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Description
Dawn had just crept over the horizon when they entered the house. Long beams of chill, orange light followed them through the rotted door and tapered away as they made their way inside. Dust, undisturbed for an age, was sent into the air by their intrusion, clearly visible in the rays of the chill morning sun.

Covered by the dust was a collection of eclectic taste. Headless statues of naked women stood leant against squat porcelain creatures while brooding men, women and others looked down from their portraits high on the walls. For some reason, age had left the pictures untouched, and a closer examination revealed them to be clear as the day they were painted. One of the intruders dared take a closer look than his fellows, who had brushed past the entry rooms in their search for the cellar. The lone investigator noted certain discrepancies in the dress of the portrayed. It was far too modern, at least according to how old they assumed everything in the house was. So when a portrait of a young woman met his gaze and held it, the man's bladder decided enough was enough and sent him scurrying out of the house as fast as he could. He was the only one of the expedition to later reach civilisation. Weeks later he would rush out of the forest, only to find himself in the path of a speeding vehicle.

The rest of the explorers, oblivious to their companion's panic attack, ventured deeper into the house, leaving a trail through the dust. Their electric torches cast light where the sun hadn't been seen for ages, heavy shutters were closed over every window in the building and the locks had rusted shut long ago.

They found the entry to the cellar in the kitchen, which smelled of decay and mould. Whoever had been here long ago had gone suddenly, for the table was set for a single person's meal, and there was a pot on the wooden stove holding a mysterious goo. The pantry had been full as well, and was now the main source of both the mould and the smell of decay. Apparently, there had been a leak in there sometime and the resulting mess was something quite beyond the world.

Stale darkness spilled when the cellar door was pried open. Wispy tendrils of shadow snuck out and sidled along past the light of the electric torches, only to dissipate as it met the rays of the morning sun that were boldly marching in the front door. The men moved down creaky old stone steps, not noticing that stone should not creak. Their electric torches made the darkness around them draw back, but once they were past it would slink back out and close them in. And no light came past the cellar door. The sunlight had by then made its way into the house from the front door, but the cellar door stopped it and made it turn away. Deep shadow enveloped the opening.

At the bottom of the stairs, the men stepped into something soft. Wet, squishy noises came every time they set down or lifted a foot and they praised the lord above they wore proper boots. The torchlight revealed the floor to be a dark green colour, with the occasional darkened spot. When the behind most man disappeared, no one noticed.

Eventually, they did notice and torchlight swept out, chasing back the darkness, as the men looked for their companion. No trace of him appeared, as if he had sunk into the floor. One of the men cried out the lost man's name, but the darkness seemed to grasp the cry and strangle it. The search was silent after that. When the second man disappeared a couple of his fellows caught a glimpse of, or thought they got a glimpse of, a flicker of shadow and flashing white teeth. But they didn't know, it could have been their imagination.

Afraid, now, they pressed on forward. To go back was impossible, the stairs up were gone, though they were too far in to know that. As they moved inwards the floor started to slope downwards and the smell of rot and foul puss rose up to assault their noses. Several of the remaining men had produced handguns from their pockets and were poking them at the darkness alongside their guns. But when another man disappeared the guns did not help at all.

However, shooting at the floor produced a result. In a fit of panic, one of the men fired his gun at the floor, where he thought his friend had just been. Every man there saw when the floor under him turned into something with a lot of teeth that the man fell into. Before he had time to scream the mouth had closed around him. With cries of alarm the men turned to where he had been, then looked at the floor. Before they could fire their guns, other tooth mouths formed out of the ground and attacked them. But rather than the clean swallow that had been before the mouths came up like rampant band-saws, scattering blood and worse everywhere. The attack was fast, even faster than the swallowing mouths had been and when it was over there was not a single gun wielder left. There was, in fact, only two men, both now badly shaken.

Eventually, after a long and careful walk, the floor straightened back out. Turning a corner, the two were met by a warm, orange light. If they hadn't been near senseless from fear, they might have noticed how the darkness and the orange light mingled and played around, as if old companions, but they were and they didn't. It turned out that the orange glow came from the dwelling of the old man who owned the house. What he looked like is quite uncertain. What's certain, though, is that the sight of him, and what he was doing, broke the two men. What they saw turned them from curious academics to vegetables only capable of bleeding uncontrollably from every orifice they had. The only mercy was that they bled out quickly.

