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Description
It was a fog filled night, mist lightly dancing upon eyelashes. It was early October, which meant Halloween was just around the corner. Frank had gone out with a few of his companions to get a drink, have a smoke, and just wallow in the crisp of autumn. Something that Frank had not anticipated on, however, was the halt in their journey by the front gates of Hell: Way Manor. It was rumored that this building had been in the center of Jersey since the 1800's; there was also an exact replica in Europe. No one had ever dared to take a single step onto the property, much less in October. Some believed Master Way still lived in the mansion to this very day, waiting for some poor soul to enter his abode.
Apparently today he'll get his wish.
"Frank, just go inside! You're not a stupid teen anymore!"
"You guys have had too much to drink," he countered.
"So have you!" Ray spat back, quite literally.
Ray had been one of Frank's best friends since high school. Along with the current group members, Bob, Bert, Pete, and Alex, Ray had conveniently gotten a job at the same office as Frank; with all of their cubicles next to each other.
"It doesn't matter, I'm not going inside that place. It's too scary," Frank whined.
"Dude, you were born on fucking Halloween," Alex slurred.
"Doesn't matter."
To prove his point, Frank turned his back to the mansion, pouting to the state of looking like a five year old. As a response, the group smiled deviously at each other and simultaniously shoved Frank backwards into the rusty gates, causing them to snap open. Frank fell to the ground with a cloud of dust surrounding him. He didn't scream nor yell; he was just stunned that the gates had opened so easily. He wasn't exactly the heaviest person around. He stood up slowly, straightening his spine. He could've sworn he heard a cliché horror movie scream as he looked around the courtyard. He had seen it his entire life from the outside of the gates, but the yard itself is surrounded by a mossy brick wall; too high to climb. But as of today, he is seeing it in purity for the first time. There were plants, but they didn't seem to be alive. Seems the gardener is out of town, he thought. He took a few cautious steps towards a particular garden which had a peculiar rock sticking up from the damp ground. He took a step back immediately when he saw there was a name on it.
"There's a fucking tombstone in here!" Frank screeched.
"It's probably just a prank to scare kids off," Pete explained. He was definitely the most sober out of any in the group.
"Yeah, you're probably right... Probably."
Frank continued to examine the courtyard, now in search for more pranks. God, he loved pranks. He was so lost in his searching that he almost tripped on a tree root sticking up from the dirt.
"This entire place is a calamity," he muttered to himself.
He took another broad look across the spacious wasteland, startled to notice that he was only about three feet from the front steps of Way Manor. He looked back to his collgues, hoping for advice on what to do next. Four of them were having giggles fits, still from when Frank stumbled on the stray root. Pete, however, looked him in the eyes and nodded seriously, silently declaring that he should go inside. His logical mind was telling him to stop, go home, and go to sleep next to his beautiful wife who was waiting for him. His curious mind, on the other hand, was prodding him further and further, causing his feet to walk closer to the mysterious building, step by step. His subconcious mind wanted this a lot more than his concious one did. His fingers graced the cool wood of the magestically carved door. A slight push could easily open the masterpiece of a front door, but Frank didn't want it to fall off. He clicked the handle, hearing multiple gears turn from the inside. It seemed like an amusement park ride that had been out of service since 1953. A very loud creak was heard as the massive door scratched the old flooring and revealed a dreary grand staircase. It was dark, but it was absolutely beautiful. As if compelled by an invisible force, Frank slid his feet up to the first dusty step. It had a preserved Persian rug drifted atop of it, seeming to preserve the wood as well. He looked around, scoping to see if the mysterious owner of this building was anywhere near. Seeing nothing, he proceeded to climb the blackened staircase.
"Is uh, is anyone here?" he called up the stairs.
"God, I'm so stupid. Of course there's no one here. This place has been abandoned for years."
While Frank argued with himself, he stopped suddenly at the sight of a purple-backed, eight-legged monstrosity. His eyes widened at the sight of the creature, hanging only by a thin web. As if on cue, a luxurious sing-song voice resounded throughtout the walls of the enclosure, seeming to call out for a pet of some kind.
"Esmerelda, what on earth are you doing down here?"
Frank glanced down at the unusual spider that now seemed to be turned towards the disembodied voice.
The spider.
The spider's name was Esmerelda.
Whoever is in this house has some obvious mental or social problems. Maybe both.
Frank tried to step backwards down the stairs, but his attempt at trying to be quiet had failed. The staircase had given him away with its squealing and creaking.
"Hello? Is there someone here?" the voice inquired.
There was definitely someone in the house, and Frank didn't want to stick around to find out who it was. He turned and leaped down the remaining stairs, silence no longer required. He sprinted from the staircase to the front door, not daring to look back.
"No, wait! Come back!" the voice called, dripping with a half-Jersey, half-European accent.
Frank wasn't much of a runner, but he let his short legs do the running, taking him to the outskirts of the gates, almost screaming in his friends' faces.
"There's someone in that house, and we need to go! Like, now!" Frank pushed.
"Relax, Frank. If anything, it's just another prank; a voice recording," Pete retorted.
"Okay, Pete, you're usually right, but not this time. Voice recordings don't ask who you are and walk down the stairs or play with their fucking spider! We need to leave!"
For once, Pete had an astonished look on his face. They ran from the horrid gates to their own homes, relieved that they wouldn't have to face whoever was in that house.
"Where did you go? Honey, you look like Death!"
Frank's wife, Jamia, had been his high school sweetheart. They dated all through high school, and he had proposed to her two years after graduation. They've been married for eight years.
"I just, uh. Damn. We went to Way Manor," Frank easily confessed, rubbing his hand across his face.
"Really?" Jamia gasped, "What happened?"
Frank heaved a sigh and smiled as he explained the entire experience.
"You faced a spider and lived?"
"Yeah, I guess," Frank laughed.
She placed a ginger kiss on his still-trembling lips.
"Wow, you're so brave," she squeaked sarcastically, holding back laughter.
"Thanks," he smiled, "but I just want some sleep now."

Description
It was a fog filled night, mist lightly dancing upon eyelashes. It was early October, which meant Halloween was just around the corner. Frank had gone out with a few of his companions to get a drink, have a smoke, and just wallow in the crisp of autumn. Something that Frank had not anticipated on, however, was the halt in their journey by the front gates of Hell: Way Manor. It was rumored that this building had been in the center of Jersey since the 1800's; there was also an exact replica in Europe. No one had ever dared to take a single step onto the property, much less in October. Some believed Master Way still lived in the mansion to this very day, waiting for some poor soul to enter his abode.
Apparently today he'll get his wish.
"Frank, just go inside! You're not a stupid teen anymore!"
"You guys have had too much to drink," he countered.
"So have you!" Ray spat back, quite literally.
Ray had been one of Frank's best friends since high school. Along with the current group members, Bob, Bert, Pete, and Alex, Ray had conveniently gotten a job at the same office as Frank; with all of their cubicles next to each other.
"It doesn't matter, I'm not going inside that place. It's too scary," Frank whined.
"Dude, you were born on fucking Halloween," Alex slurred.
"Doesn't matter."
To prove his point, Frank turned his back to the mansion, pouting to the state of looking like a five year old. As a response, the group smiled deviously at each other and simultaniously shoved Frank backwards into the rusty gates, causing them to snap open. Frank fell to the ground with a cloud of dust surrounding him. He didn't scream nor yell; he was just stunned that the gates had opened so easily. He wasn't exactly the heaviest person around. He stood up slowly, straightening his spine. He could've sworn he heard a cliché horror movie scream as he looked around the courtyard. He had seen it his entire life from the outside of the gates, but the yard itself is surrounded by a mossy brick wall; too high to climb. But as of today, he is seeing it in purity for the first time. There were plants, but they didn't seem to be alive. Seems the gardener is out of town, he thought. He took a few cautious steps towards a particular garden which had a peculiar rock sticking up from the damp ground. He took a step back immediately when he saw there was a name on it.
"There's a fucking tombstone in here!" Frank screeched.
"It's probably just a prank to scare kids off," Pete explained. He was definitely the most sober out of any in the group.
"Yeah, you're probably right... Probably."
Frank continued to examine the courtyard, now in search for more pranks. God, he loved pranks. He was so lost in his searching that he almost tripped on a tree root sticking up from the dirt.
"This entire place is a calamity," he muttered to himself.
He took another broad look across the spacious wasteland, startled to notice that he was only about three feet from the front steps of Way Manor. He looked back to his collgues, hoping for advice on what to do next. Four of them were having giggles fits, still from when Frank stumbled on the stray root. Pete, however, looked him in the eyes and nodded seriously, silently declaring that he should go inside. His logical mind was telling him to stop, go home, and go to sleep next to his beautiful wife who was waiting for him. His curious mind, on the other hand, was prodding him further and further, causing his feet to walk closer to the mysterious building, step by step. His subconcious mind wanted this a lot more than his concious one did. His fingers graced the cool wood of the magestically carved door. A slight push could easily open the masterpiece of a front door, but Frank didn't want it to fall off. He clicked the handle, hearing multiple gears turn from the inside. It seemed like an amusement park ride that had been out of service since 1953. A very loud creak was heard as the massive door scratched the old flooring and revealed a dreary grand staircase. It was dark, but it was absolutely beautiful. As if compelled by an invisible force, Frank slid his feet up to the first dusty step. It had a preserved Persian rug drifted atop of it, seeming to preserve the wood as well. He looked around, scoping to see if the mysterious owner of this building was anywhere near. Seeing nothing, he proceeded to climb the blackened staircase.
"Is uh, is anyone here?" he called up the stairs.
"God, I'm so stupid. Of course there's no one here. This place has been abandoned for years."
While Frank argued with himself, he stopped suddenly at the sight of a purple-backed, eight-legged monstrosity. His eyes widened at the sight of the creature, hanging only by a thin web. As if on cue, a luxurious sing-song voice resounded throughtout the walls of the enclosure, seeming to call out for a pet of some kind.
"Esmerelda, what on earth are you doing down here?"
Frank glanced down at the unusual spider that now seemed to be turned towards the disembodied voice.
The spider.
The spider's name was Esmerelda.
Whoever is in this house has some obvious mental or social problems. Maybe both.
Frank tried to step backwards down the stairs, but his attempt at trying to be quiet had failed. The staircase had given him away with its squealing and creaking.
"Hello? Is there someone here?" the voice inquired.
There was definitely someone in the house, and Frank didn't want to stick around to find out who it was. He turned and leaped down the remaining stairs, silence no longer required. He sprinted from the staircase to the front door, not daring to look back.
"No, wait! Come back!" the voice called, dripping with a half-Jersey, half-European accent.
Frank wasn't much of a runner, but he let his short legs do the running, taking him to the outskirts of the gates, almost screaming in his friends' faces.
"There's someone in that house, and we need to go! Like, now!" Frank pushed.
"Relax, Frank. If anything, it's just another prank; a voice recording," Pete retorted.
"Okay, Pete, you're usually right, but not this time. Voice recordings don't ask who you are and walk down the stairs or play with their fucking spider! We need to leave!"
For once, Pete had an astonished look on his face. They ran from the horrid gates to their own homes, relieved that they wouldn't have to face whoever was in that house.
"Where did you go? Honey, you look like Death!"
Frank's wife, Jamia, had been his high school sweetheart. They dated all through high school, and he had proposed to her two years after graduation. They've been married for eight years.
"I just, uh. Damn. We went to Way Manor," Frank easily confessed, rubbing his hand across his face.
"Really?" Jamia gasped, "What happened?"
Frank heaved a sigh and smiled as he explained the entire experience.
"You faced a spider and lived?"
"Yeah, I guess," Frank laughed.
She placed a ginger kiss on his still-trembling lips.
"Wow, you're so brave," she squeaked sarcastically, holding back laughter.
"Thanks," he smiled, "but I just want some sleep now."