THE TRAPPED HOUSE

THE TRAPPED HOUSE { Maisie Hardwood...} Twilight crept over the outskirts of London like a thief Shroundning secrets. Wilson Mansion, a quiet countryside swallowed by shadows. Here stood The Trapped House , an victorian msnsion with a story nobody dared to tell. Maisie got the lawyer's letter in her small apartment flat at Liverpool. "You've inherited a property ," it reads. The address led her to the trapped house. Rumors swirled about the place people said it swallowed lives. Maisie didn't believe it. She needed the house and money though. As she stepped into the crumbling driveway, wind howled like warnings. The house loomed stood tall doors twisted like mouths screaming to be shut. Maisie hesitated, something was waiting inside. She pushed the creaking front door. It swung open like yielding to a ghostly hand. The air smelled like decay in the ancient Victoriana house. Dusts danced in faint street light. She flicked a switch. Dim bulbs hummed, showing a hall lined with old photos of people in victorian attire. Faces in them looked frozen in screams. Maisie shivered. She found a letter on a dusty table. Which reads: Dear who enters, 'If you hear whispers at night, don't leave. The house doesn't want outsiders...' Maisie twisted her face at the word 'outsiders' stated in the letters. 'I'm not an outsider, I just inherits the house,' She thought to herself. She folded the letter tight and dropped it back on the table. She heard it then a whisper like wind through the walls. "Trapped...." Suddenly lights flickered. Shadows moved like living things. Maisie spun around and there was nothing. She thought she was hallucinating maybe because she's too tensed. Maisie moved through halls with crackling wood underfoot , passing portraits of stern faced victorians. Every room seemed locked in time, furniture draped in shadows like ghosts. She moved up the old stairs. She found a trunk with old victorian clothes and a diary on top. The diary belonged to brielle, a former occcupant. Entries spoke of the presence in the house something that watched and watched and waited. Last entry reads: " I can't leave. The walls hold me. Tonight I heard my name whispered... like a summon..." Maisie closed the diary tight. She went downstairs, downstairs a door she hasn't seen creaked open. Beyond it, a narrow stairs led down to the darkness. Like a basement in the creepy victorian house.