Haunted House
There once was a wrestler named Frank. One day he had to stay behind at the gym to clean up all the blood and sweat. When he finally got to leave, everyone else was gone and the building was dark.
Frank got into his car and drove off.
About halfway between his house and the gym his car broke down. Frank was out of gas. He picked up his phone and tried to call someone, anyone, but there was no service.
Behind him there was a large graveyard, and Frank was not going to walk through that at night. Ahead of him to the right was an old abandoned house.
That's weird, Frank thought. He had driven the road too many times to count, but he had never seen the house before.
I'm just going to sleep in my car, he thought photo himself. But he felt something pulling him out of his car, toward the old house.
I'm not going in that house, he thought frantically. But he found himself pulled by an invisible force up the porch, toward the door. He felt his hand lift, then settle on the knob of the door.
I'm not going in there! He tried to pull his hand away, but it was like he had completely lost control of it.
The door creaked open and Frank found himself in a dark hallway that seemed to go on forever. He whipped his head back around to look for the door, but it was gone. All that was left was a wall with peeling blue wallpaper.
He felt his feet moving forward again, toward the end of the hall. He passed many doors, but his feet seemed to know where they were going.
Finally he came to a stop facing the one door at the very end of the hall. His hand rose and pushed open the door.
Inside, a tall, thin, cloaked man sat at a tiny table. Surrounding him were skeletons, human skeletons.
The man looked up. A hollow emptiness filled his eyes. He grinned eerily.
He said, "So glad you could join us for dinner."
I hope you like it. The next one I post won't be ghost stories, instead it'll be blond jokes. No offense.
Please vote and comment! Luv ya!
-Pickles