Description
Dawn had just crept over the horizon when they entered the house. Long beams of chill, orange light followed them through the rotted door and tapered away as they made their way inside. Dust, undisturbed for an age, was sent into the air by their intrusion, clearly visible in the rays of the chill morning sun.

Covered by the dust was a collection of eclectic taste. Headless statues of naked women stood leant against squat porcelain creatures while brooding men, women and others looked down from their portraits high on the walls. For some reason, age had left the pictures untouched, and a closer examination revealed them to be clear as the day they were painted. One of the intruders dared take a closer look than his fellows, who had brushed past the entry rooms in their search for the cellar. The lone investigator noted certain discrepancies in the dress of the portrayed. It was far too modern, at least according to how old they assumed everything in the house was. So when a portrait of a young woman met his gaze and held it, the man's bladder decided enough was enough and sent him scurrying out of the house as fast as he could. He was the only one of the expedition to later reach civilisation. Weeks later he would rush out of the forest, only to find himself in the path of a speeding vehicle.

The rest of the explorers, oblivious to their companion's panic attack, ventured deeper into the house, leaving a trail through the dust. Their electric torches cast light where the sun hadn't been seen for ages, heavy shutters were closed over every window in the building and the locks had rusted shut long ago.

They found the entry to the cellar in the kitchen, which smelled of decay and mould. Whoever had been here long ago had gone suddenly, for the table was set for a single person's meal, and there was a pot on the wooden stove holding a mysterious goo. The pantry had been full as well, and was now the main source of both the mould and the smell of decay. Apparently, there had been a leak in there sometime and the resulting mess was something quite beyond the world.

Stale darkness spilled when the cellar door was pried open. Wispy tendrils of shadow snuck out and sidled along past the light of the electric torches, only to dissipate as it met the rays of the morning sun that were boldly marching in the front door. The men moved down creaky old stone steps, not noticing that stone should not creak. Their electric torches made the darkness around them draw back, but once they were past it would slink back out and close them in. And no light came past the cellar door. The sunlight had by then made its way into the house from the front door, but the cellar door stopped it and made it turn away. Deep shadow enveloped the opening.

At the bottom of the stairs, the men stepped into something soft. Wet, squishy noises came every time they set down or lifted a foot and they praised the lord above they wore proper boots. The torchlight revealed the floor to be a dark green colour, with the occasional darkened spot. When the behind most man disappeared, no one noticed.

Eventually, they did notice and torchlight swept out, chasing back the darkness, as the men looked for their companion. No trace of him appeared, as if he had sunk into the floor. One of the men cried out the lost man's name, but the darkness seemed to grasp the cry and strangle it. The search was silent after that. When the second man disappeared a couple of his fellows caught a glimpse of, or thought they got a glimpse of, a flicker of shadow and flashing white teeth. But they didn't know, it could have been their imagination.

Afraid, now, they pressed on forward. To go back was impossible, the stairs up were gone, though they were too far in to know that. As they moved inwards the floor started to slope downwards and the smell of rot and foul puss rose up to assault their noses. Several of the remaining men had produced handguns from their pockets and were poking them at the darkness alongside their guns. But when another man disappeared the guns did not help at all.

However, shooting at the floor produced a result. In a fit of panic, one of the men fired his gun at the floor, where he thought his friend had just been. Every man there saw when the floor under him turned into something with a lot of teeth that the man fell into. Before he had time to scream the mouth had closed around him. With cries of alarm the men turned to where he had been, then looked at the floor. Before they could fire their guns, other tooth mouths formed out of the ground and attacked them. But rather than the clean swallow that had been before the mouths came up like rampant band-saws, scattering blood and worse everywhere. The attack was fast, even faster than the swallowing mouths had been and when it was over there was not a single gun wielder left. There was, in fact, only two men, both now badly shaken.

Eventually, after a long and careful walk, the floor straightened back out. Turning a corner, the two were met by a warm, orange light. If they hadn't been near senseless from fear, they might have noticed how the darkness and the orange light mingled and played around, as if old companions, but they were and they didn't. It turned out that the orange glow came from the dwelling of the old man who owned the house. What he looked like is quite uncertain. What's certain, though, is that the sight of him, and what he was doing, broke the two men. What they saw turned them from curious academics to vegetables only capable of bleeding uncontrollably from every orifice they had. The only mercy was that they bled out quickly.