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The Old House By Joe Reddish
I was taking a shortcut from the supermarket through the woods when I heard it. I looked left. There it was again but from the right this time. Then it dawned on me that there might not be just one of them but a whole pack all around me. So I ran. I ran as fast as I could until I thought I’d lost them, but as soon as I turned around I saw ten blood red eyes staring menacingly up at me. I knew I only had one chance of survival left . Desperately I rummaged in my shopping bag for something, anything. I pulled out a random item in my bag . Lettuce. I knew it wouldn’t give me much time to run away. Mustering up all my strength and willpower I threw the ball of food as far as I could and ran.
As soon as I released the ball I knew it was a good throw. I didn’t dare look behind me to see if it had worked. I rounded a corner as fast as I could. There was another corner right ahead of me. As soon as I rounded it I knew it was a mistake. I tripped over the branch and slid five meters on my face. When I looked up I saw it.
An old house stood before me. An old house with twisted doors, broken shutters and crumbling turrets. The gargoyles at the wrenched front steps looked like they had been made by Hades himself. I was transfixed by it. I felt like destiny was whispering in my ear. I picked myself up ,dusted myself down and entered the centuries old house.
It was stuffy and cold inside. I felt like I was turning into a popsicle stick .It was as dark as death. There was a smell of rotting food carcasses in the air. It was as if someone had died in this dark, unforgiving, termite infested house. I climbed up the stairs. Creak! Creak! I felt the trembles in the wood ,and I wasn’t even that heavy! As I reached the top of the stairs I opened a door. It led out to the balcony. I peered over the railing, and then I saw them. Wolves .
They looked like they were afraid to go inside. But the one that looked like the leader raised its head, and our eyes connected for the second and final time. I didn’t see fear in them, all I saw was tyranny and hate. It was such a level of hate that even the devil couldn’t achieve. Then one step at a time the pack entered the house.
I heard their footsteps on the stairs. I was desperately hoping the stairs would break under their weight. Then I heard an almighty crack. At first I thought it was the stairs until I saw two menacing blood red eyes turn the corner. I grabbed the knife I bought at the supermarket. Quickly I lunged with it. The wolf reared back in pure terror and in that split second I slammed the door shut and jammed the knife in it. I knew it would only give me about two minutes to get away. But that’s all the time I needed. I clambered onto the railing and onto the tree next to it. I jumped as far as a frog. I felt like a bird soaring through the air. That sensation suddenly stopped as I snatched the nearest branch into my hands. Suddenly my hand slipped, and I fell to an almost certain death.
When I opened my eyes I wasn’t in the dark cold woods. I was in my very own sloppily cleaned bedroom. I realised that it must have been a dream. That thought was still in my head until I saw the shopping bag from last night on the table. But the thing that scared me the most was that the lettuce and the knife were not there.
