Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Starting Anew ❯ The House of Horrors, Part 1 ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: VenusIsKnownForFlyTraps 
Yeah, Part 2 will be out within a week.
Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Fantasy / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 03.04.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 676 | Status: Completed
Yeah, Part 2 will be out within a week.
Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Fantasy / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 03.04.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 676 | Status: Completed
Starting Anew
VenusIsKnownForFlyTraps
2: The House of Horrors; Part 1
Disclaimer: Don't own.
A/N: Well, you all wanted more of this story. I can't really think of anything that would possess you to want more, but if you say so... Oh, and just so you know there are bound to be lots of mistakes, 'cause my computer is being stupid and Word is "locked," so I had to do this on Notepad. I'd like to thank my viewers and my ipod for this chapter. Without my viewers, I'd still be sitting on my butt watching tv, and without my ipod I would have been incredibally lonely while writing this, and would have had no insperation.
--
How long had it been? Two, three hours maybe? I looked at the car radio clock. 5:47. Great. That was, like, five hours. Must have dozed off..
I turned to my dad. He looked tired. But, then again, who wouldn't look tired after driving five hours in the car?
"Are we there yet?" I asked, slightly starlted at the roughness of my voice.
"Almost, just a few more minutes," he replied, not taking his eyes off the road.
I sighed, putting my forehead on the cool glass of the side window. I opened my eyes, and saw a pretty nice neighborhood, actually. A little creepy, though, as all the houses looked the same. The grass was nice and green, and even though the sun was just starting to down it was warm, and the heat wasn't even on. We drove around the development for about ten minutes, then pulled into 2344 Old Willow Drive.
"We're here," my dad said enthusiastically.
I sighed, getting out of the car and going to the back of the car to get my stuff out of the trunk. The rest of the stuff would be coming tomorrow, my mom would be bringing it.
My mom is an abolitionist against discrimination towards women. She's really nice, though, once you get to know her. Her hair is dark, a mix between dark purple and black. Her eys matched nicely with her hair, a nice, dark purple. She usually wore a coat, even in the summer, but she just didn't like being exposed. She wore orange camoflage pants and a black shirt under the coat, which she usually left open to let the heat out. Her name is Anko.
Getting my stuff I walked up to the front door and took my key to open (my dad had given it to me before we left). Walking in, I sighed again. It was so... old.
The floors were old and wooden, and fading, as well. It also looked as though they would give way, and when I walked it creaked. The walls were pealing slightly, their ugly flowered designs coming off the walls. It was dark, which made it eery, made even eerier by the discustingly dirty windows. I'd have to clean up later.
At our old house we lived in a small neighborhood, where there was always somebody sitting outside or selling lemonade or talking or gossiping with the neighbors. My old neighborhood was very friendly. This one wasn't. All the same, ugly houses with manicured grass that looked like it would die as soon as you stepped on it. There was nobody outside, and it was dead quiet, except for the squeaking of the floor boards, which sounded so loud the whole neighborhood could probably hear it.
I gently put my bag down on the stairs, which looked antique. The whole place was probably antique.
I heard something, what was it? (I'd been having trouble hearing because of this kid that broke my ear drum at my old school.) It sounded like it was coming from the top of the stairs...
So what do I do?
I go up the stairs, duhh.
It was a creaking sound, and I wasn't the one making it, I knew. I looked left and right upon getting to the top. Nothing. It was probably just a draft.
So what do I do?
I go back down stairs, duhh.
By this time I heard my dad slam the trunk door of the car down. He came in a moment later, holding another bag and a pillow. As soon as he saw the inside his eyes lit up. "How wonderful! This is better than they said it would be! Isn't this great, Lee?"
"Yeah," I said distractedly, "just dandy." What the frick was that sound? "Do you hear something?" I said suddenly.
He listened for a moment. "No, nothing. Lee, are you feeling OK?"
"What? Oh, I'm fine." OK, now I know I heard something. My hearing might not be the best, but..
My thoughts were interupted by my dad's voice. "Do you want to see your room?"
"Sure."
