31 Nightmares: The 22nd

Today I’ll be featuring Part II, the final installment to our guest, Mo Chocolate’s horror story, 10K.

You can read the first installment and a little about Mo in one of our previous *nightmares* this month:

31 Nightmares: 18th 

10K (Part II)

by: Mo Chocolate
Featured first on CardCastlesInTheSky.com

“So, you going, or what?”

My so-called friend asked. I could see the reflection of his face on my passenger side window. I could see it in his eyes. He was just waiting—waiting for me to give up. He knows I don’t want to do this, He knows I want to go home. That’s not going to happen. I looked right back at him and said,

“Yes, I’m going. Don’t rush me. I just need a run though really quick on our deal so I know we’re on the same page.”

“One night…” He says, holding up his index finger. “You have to go inside, find a place to handcuff yourself to, and stay there all night. I will drive back here first thing in the morning. I’ll have the key to unlock the handcuffs. If you can make it through one night here, you will get the money for proving me wrong about the urban legend. —But if you chicken out— you pay me the money and you have to admit I was right, is that clear?”


I said it trying to sound confident, but failed miserably.

I opened the door and stepped out to get a better look at the house. Now, it was in full display right in front of me. Even though there were no street lights, and barely any moonlight, I could still make out the house. There was a stoop leading to the porch with two windows surprisingly still intact. The front door looked like it was about to fall off its hinges and there wasn’t a knob. A sign hung just below it that I could not make out from where I was standing. Directly above was the second floor of the house. There were two windows that were in a poorer condition than the first level window. I could see it was cracked in a few spots, probably from some local teenagers throwing rocks at it.  At the very top was the attic window, which was completely gone. I was definitely not going up there knowing how cold it would be.

My friend then drives the car in reverse backs up enough to drive straight to the exit. He rolls the passenger side window down and leans over to look me in the eye. He says

“When you do chicken out, use this.”

He tosses me what looks like a flip-phone. I open it and it looked like one of those pay-as-you-go phones with a really long antenna.

“It only has enough minutes for one call—so when you chicken out, which I know you will, call me and I’ll come pick you up. Good night princess, check under the bed and in the closet for monsters.”

Then he sped off. I could see that stupid smile on his face again. I could see him waving goodbye to me on his rear-view mirror while the dust filled the air as he drove away.

I turn to look back at the house and that’s when I felt it. I’m vulnerable now. I’m the only living thing here now. It’s quiet. I could hear the leaves rustling though the grass around me. I could hear my friend’s car driving down the hill faintly. I could feel my heartbeat go up a bit. I’m scared.

You don’t realize how frightening an abandoned house is until you are looking at it alone, at night. I inhale, then exhale slowly and close my eyes.

“I am not in danger” I whisper to myself,  “I will be ok. It’s just an empty house. Nothing is inside that will harm me…nothing.”

The sound of the front door slamming made me jump. The wind was causing the door to open a little then shut again. It was almost as if the house itself was welcoming me, wanting me to enter. It made me feel uneasy.

I put the flip phone in my pocket. I could feel the handcuffs in that pocket. I put the phone on my side pocket and walked straight toward the house.

As I ascended the steps slowly, I looked inside through the windows. There was nothing. All I saw was pitch-black darkness. I was hoping there would some amount of moonlight inside to help me navigate.

Somehow, I made it to the front door. The sign on it read:


Why?  As far as I know, nobody owns this house. Nobody wants to buy it. So what’s with the warning sign?
I reach for the door and pushed it open. It made loud, squeaky noises, echoing around the house. When the door fully opened, the inside was surprisingly not that dark. From this angle, I could see the windows on the other side of the house with large beams of moonlight coming though them.

It was enough for me to make out the long hallway right in front of me. The area lead to what looked like the kitchen. On the left side, I could see a set of stairs leading to the upstairs rooms overlooking the bottom hallway. On the right, all I saw was darkness.

