Prologue: The Devondale House

270 Words
I live in a small town where houses are pretty and elegant. Amongst these beautiful houses is our very own big shadowy place. The property has thick trees and tall overgrown grass surrounding it but if you look hard enough, you can see a massive rundown house complete with broken windows and chipped pillars. My mother who's the Mayor of our small town hates the house. She says it destroys the town's image. However much my mother and the towns people complain about it, they can't do much. Apparently the owners of the property have owned that land for years and years. No one knows where the owners are and most certainly no one has ever seen them. They say the owners migrated to a foreign country and died out. Regardless, from what my mom could gather, the mysterious house still pays it's dues to the town. For many years now I've passed this house and have tried to take a peak of it. Everyone who's anyone in our town knows of it and has made a point to never come near it. Unfortunately for me, the house is along my street. I get a chance to see the house every morning and every night when I take a jog. Call it curiosity but the mysterious house just screams for my attention. Nothing really changes. No lights. Not even a hand print on it's dusty black gate. I don't really get to look at it for too long. Something about the house makes you want to look away after it grabs your attention. Sometimes I'm afraid something would look back.
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