The Haunted House

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City Colleges of Chicago, Harold Washington College *

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102

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English

Date

Oct 30, 2023

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docx

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Uploaded by ChefPuppyMaster545

Miracle Brown Eng 241 4/10/2023 Weekly Writing #9 Word Count: 986 The Irie sound of thriller, by Michael Jackson played in the distance. The leaves rustled in the night as I turned around looking for a shadow to magically appear. October was one of the spookiest months and my ultimate favorite. The clouds overshadowed the moon as darkness filled the night sky. Darkness stalked the magnificent, crimson October sky. The Haunted House Darkness stalked the magnificent, crimson October sky, ultimately shrouding all that stood courageously in its path, allowing only the ghostly shadows of the pale moon to escape its powerful possession. Tall, murky trees danced eerily, their long branches swayed perfectly in unison with the crisp, whispering, autumn winds. The faint, musty scent of the earth’s dampened

soil permeated the night’s air. Fallen fiery-red and pumpkin-orange-colored leaves artistically freckled the moist terrain of McKinley Manor. It was Halloween: the day of the dead, the birthday of evil, and the night of devilish deeds. Each year, on Halloween night, crowds of fear-starved teens happily flock to the haunted house of McKinley Manor for their yearly dose of heart-stopping fright. The owner, Paul McKinley, was a corpse of a man, with gangly limbs, pale transparent skin, and salt and peppered hair. Almost everyone in Tilden Falls believed that he was nearly as creepy as his haunted manor. Paul McKinley’s mission every Halloween was to curdle the blood of every paying teen that dared to grace the haunted grounds with his or her presence. Soon after nightfall, a sea of enthusiastic teens vigorously washed over the vast lands of McKinley Manor, their loud yelps of excitement deeply penetrated the hushed night. Each one hoped to stand face to face with terribly, ghoulish creatures that would strike spasms of terror down his or her vertebrae. Pram Stevens had always shuddered at the thought of visiting a haunted house, and that was why she had tenaciously avoided them on every Halloween. However, that Halloween night, Pram had adversely accompanied her friends to the haunted house of McKinley Manor. Pram parked her beat-up blue Honda beneath a mammoth sized old oak tree; its fragile long fingers faintly brushed the windshield of her car. Condemned by the thoughtless promise she had made her friends, Pram quickly cut the engine to her car and obediently followed their obscure

orders. With fear tightly hugging her body, Pram slowly slipped from the oasis of her car and joined her friends. The wind whipped angrily against her slender body. It pushed, it tugged, and it even assisted in the daunting task as she walked through the Manor’s graveyard. Discolored tombstones lined the ground of the cemetery, housing the prior owners of McKinley Manor. Pram slowly inhaled, for she was only minutes away from meeting the dreaded house of death. The distinct sound of Michael Jackson’s 1980’s hit “Thriller” played in the distance and grew louder as Pram neared the crowds. Groups of wide-eyed customers quilted the Manor’s landscape as they watched and waited to savor a slice of the fear pie that McKinley Manor so graciously served every Halloween night. Pram closed her eyes tightly; she could smell the terror that awaited her. Pram stood nervously and awaited her grim sentence, for she was guilty of cruelly subjecting herself to such a horrid fate. Pram’s green eyes widened with fright as she stood face to face with her unsightly enemy; the house’s colossal size engulfed her. McKinley Manor was a skeleton; it's depressing pale and fragile structure conspicuously enhanced its spookiness. Its window, the eyes to its wicked, evil soul, peered warningly down on Pram. Faint screeches of the damned escaped its mouth as the haunted house devilishly welcomed the frantic customers. Forcefully swallowing back, a scream, Pram could feel her body tighten; she was a walking corpse. Unable to move, Pram clenched the back of her friend’s jacket tightly. Now, she was at the front of the line. It was time to walk the

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