And so he lead me up the haunted stairs and to the left. There were two doors there, both old looking. He lead me into the one on the very end, with a fancy knob. He took hold of the fancy knob and turned it, it making a squeaking noise in the process, but I seemed to be the only one to notice.
Oh my.
It looked like somebody died in my new room. Someone probably did, but I'm just paranoid, I guess.
On the far side there was a window, a large, large window. To the left was a full sized mirror and a door, probably to a closet or something. To the right there was an old looking matress on what I guess would be a bed. There was also a small nightstand next to the bed, and beside that was another door, this one smaller than the one on the left, and it also looked older, like it should have caved in long ago, but was now hanging just so it wouldn't take away from the gloom. But this didn't grab my attention. What did grab my attention was that window.
It was weird. It was probably bigger tahn the mirror, and it was sectionized, where the pane came threw the window and made bars and squares. It was dirty and dusty just like everything else, but there was soemthing about it. Something that made me want to go near it, drawing me in. But my feet didn't move. They were firmly planted to the ground, it feeling like there was something or someone holding my feet down and stopping the impulse to my brain to move them.
The window... It... My heart told me to go to it, to open it, to jump down to the green grass. But my brain told me to run down the stairs, get in the car, and drive away. This could not be my room.
"What do you think of it?" my dad asked enthusiastically. "Nice, huh?"
I forced an exuberant grin. "Yeah! Is this really my room? It's way too nice!" Yeah, nice for the dead.
He smiled big. "I'm glad you like it!"
"Umm, where'd you get this house from?" I asked converstionally.
"I came with the job," he answered and then walked out to find his own room. "Settle in, your mother will bring the rest of the stuff tomorrow," he called over his shoulder.
"OK," I said, but my feet didn't move. I just stood there, looking at that window, then to the mirror, then to the big door, then the bed, the nightstand, and finally the small door. Whatever had a grip on me let go, and my feet took me to the window agianst my will. OK, so maybe I did want to just see the view, but I wasn't going to listen to my heart and jump.
The window was more amazing than I thought. There were designs in the pane, of birds and vines. I tried to cleam the glass with my sleave, but it barely worked. I could see, however, that the view I got was of the rest of the development. All at once al the lights in the neighborhood turned off. I looked at my watch. 6:15.
This was gunna be a looong night.
VenusIsKnownForFlyTraps
2: The House of Horrors; Part 1
Disclaimer: Don't own.
A/N: Well, you all wanted more of this story. I can't really think of anything that would possess you to want more, but if you say so... Oh, and just so you know there are bound to be lots of mistakes, 'cause my computer is being stupid and Word is "locked," so I had to do this on Notepad. I'd like to thank my viewers and my ipod for this chapter. Without my viewers, I'd still be sitting on my butt watching tv, and without my ipod I would have been incredibally lonely while writing this, and would have had no insperation.
--
How long had it been? Two, three hours maybe? I looked at the car radio clock. 5:47. Great. That was, like, five hours. Must have dozed off..
I turned to my dad. He looked tired. But, then again, who wouldn't look tired after driving five hours in the car?
"Are we there yet?" I asked, slightly starlted at the roughness of my voice.
"Almost, just a few more minutes," he replied, not taking his eyes off the road.
I sighed, putting my forehead on the cool glass of the side window. I opened my eyes, and saw a pretty nice neighborhood, actually. A little creepy, though, as all the houses looked the same. The grass was nice and green, and even though the sun was just starting to down it was warm, and the heat wasn't even on. We drove around the development for about ten minutes, then pulled into 2344 Old Willow Drive.
"We're here," my dad said enthusiastically.
I sighed, getting out of the car and going to the back of the car to get my stuff out of the trunk. The rest of the stuff would be coming tomorrow, my mom would be bringing it.
My mom is an abolitionist against discrimination towards women. She's really nice, though, once you get to know her. Her hair is dark, a mix between dark purple and black. Her eys matched nicely with her hair, a nice, dark purple. She usually wore a coat, even in the summer, but she just didn't like being exposed. She wore orange camoflage pants and a black shirt under the coat, which she usually left open to let the heat out. Her name is Anko.
