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My mind decided to throw my schoolwork out of the window as I waited for our end-of-day Art lesson with Miss Power – my favourite teacher. I valued what I learnt from her more than all the other knowledge I had added together. I jumped out of my skin in excitement as Miss Power walked in to our classroom. That day we learnt about drawing haunted houses, and I absolutely loved it. Darkness, shadows, spooky things… those were my specialty. Sadly, the day had ended all too soon, the siren cutting through my flight in fantasy.
It turned out that my friends, Sophia, Jacob and Emma, could not accompany my journey home. Sophia addicted to the stage and all the glory it promised had bequeathed her to the next dance lesson. Jacob went to extra soccer training. He was always at soccer training, though to my mind I could never figure out why. He was hopeless. Emma went to a religious festival. Her parents were strict Catholics. Strict. I would not be seeing her until next Tuesday.
I didn’t particularly mind. I always wanted to take a new route home and explore the area. Therefore, I waved them goodbye and set off.
I walked down Vince Street, as usual, but the desire for adventure tingled in my legs. This was probably the only chance I would get to explore. Besides, whom was it going to hurt? I knew pretty much the whole area from the trash bins to the town houses. Before I knew it, I chose a road I had never set foot on before – Arthur Avenue. I loved adventures, and I missed that feeling for so long. Ever since the beginning of the semester, I had committed to accompanying Sophia, Jacob and Emma on their journey home, and lain deep footprints on every inch of our streets. I had no idea how their feet could meet the same pathway everyday without dying of boredom.
“When I get back to school on Monday, I’m telling them I’m walking by myself. They’ve got to understand,” I carved the thought into my head as I walked on.
The acrid smoke rose in the air as I skipped down Arthur Avenue. Something about the road had triggered my desire to roam further and further. The rhythmic pulse of a clock had gradually drummed its way into my conscious and suddenly I was aware of time. I realised I had drifted for a lot longer than my usual 15-minute walk. I casually raised my wrist to spy my watch, but there was none. Perhaps I had forgotten to strap it on this morning. I sped up my walking into a trot as I realised the fact that, my mother would be home at five-thirty. She would be worried sick if I did not get back by then. I would get plenty of time to figure out the whole series of bizarre events then.
As much as I wished to keep walking down this mysterious road, I was aware that my mother could pull up in her Volkswagen any second to find the house empty. Of this fact, the ticking kept reminding me. There had been many twists and turns in Arthur Avenue, so I decided to confront my phone for directions. I was not going to take any chances. I swung my bag forward and screamed. Everything was tumbling out as my bag was torn. I cried in fear.
It took me a while to pull myself back together to find my phone. I kicked myself at my puerile behaviour. What one earth had gotten me so bothered? Obviously, everything was explainable. Wow, the spooky art lesson certainly had me on my toes!
I secured the phone in my palm. It had been turned off for sure. I knew this instantly as the green light, which usually spoke of its alert state, had been replaced with black. That was when it spoke.
“This is your local GPS. To get to default Home, 6 Bridger Road, go forward on Arthur Avenue,” said the voice.
“That’s right; I have certainly walked too far.” I murmured to myself as I turned around, half relieved.
“Take a U turn on Arthur Avenue,” the voice snapped.
"Strange, but I have to trust the GPS - it is the only thing I have. Do not worry; it will get me back home..." I tried to comfort myself, but something was definitely not right. The voice did not sound like the usual, professional GPS woman’s voice; in fact, I might have heard some sneering in the voice…
"I must be worrying too much, now speed up and hope mum's not back before I get home," I whispered to myself as I dragged myself down the road. "
Now that I was sure the ticking was not my watch, my mind had somehow transformed the sound into traces of footsteps. They were certainly not mine and there was no one in sight. The smoke was strengthening up to a level where I was blinded and choking. My legs were begging for my bed and its soft mattress; and I could have sworn I was heading further and further away from home. A thought of being followed drifted into my mind, which added to my worries from the peculiar events. Well, my GPS just could not seem to allow me to think alone.
“In 50 metres, turn left onto Haunrror Close,” it said, loud and clear.
“Haunrror Close? It can’t be a road near Bridger Street. But I swear it rings the bell,” I thought to myself, “I think Miss Power had mentioned it to us in a recent art lesson…” Once again, I had forced myself to stop worrying wildly and trotted on…
“Ava! Ava!” the voice had snapped me back to my senses. It was definitely my mother’s voice. She sounded fearful but that didn’t disturb me – I was so relieved!
“All I have to do now is to go home with my excuses as to why I am late. Of course I won’t tell her about this scary trip home…” I trailed off as a harp started to play. Harp music. The phrase rang in my head three times. My parents absolutely dreaded harps and they were never appreciative of spooky music. I kicked myself for suspecting too much – how was spooky music strange when Halloween was just around the corner?
I had convinced myself to calm down as I skipped down the road. An irrefutably familiar house stood about 100 yards ahead of me, but I felt reluctant to go any closer. It didn’t feel like home but I could bet on my eyeballs that I had set them on this place not long ago; in fact, it felt like I had been to this place about three hours ago. Parts of me were debating about whether I should confront the door or not. Feeling uneasy, I started to spin around on the spot…
Before I knew it, I was in a dark, mysterious place. I was sure no one could have pushed in into the house that was a good 100 yards ahead of me, but I did have slight memories of a pull from behind and falling through a trapdoor – I was certainly oblivious to it. Now that I thought about it, I could swear on my life that I had felt claws... Claws. The word had struck me three times. Claws. I started to sweat and shiver at the very thought.
The claws couldn’t have been those toy claws in the stores, though they were quite popular in October. In fact, they had felt like tiger claws. Something was definitely out of place and fear was starting to eat me away. Well, if it had been a joke, I was going to kill my mother. I decided to shout for my mother before my mind made up wilder decisions.
"Mum! Turn the lights on already! Halloween is next week!" I shouted, hoping for a light-hearted, laughing reply from my mother. There was not a voice. All I could hear was the spooky harp music that had gotten louder. I decided to close my eyes and try using my music teacher, Mr Condoleezza's way of working out the message that had carried through music. There was no point in keeping my eyes open since it was pitch-black, and there was nothing to do anyway. Might as well as give it a go, though I had never tried it. I closed my eyes.
The spooky music had not carried an obvious message, but concentrating on the music had provoked the fear in me. Mr Condoleezza had shown us a lot of spooky music in our music lessons, and I had never felt afraid. Therefore, the sound of the music had not triggered the fear in me… It was more of what my instincts told me every second the music played.
Every instinct urged me to cry; every instinct told me to scream; every instinct willed my legs to run; every instinct made my heart pound faster than ever... I tried to calm myself down, but everything I did proved in vain. The word “dead” kept on haunting my mind and I could not help but open my eyes at the mysterious fear…
The next thing I knew was that I was no longer in a pitch-black space. I was in a room lit with candlelight. It did take my eyes a while to adjust to the dim light but it was bright enough for a horrifying scene to carve into my mind, shattering my childhood dreams. On the wall, a motto was written in green, bold, dripping letters:
“We are the living dead,
We love seeing things in deep red.
Humans shall be one of us,
They say ‘no’ but we say ‘yes’”
Without a second thought, I sprinted for the nearest exit. It lead to a room with six identical doors. I sat down and thought about the set up of that house. There was not enough time. Claws were in my face when I picked myself up and dashed for an exit. That exit, however, did not lead to a place of more pleasure. Slime were dripping from the ceiling and into my eyes, preventing me from a clear view.
Half-blinded, I ran into many walls. I prayed every step I took, that I did not run into a death-threatening creature. I kept rubbing my eyes in attempt to remove the slime, but everything I did proved in vain. After a long while, I managed to gain back my sense of sight, but I was no longer in the same room.
The room was pitching black. The harp music grew stronger than ever, haunting my innocent heart. I heard the mysterious “clock” ticking once again, but this time I was sure about them being footsteps. I lain on the floor in hope it would make it more difficult for zombies to locate me, but claws pierced through my skin before I knew it.
Bright light flashed into my face all of a sudden.
Hundreds of zombies surrounded me with their claws out.
What’s more, one of the zombies was wearing a familiar costume, and it gave out an unmistakable croak.
“Ava! Ava!”
I could not believe it. I would not believe it. I wanted to forget everything I just saw but there was no avoiding the truth. Everything had finally made sense. The acrid smoke; the mysterious “clock” ticking; the sneering GPS speaker; my mother’s fearful voice; spooky harp music carrying the word ‘dead’; claws that dragged me into a pitch-black space…
All my suspicions had been true, but it was far too late to turn back… far too late to learn. Zombies circled around and advanced towards me. I could feel blood streaming out of my claw-pierced skin. Flesh was being separated from my bones. At that moment, I realized what the message that lain within the music:
“The innocent were slaughtered,
So many years ago,
In the House of Haunted,
Slew by an evil foe.
Their skin began to frizzle,
Their brains began to fry,
The innocent were slaughtered,
Without knowing why.
You were a chosen victim,
From the day you were born,
Zombies had decided your fate,
When they blew the deadly horn.”
All honest opinions are welcome, whether they be positive or negative. Suggestions on ways to improve the prose will be greatly appreciated. Please do not hesitate to post heavy critiques. Thank you for reading and I look forward to your replies!
