessed that I had three days to lounge around in this room, till what? Till some Monster comes and gets me? Maybe I'll just be let free? I became increasingly worried about what might happen, survival to me looked slimmer by the minute. I couldn't keep track of time in here, nothing changed in the room to keep a count of it. This room was like a purgatory, its like I'm just waiting here before I reach my final destination, good or bad. When I thought of that, I realised that maybe being trapped in this room would be highly rewarded? It could just be a lesson I was destined to be taught by. Whatever was to happen, I was about to find out."