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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/RichardSaxon on 2024-11-01 15:33:39+00:00.
I stood on my front porch, staring out at the dimly lit street. An eerie silence hung in the air, accompanied by light fog and the last rays of the setting sun quickly retreating beyond the horizon. I glanced over at the neighbors’ houses, all lights were out, spider webs covered the corners, and dark banners draped across the walls. Even the rush hour traffic had vanished, not daring to interrupt the silence, nor did the children dare come out to play. After all, they would have to wait their turn.
“Come on, let’s go already,” Zander insisted, proudly donning his black robes, holding a scythe.
“We have to wait,” I demanded. “You know the rules.”
There were no laws disallowing us from wandering the streets. It was merely an unspoken suggestion that we restrain ourselves, giving families time to prepare for the festivities of Halloween. The vast majority of parents worked day jobs and would typically return home between five and six. Giving them an hour to clear the streets and prepare bowls of candy on their doorsteps seemed a reasonable demand. But at seven o’clock sharp, children, teenagers, and a few accompanying adults would rush onto the streets, ready for the annual round of trick or treat.
“Fine, five minutes, then we march,” Devon said. “But this year, as you know, we have something special in store.”
I groaned, “yes, I know. I’m sure it’ll be a perfectly embarrassing surprise.”
“Come on, don’t be so grim. We’re seventeen. This will be our last chance to celebrate Halloween the old-fashioned way before we grow old.”
“So, eighteen is old now, is it?” I snickered.
“To old for this childish crap,” Zander argued. “I want to party next year.”
“You’ve never even had a drink,” I argued.
“Well, next year once we graduate, I’ll have the chance. I know a guy who can get us fake IDs.”
“There’s no person on this planet who’d let you pass for twenty-one,” Devon chuckled.
“Whatever.”
Then the clock stuck seven, and without hesitation, the entire street came to life. Thousands of spooky lights turned on, and cheap animatronics whirred to life. Then the doors opened, and dozens of costumed children and their accompanying guardians rushed onto the streets. Within seconds, chaos had emerged, and the houses with their lights turned on were flooded with eager little monsters scavenging for candy.
“It’s go time,” Zander announced.
“Yeah, and I’m super excited about your so-called ‘challenge,’ can’t wait…” I let out as sarcastically as I could.
Zander was the most heavily costumed of our three-man group, cosplaying death. Devon had opted for a cape and fake teeth, while I only wore a white, plain mask.
We ventured onto the street, standing tall above the kids. Few people our age still celebrated Halloween, most focused on getting alcohol from their older peers and partying the night into oblivion. But it was a scene I wasn’t yet interested in partaking in, neither was Devon, which held Zander back from dropping out annual celebrations in favor of his older peers. But this year, our quest was not to scare the children, nor to hunt for candy. No, this year we were heading down the street, turning onto Marewood Lane, much to my dismay.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, already having laid eyes on our target.
A house stood at the lane’s end, ancient, abandoned, not even worth a street number. For generations, the home had been left untouched, never shown any care, but also not displaying progressive deterioration. No one could tell exactly when the house had been built, just that it already stood there when our grandparents themselves were kids. A moment frozen in time even then. Though harmless on its own, there had always been one rule, never approach it, and never knock on the door.
It was a peculiar sight. The property was large, and the foundation seemed strong enough, if nothing else the building could have been torn down to put up a new home. Or at least the property could have been used for a small park. But for reasons unknown, no one had been given permission to utilize the area. So, year after year, the house would stand there, untouched, unused, every day of the year, except for Halloween.
Because on the eve on Halloween, every year without fail, at seven o’clock, a light would turn on, dimly visible through the living room window. It wouldn’t flicker or wave as if coming from a candle, but would stay static, as if a light switch had been turned on, an impossible feat seeing as the house couldn’t possible be equipped with functioning electrical systems. Yet, there it was, and to approach it had remained strictly forbidden for generations. A rule mindlessly followed, spawning many-an urban legend.