I had no idea what was on this side. There were no windows on that side of the house. Hopefully, my eyes will adjust enough to see. With one step I walk inside, slowly closing the door behind me. The air from closing sent a wave of dust around my direction.

“Jesus, how old is this place?” I had to brush my arm in front of my face. There were dust particles everywhere. With one single moonbeam above me, I could see nothing but dust. This will not make things easy for me.

I find a piece of wood next to me and prop it against the door. I don’t need the door jump-scaring me like that again. I look back at the hallway start to make my way down it. Every step I took, echoing. It felt like the floor was going to collapse on me. It felt so old.

I make it into the kitchen. I see the sink from where I’m standing.  There was an abundant amount of cobwebs everywhere I looked. Not just the corners, but around every single table, and what remained of the chairs, which were scattered all over the place, almost like someone felt like throwing them around.

I made my way around the kitchen, trying to find a place to crash. The kitchen was the best source of light, and I wanted to say close to it. I walked into what appeared to be the living room. There was one light bulb left in the ceiling fan. It was broken; no surprise. From what I could see, thanks to the moon, there was a fireplace and couch with no cushions.

All of it covered in dust, I could even see where the TV used to be. The outline was on the wall, next to the fire place. What was perhaps the most strange, was the carpet being wet, really wet. Every step I took sounded like I was squishing a colony of bugs. Why the hell is the carpet wet?  Could it have been years of rain and snow building up or did someone recently poor a bucket of water on it? Of course, the couch was soaking wet as well. Go figure.

The living room was going to be my best option. I guess I’ll try upstairs.

I headed back down the hallway and made my way up the stairs. I stopped immediately after the first step. The stairs looked like they were about to break if I put even the slightest weight on it. The first step broke right in front of my eyes. Thankfully, I caught it due to the window above me giving me another beam of moonlight. I look up, counting the stairs leading up. There were just about nine steps. Just nine steps and I’d be at the top.

I slowly pressed my weight on the second step. Thankfully, it was able to support my weight. There was no support beam on the side of the wall. I was at the mercy of the structural strength of these stairs to hold me.

Every step I took made a loud creak. The sound of wood snapping echoed across the house. The last thing I needed was to be stuck where ever I landed if the stairs broke on me. With one last spring, I made it to the end of the stairs.

The last step was now gone. I could not see the bottom. All I saw was blackness. I had no idea how deep it was. I found a small pebble and threw it into the hole. After what seemed like almost ten seconds, I heard the pebble land on something.

Fucking A. This house must have a basement or I’m higher than I thought.

I look down the hall and there was only one beam of moonlight.  I couldn’t see much from where I was standing. Just a door that had completely fallen off its hinges and what looked to be dried-up paint all over the floor.

There was no way I could have found a place to crash over there. I need a room with plenty of moonlight. There was no way I’d be sleeping in a place that was pitch-black, hell no.

I turned around. There was one door to my left. I stopped and looked at it, baffled. It looked brand new. From what I saw, there was no dust, no signs of years decaying and the door knob was still intact; golden-plated.

Why is every door—no, why is everything in this house destroyed or gone to shit but this door? Was it luck, or coincidence, or something more? I grabbed the door knob and slowly turned it. No loud squeak this time.

I was in denial of what I was looking at when the door was fully open. A window could be seen that was facing the moon. There was one large beam of light that illuminated the entire room. I could see everything. There was not much to see, mind you, but this was the most lit room in the house. And it was all mine.

I walk in and close the door behind me. I saw the knob had a lock on it. I locked it. I was fairly certain there was nothing in this house, but the door being locked made me feel a bit safer.

The room was small enough for one person. There was nothing but moonlight displaying the millions of dust particles. Out the window I could see all the way down the hill. I saw the path me and my friend took to get up here. I could see a freeway way off in the distance. I guess I really was that high up. Below the window was a radiator. It reminded me of the one I had back in college.  I made my way to the radiator. I lie down on the floor and get my hand cuffs out. I cuff my right hand. Then, cuff the other one to the pipe of the radiator.

