A Short Story : 'The Haunted House'

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“Look, there it is! The haunted house…” Billie and Mac simultaneously looked up at the house in front of them and shivered at the creepy sight. The entire house leaned slightly to the left, all of its windows cloudy and either cracked or broken. The what-used-to-be pearly white paint has chipped away and faded to a smoky, charred gray, its steps leading to a gravel pathway and a trashed covered, neglected lawn. Billie arched an eyebrow and looked over at Johnny with her skeptical, hazel eyes. “Are you sure this place is haunted? It just looks like an abandoned house.” It surely wouldn’t have been the first time she went to a “haunted” house on Halloween night only to find out it was just a normal, old house. Johnny put his hands on his hips and shrugged. “No one really knows for sure. Although people say that there used to be a cannibal that lived there. He would lure kids into the house, cut them up, and eat them!” Johnny exclaimed as he snuck up behind Mac and smacked both of his hands onto Mac’s shoulders, causing the boy to let out a loud, high-pitched yelp. Johnny’s two lackeys giggled as he continued the story, “But, those kids weren’t enough to satisfy his hunger. One day he began to eat himself until he died from the extreme blood loss. The rumor is that his ghost haunts this house, waiting for kids to wander in to feast upon their flesh.” Mac backed away from Johnny and the building, slightly shivering while fiddling with the bottom of his light blue polo
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