“You can’t be serious about this,” I said.
“Oh, but we are,” Zander said. “Every year there’s a challenge, and now its your turn. Unless you want to forfeit your right as a man, that is.”
I sighed, regretting that I had once taken part in deciding challenges for both Zander and Devon in the years prior. Each of us had to partake as a rite of passage before we turned eighteen. Last year, Zander had been challenged to steal our principal’s car keys from his office, wearing a scream mask as he did, and the year before Devon had been challenged to get us obviously fake IDs in a futile attempt at purchasing alcohol, all while dressed as a clown.
“So—what exactly do you want me to do? Spend the night?” I asked.
“No, of course not,” Zander began. “We’re not that devious. We just want you to go inside and figure out where the light is.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Don’t take this challenge so lightly,” Dale joined in, exaggerating a creepy voice. “You’ll be breaking the ancient rule of Marerwood Lane. Who knows what the consequences will be?”
On its own, the task wasn’t exactly daunting, but we’d all heard the rumors of people going missing, though it had been more than two decades since the last incident, and that was a runaway teenage boy who’d taken the life of his parents and had more likely just fled the state. Though no one could confirm that the missing people had even approached the house, most of the regions missing person reports had occurred on the eve of Halloween, which had spawned the rumors.
“Probably just junkies using the house for shelter,” I argued in an attempt at making myself feel better.
“Then why are they only there on Halloween?” Dale asked.
“To mess with us?” I went on.
“You’re stalling,” Zander said.
“No, I’m going right now,” I said, yet I hesitated.
“Yes, you’re going, I can see that,” Zander laughed.
“Shut up.”
At that point, the teasing felt worse than whatever I could expect within the house. Worst case scenario, in my mind, would be that I might confront some poor homeless person just looking for a place to sleep for a night. If nothing else, I’d feel like a douchebag, which had never stopped me before.
So, I took a deep breath and stepped foot on the abandoned property, heading for the house. And no sooner had I crossed the threshold, than I could feel the atmosphere change around me. My friends were still teasing me from the sidewalk, but their voices felt so far away. The chatter and gleeful scream of children trick or treating faded from reality. The sky darkened, the air felt heavier, but I hadn’t even reached the house yet.
Before I knew it, I found myself standing on the front porch. My hand hovered over the door handle. I glanced back at my friends, who looked at me with anticipation. I then lifted my hand and knocked on the door, not sure whether or not I actually expected a response.
“Come on, just go inside!” Zander yelled from the street, his voice muffled and distant.
I knocked again and got no response. I put my ear closer to the door and heard nothing from within. My heart was racing, and I felt my chest tighten, but I remained far too stubborn to just turn back and demand another challenge. So, I twisted the handle, opening the door without resistance.
Before me stood a dark hallway with stairs leading up to a second floor. The wooden walls were rotten, with whatever paint had once occupied it turned a sickly green and dull brown. Picture frames hung on the wall, containing black and white photos that had faded almost beyond recognition.
“Hello?” I called out meekly as I took step inside. The floor beneath my feet creaked loudly enough that it certainly had to have alerted anyone that might be occupying the home, yet there was no response.
Again, I glanced back at my friends, who were wildly gesturing for me to continue inside. I obliged and moved within, peering up the stairs to see if anyone was hiding in the dark. As I reached the first step, the front door slid shut behind me, creaking briefly before banging loudly against the frame. Though a shock, I blamed on a light draft pulling through the building.
“Is there anyone there?” I asked again, ready to spurt outside if anyone replied.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “Just check the light out and leave. Don’t be stupid.”
The living room was situated to the right of the main entrance and was where the light had been turned on. It was short walk through another, narrow hallway, also separated by a closed door. I went to open it, but before I could twist the knob, I heard a faint cry coming from the top of the stairs, the unmistakable sob of an infant.
Redirecting my attention to the second floor, I wondered if I had imagined the sound, but then the baby ...
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