THE ATTIC ROOM

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Leaving home was the best thing that ever happened to me. After the death of my parents, I was sent to live with my Uncle, Uncle Maxwell. I didn't leave because I never cared or because my Uncle was mean to me, never, he was the sweetest person I ever met. I left because his house was haunted. Every night there was terrifying for me. I just couldn't sleep even after taking sleeping pills, it won't work. So I decided to leave home, leave Oak Hills, leave that haunted house, and never come back. But everything changed. My promise was broken.

It was 3 am when I got a call from a Lawyer, Mr. Clinton, Uncle Max's lawyer. He called to inform me that my Uncle died and he passed his inheritance to me as his only relative. I was shocked by that, but also angry at my late Uncle. He never told me the state of his health each time I called him. Now, I'm all alone in this world, no family members, no loved ones. So that day I made arrangements to go back home and pay my last respects to my late Uncle.

At the funeral, I met people who had known my Late Uncle Max, as they spoke well of him, telling me how much sacrifice he made for the growth of the community, Oak Hills. I was grieving but tried to listen to them. They couldn't understand the great pain I was nursing in my, being alone in this cruel world.

After the funeral was over, Mr. Clinton walked up to me, as he showed me the list of properties my Late Uncle had, which he willed to me, so I signed the documents. Then he drove me to one of Uncle Maxwell's houses, and that was the house I vowed never to return there. From afar, I felt a cold breeze that sent a shiver to my spine. To me, it was a bad sign. I stepped out of the car, then took a look at the house as memories of all I had, memories of sleepless nights started coming together.

"Dean… " Mr. Clinton called out my name, as I was in a trance.

"Ye… yes… Sorry about that. Are you with the keys?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm. Shall we go in?"

"Oh, yes." I smiled.

Then we walked into the house, the sight of my Uncle's collections amazed me. There I saw the painting of Monalisa by Leonardo da Vinci, the armor of Camelot Knights, and much more. After I signed the ownership documents, Mr. Clinton handed over the keys and left.

So I decided to take a look around the house, hoping to see anything that will interest me because I plan on selling the house. As I walked down the hallway looking at the paintings hanging on the wall. It drew my attention, its uniqueness and simplicity were incredible. Uncle Max indeed was an Art lover. I thought to myself. Suddenly, I heard a noise down the hallway. I halted, hoping the sound wouldn't repeat itself. But it did. I quickly ran to the living room and picked a torchlight and my Glock, as I walked towards the direction of the sound.

The sound was coming from the basement. Uncle Max Artic room. His Artic room was filled with a weird collection of ancient arts and objects. The thought of those objects made me had a deep swallow of my saliva.

I held the door handle, as my hands were shaking in a shivery manner, slowly opened the door wide, and walked down the stairs with my torchlight as I frantically moved the torchlight at any slight movement or sound.

Suddenly, there was a wild commotion at the end of the room. The noise was loud and pale. I slowly walked through it with my Glock 19 in my hand and torchlight pointing into the dark, while I stared through the dark. I stared into the dark for more than a minute when I felt a draught, someone touched me. I swung around to see what was that. I was certain I saw something. I took my Glock 19 and shouted. "Show yourself now! Else I shoot… " I repeated the same statement, but my voice suddenly echoed.

I was petrified, my torchlight was feeble, not strong enough to light up the room, I could hear my heartbeat as I couldn't catch my breath. Then I said, "Last Warning, come out now! Or else…"

"Else what?" A masculine voice replied to me. I was terrified now, as I turned around in search of where the voice came from, then I felt a touch. I quickly turned. And it was a Face.

The face was ashen, with long hair, dark eyes, bleeding blood from its eyes, and scars on its face as it was sweating blood. Then it said to me,

"Hello, Dean…" in a feminine voice, then it let out a creepy smile. Without hesitation, I ran out of the room, leaving my torchlight there. My heart couldn't take what I just saw. So I ran out of the house and drove out of there. Promising myself never to come back.

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