The Vampire at the End of the Street

Prt. 4

The girls stood in front of the glaring manor. D'Andra held her flashlight in front of her and made her way to the stone steps with her red haired friend behind her holding a metal baseball bat. D'Andra glanced backward at the red haired warrior behind her. She stifled a snort at the sight of her friend. Rosalie wore black and charcoal face paint and dressed in dark colors. The girl had her red hair up in a tight pony tail and a dark grey bandana wrapped around her forehead. She also wore two thick black and charcoal lines under her dark green eyes. The face paint is courtesy of Brenda Ranch's forgetfulness at last weeks Pep assembly. Rosalie wore: a large dark grey long sleeved sweat shirt with West Chesterfield High mascot on the front, black cargo pants that housed many strange objects inside the many pockets, and two black combat string up boots. D'Andra believed her friend's get up was a little too much. Maybe it was a bad idea to make the girl go back inside, she thought to herself. Even though the look of determination was mostly in her friend's green eyes there was an underlining icy fear underneath all the determination. Shaking her head she grasped the rusting door knob in her light mocha colored hand and slowly began to tun it. The rubbing of her soft skin against the rust made her sking slightly irratated.

The door was hard to push and it took both girls to push it open. When it did move a loud eerie squeak sounded throughout the front parller. The sound made a chill go down the spines of both girls. D'Andra let Rosalie enter first, seeing as she knows the manor better than her. Inside the house looked like it belonged in a five star shit your pants horror movie. D'Andra walked along the beams since the remaining pieces of wood that is meant to be the floor is rotten beyond repair. Slowly she moved along the beams behind Rosalie.

D'Andra was starting to get freaked out, everything in her was saying runaway and never come back. She stopped short when she heard a small creak. Then something big and black ran over her Nikey covered foot. She let out a loud scream and she flew backwards into the near by wall. A soft crunching noise was heard only seconds after her busty body hit the rotting faded wall. Rosalie turned just to see her friend being grabbed by the wall. Rosalie reached out to grab her, but she wasn't fast enough. Another scream echoed throughout the house.

D'Andra felt like crying. Dust, rotten wood, and grime coated her entirely. Rosalie popped her head into the human size whole and saw a slightly pissed off and teary eyed dirty D'Andra. Rosalie slipped her pale hand into the hole, and fought back a hiss of disgust as the gross slim of the rotten left over insaltion. At her face Rosalie didn't say what she was thinking. After pulling her friend out of the wall she wiped her hands on the exterior of her pants. The two continued on toward the demonic looking stair case.

Rosalie turned to D'Andra and spoke gently, "Ok, we have to go up one at a time. These stairs are falling to ruin and I don't think they'll hold us together. I'll go up first then you. Be careful D'Andra."

D'Andra nodded, "I aint gonna be as careless as before."

Rosalie nodded and placed her right combact boot covered foot on the first step and started to decend upward. Just as she did the night before she went up the stairs cautiously. Her green eyes no longer watching only the floor but everything around her. The monster could appear out of nowhere and finish her off. After she made it to the top she turned around and motioned toward her best friend. D'Andra nodded and slowly accended up the stairs. Out of everything in the house the stairs were by far the most dangerous, at least in looks. The rails made them untouchable, the sharp murderous rails smirked like long jagged fangs ready to eat a person up. The deep red rust could have been mistaken for blood of past victims. Shaking off her fears and unease she kept on climbing. When she finally reached the top she felt a sense of accomplishment. It was like she beat death.

Once both teens were up on the top floor Rosalie lead her friend toward the cursed iron door. When she stopped in front of it she was flabbergasted. The door had been off its hinges and bent and twisted. Now it looked like it hadn't been touched. D'Andra raised an eyebrow at her red haired friend. This didn't match up to her story.