Getting my stuff I walked up to the front door and took my key to open (my dad had given it to me before we left). Walking in, I sighed again. It was so... old.
The floors were old and wooden, and fading, as well. It also looked as though they would give way, and when I walked it creaked. The walls were pealing slightly, their ugly flowered designs coming off the walls. It was dark, which made it eery, made even eerier by the discustingly dirty windows. I'd have to clean up later.
At our old house we lived in a small neighborhood, where there was always somebody sitting outside or selling lemonade or talking or gossiping with the neighbors. My old neighborhood was very friendly. This one wasn't. All the same, ugly houses with manicured grass that looked like it would die as soon as you stepped on it. There was nobody outside, and it was dead quiet, except for the squeaking of the floor boards, which sounded so loud the whole neighborhood could probably hear it.
I gently put my bag down on the stairs, which looked antique. The whole place was probably antique.
I heard something, what was it? (I'd been having trouble hearing because of this kid that broke my ear drum at my old school.) It sounded like it was coming from the top of the stairs...
So what do I do?
I go up the stairs, duhh.
It was a creaking sound, and I wasn't the one making it, I knew. I looked left and right upon getting to the top. Nothing. It was probably just a draft.
So what do I do?
I go back down stairs, duhh.
By this time I heard my dad slam the trunk door of the car down. He came in a moment later, holding another bag and a pillow. As soon as he saw the inside his eyes lit up. "How wonderful! This is better than they said it would be! Isn't this great, Lee?"
"Yeah," I said distractedly, "just dandy." What the frick was that sound? "Do you hear something?" I said suddenly.
He listened for a moment. "No, nothing. Lee, are you feeling OK?"
"What? Oh, I'm fine." OK, now I know I heard something. My hearing might not be the best, but..
My thoughts were interupted by my dad's voice. "Do you want to see your room?"
"Sure."
And so he lead me up the haunted stairs and to the left. There were two doors there, both old looking. He lead me into the one on the very end, with a fancy knob. He took hold of the fancy knob and turned it, it making a squeaking noise in the process, but I seemed to be the only one to notice.
Oh my.
It looked like somebody died in my new room. Someone probably did, but I'm just paranoid, I guess.
On the far side there was a window, a large, large window. To the left was a full sized mirror and a door, probably to a closet or something. To the right there was an old looking matress on what I guess would be a bed. There was also a small nightstand next to the bed, and beside that was another door, this one smaller than the one on the left, and it also looked older, like it should have caved in long ago, but was now hanging just so it wouldn't take away from the gloom. But this didn't grab my attention. What did grab my attention was that window.
It was weird. It was probably bigger tahn the mirror, and it was sectionized, where the pane came threw the window and made bars and squares. It was dirty and dusty just like everything else, but there was soemthing about it. Something that made me want to go near it, drawing me in. But my feet didn't move. They were firmly planted to the ground, it feeling like there was something or someone holding my feet down and stopping the impulse to my brain to move them.
The window... It... My heart told me to go to it, to open it, to jump down to the green grass. But my brain told me to run down the stairs, get in the car, and drive away. This could not be my room.
"What do you think of it?" my dad asked enthusiastically. "Nice, huh?"
I forced an exuberant grin. "Yeah! Is this really my room? It's way too nice!" Yeah, nice for the dead.
He smiled big. "I'm glad you like it!"
"Umm, where'd you get this house from?" I asked converstionally.
"I came with the job," he answered and then walked out to find his own room. "Settle in, your mother will bring the rest of the stuff tomorrow," he called over his shoulder.
"OK," I said, but my feet didn't move. I just stood there, looking at that window, then to the mirror, then to the big door, then the bed, the nightstand, and finally the small door. Whatever had a grip on me let go, and my feet took me to the window agianst my will. OK, so maybe I did want to just see the view, but I wasn't going to listen to my heart and jump.
The window was more amazing than I thought. There were designs in the pane, of birds and vines. I tried to cleam the glass with my sleave, but it barely worked. I could see, however, that the view I got was of the rest of the development. All at once al the lights in the neighborhood turned off. I looked at my watch. 6:15.
This was gunna be a looong night.