I take my phone out of my pocket and put it with in arms reach of me. This way it wouldn’t give me too much discomfort. I lean against the radiator. It wasn’t comfortable, but it will do. I’m sure with time my body will adjust.

As I rested there, my back on the wall, right behind the beam of moon light, I felt it again. I felt the fear; the vulnerability—like I was in jail. I couldn’t get out even if I tried. If anything was to happen that would put my life in harm’s way, I’m fucked. Then, once again, I close my eyes and inhale then exhale.

“I am safe here. The door is locked and nobody can get in. There is nothing in this house but me. There is no such thing as monsters or ghosts or anything. I am safe.”

I then rested my head on the radiator, and tried to get some sleep.

A few hours later, I awoke to the sound of a thumping. It was very dim, but I definitely heard something. It was probably just my imagination, hearing things, I tell myself.

The thumping got louder to a point where they sounded like footsteps. I raised my head off the radiator and listened. For a brief moment it was quiet. Then the thumping continued again, getting louder with each passing second. My heart started pumping. I felt the icy, cold grip of fear take a hold of me.

Was there someone else here? Where were they going? Are they trying to find me? These questions were racing though my mind, I could feel the sweat starting down my cheek and forehead as the thumping got louder, to a point where I could locate where the sound was coming from.

The hallway.

The hallway that lead to the kitchen; to the front door. By this point, these were  no-doubt footsteps.

They were looking for me. Why else would they make their way across the kitchen and then the hallway?  They knew someone was there. They knew I was there. They’re looking for me. They must have seen my footprints, which will lead them right to me.

Then I heard it, the sounds of footsteps going up the stairs, very slowly. The dust on the walls would fall with each step they took. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, I thought to myself. This is not happening. This is not happening to me. The footsteps would get louder. Whoever this person is must be heavy, but that doesn’t make any sense. If the stairs could barley handle my weight, how is this guy getting up the steps no problem?

Then it happened. The steps made their way to the front of the door. The footsteps stopped, for a moment there was a pause—a moment of silence. My chest was beating. I could feel my jugular veins pounding. I covered my mouth with my hands to quiet down my heavy breathing. The doorknob was moving. It wasn’t turning— it was moving.

It was as if whoever it was had a hard time getting a grip of the door knob.

That’s when it hit me. It must be my friend. It makes perfect sense. He wants me to chicken out. He wants me to fail so he can get the money. He is the only one who knows I’m here so he drove back and snuck into the house and must be screwing with me now. He has done something like this in the past, so it all adds up. This all calms me down big-time.


There is a loud bang on the door and it’s shaking violently now. There’s more banging on the door. The knob is shaking like crazy. He really is trying to scare me, the prick.


I had to yell louder. He was making such noises with the door. Banging on it, scratching it and anything else that would make noise. It was getting really annoying.


Then it happened.

There was a loud scream, a loud, demonic-like scream. For a brief moment the top of the door was pushed open enough for me to get a quick glimpse of who was trying to get in and it cut me off.

What I saw nearly gave me a heart attack. This look of fear formed on my face from what I saw.

There was a row of sharp teeth, pink skin, and claws. What the fuck was that? My mind could not process what I had just seen. I didn’t know what to do; what to say. My whole body was paralyzed.

I tried calling out my friend’s name, but I could not form any words. Only sounds. I was too scared to say anything; to do anything.

Any moment now the door will break and whatever that thing is, will get me. There was nothing I could do about it. The creature would continue screaming, continue banging on the door. It knows I’m in here and it wants me. Then that’s when it hit me. The phone! I can call 911 or Chris right now! I knew I was out in the middle of nowhere, but I didn’t care, I grabbed my phone and flipped it open.

The door flew off, landing on the floor with enough force to send a shockwave of dust straight at me. The loud noise startled me which caused me to drop the phone. I covered my eyes as the wave blew past me. When the dust settled, I opened my eyes.

