07-27-2004, 05:25 PM
I entered the abandoned house and walked down the dark, empty hallway. I felt the walls on either side of me, when suddenly I heard a loud voice that said, "Get out while you still can! We don't take too kindly to your type around these parts!" The voice, filled to the brim with southern drawl, sent chills racing down my spine. Wanting to run away, but unwilling, I continued walking down the hallway. Deep within the dank darkness of the house, a door creaked, the sound of shrieking wood enough to set my teeth on edge. The unmistakable sound of a shotgun firing filled the hall, and I felt the wood at my feet splinter.
From behind the creaking door, a grizzled old man stepped forth holding his trusty old shooter as he exclaimed, "That was but a warning shot, son!"
My heart catching in my throat, I turned to run, but only found that I had no escape. The old man got increasingly closer and I could smell cheap whiskey wafting through the air.
I was no longer in the hallway but had stumbled into a side room -- dark save for moonlight seeping through a shuttered window -- and I was not alone.
From behind the creaking door, a grizzled old man stepped forth holding his trusty old shooter as he exclaimed, "That was but a warning shot, son!"
My heart catching in my throat, I turned to run, but only found that I had no escape. The old man got increasingly closer and I could smell cheap whiskey wafting through the air.
I was no longer in the hallway but had stumbled into a side room -- dark save for moonlight seeping through a shuttered window -- and I was not alone.