The House In the Moor

On a tour across the Scottish highland moor, one summer noon I stopped by a grand Victorian house. Curious, I entered silently through the half-closed door, in the semi-dark room a pile of antiques I could only see . In the creepy silence before I could say “anybody in”, the creaking wooden door closed sharply behind me. Alarmed to the core, I pressed the panic button within, for with the door closed the way out I couldn’t find. As I shivered with the eerie feeling of being trapped, saw a faint figure approach through the hazy hallway, as if floating in thin air he came in the sinister room, I saw his scalded face before he turned it away. As he came near I wailed petrified, “please open the door”, he didn’t move nor did he utter a single word, but how he softly opened the heavy door I didn’t know. I rushed out in a breath outside in the sunlight flood. In nearby village I queried about the man of that house, nobody saw hint of life in the haunted house of the dead, for in the outhouse the fire that took a long time to dowse, the lone caretaker was burnt to death some two years back. October 13, 2021 Contest : Ghost Lace Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke