The twelfth stroke
The moonlight struggled to shine through the old fabric, lightly sprinkled with spider webs and dust.
The old clock had just struck the twelfth stroke, midnight.
My heart was pounding, racing like mad.
I reasoned with myself that if I was going to be trapped in here for the night I might as well explore.
I placed my feet one in front of the other as they echoed loudly.
Each small noise I heard, each bat, each bird each twig that wrapped on the mansion made me jump out of my skin.
As scared as I was I knew I had to keep going, there had to be a way out somewhere.
As I followed the long dark corridor I could have sworn I heard voices. My mind was playing tricks on me; it had to be, so I continued walking, and with each step another illusion of the voices.
I reached the end of the corridor and I came to a dead end. A large purple curtain, I sighed wondering if I was ever going to get out of this night mare.
I laid my hands against the curtain; I needed some time to think.
And then I felt a large bump, like a doorknob on the other side.
I gasped, finally! Maybe I would be able to get out of this.
I threw the curtain back and thrust the now visible door open.
My freedom was not there, but alas another almost empty room.
I stepped inside, hoping for a sofa or a bed that I could rest on, and to be utter amazement and joy there was a sofa, bed and a table with a glass of water on it.
I had no time to question why this cold water was here, I was so thirsty and I guzzled it down.
I felt a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, a feeling I have never felt before, and then it happened so fast.
I dropped to the ground, and the last thing I could remember in my human body was the sound of shattering glass and a ghostly figure screaming with happiness and disappearing behind the wall, to freedom.
I felt myself being lifted from my earthly body and into a paranormal body.
It all happened so quickly, but now I must stay here for eternity or at least until I can trap another helpless victimů