There it was. A large creature covered in white fur. All covered except for its feet. It stood on all fours with razor sharp claws on each toe. Saliva dripped from its mouth, its wide mouth with rows of sharp teeth.

It had four eyes. Two on the front of its face, and one on each side of its head. They were solid black, like a Great White shark. It just stood there, looking right at me, standing in front of the moonlight on full display, huffing and breathing pretty hard.

I could not move. My eyes were wide. My jaw open, my back all the way against the wall. I have never seen a creature like this. I could not rationalize what I was looking at. I was in disbelief.

All that didn’t matter.  Now, I learned that the urban legend is true.

People who spend the night in this house always end up dead. Nobody ever knew why. My friend and I made a bet, and now I’m here and now, I can confirm that this legend is true—with my death.

The creature then closed its mouth and licked its lips. It had a very thin, triangular-shaped tongue. The beast let out a hiss. Some of its fur standing up on its back then let out another roar, even though I was across the room. I could still feel the warm breath on me. Then with one step after another it made its way to me. The entire time, growling and opening its mouth ready to strike me. This is it. This is the day I die.

The next morning Chris drove back to the house. He drove up and parked right out front. He turns his car off and steps out. The morning sun was shining right at his face. He takes a deep breath of the morning air and closes the car door. He looks up and down the house to see if he can find his friend but to no avail. He walks up the stoops and heads for the front door. He kicks it open.

            “LUCY I’M HOME”! Chris yells.

He walks in and looks around to see if there is any sign of his friend. It’s a good thing he came when the sun was rising because everything was visible.


“I’m up here, Chris.”

A voice yells from upstairs. Chris looks up at where the voice came from. It seemed to be one of the upstairs rooms. He arrives at the top.

“Where are you?”

“In here.”

Chris looks to the left and sees the door with the gold-plated door knob and walks to it. He opens it and see’s his friend standing in front of the window. He was just standing in the sunshine looking out. He turns from the window and greets Chris with a smile.

            “Morning, Chase.” Chris says.

“Good morning, Chris. ‘Hate to say I told you so but, I told you so.”

“Yeah man, what was it like here at night? Did you see anything crazy?

Chase chuckles.

“Nah, man.”

“No monsters? No killers?”

“Nope, just an empty house.”

Chris sighs, punches the air, then snaps his finger.

“Damn it. I was hoping the urban legend was true.”

“Well I’m sorry I’m still alive.”

Chase said crossing his arms, smiling.

“Maybe I am dead and I’m just a ghost here to haunt you for all eternity, ever think of that?”

Chris punches Chase in the shoulder.

“No, ‘cause ghosts are transparent, dumb ass.”

“I was joking,” Chase said while rubbing his shoulder. “Can we go now?  I want to go cash the winning lottery ticket you owe me.”

Chris sighs and says “Fine, let’s go.”

Chris turns around and heads for the door. It was at that instant Chase grabbed him by the shoulders and with all his strength pushed Chris to the wall next to the radiator.

Chris banged his head on the wall in the process. Chase quickly took out his handcuffs. Like lighting he cuffs Chris to the radiator. He went through his pockets. He took out his phone, the winning lottery ticket, and the key to the handcuffs, and car.

Chase then tossed the phone out the window as well as the key to the cuffs, crashing it through the window. Shards of glass fell all over the floor. Chase turns around and heads for the door.

            “DUDE! THE FUCK?”

Chris says.


Chase continues to walk to the door, Chris’s words having no effect.


Chase then gets to the door. Before he closes it, he stops and looks right at Chris, who is hyperventilating heavily and has the biggest confused look on his face.

“I’m leaving. It wants you not me Chris. Thanks for the ten thousand dollars. Good night, princess.”

Then, he closed the door.

© 2015 M. Ob  a.k.a Mo Chocolate

This has been Day 22


31 Nightmares



Dream on, dreamer

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