Quiet Acres

A thousand miles away, there is an attic. No one knows about the attic, for a very good reason. If you were to stand outside the building the attic is in, you’d be hard pressed to find the courage to enter the crumbling, ragged building. Outside, on a plaque that’s been torn at and faded by wind and water, is the origin of the reason no one enters. “Quiet Acres Mental Institution,” it reads. Many of the letters are gone. If you were to walk inside the creaking, boarded up door, you’d be met with darkness. A single candle lights by an unseen hand, and the wind blows the door closed behind you. At least, you hope it’s the wind. Looking around you, you see a rickety spiral staircase. A thousand cobwebs. A mirror that you think you see a flash of a face in. But you pass it off as nothing. Just a trick of the light. Or so you hope. You take the candle with you as you go up the staircase that creaks under your weight.

Up, up, up you go. You hold the candle before you as the wind howls at the windows and screams to be let in. Cold drafts threaten to extinguish the flame, but you keep going. Creak, creak, creak go the stairs. Let me in! Let me in! Cries the wind. You feel something cold and almost cloth like brush your hand. You gasp and pull away from whatever it is. Just a cobweb, you think before continuing. You hear someone calling your name. You whip your head around, looking frantically. There it is again! A voice like a breath calls your name, coming closer and closer. You scream and run the first way your feet go-forward. Your name is called again, and you can hear the insanity as it laughs. You’re getting closer and closer to the attic. A door creaks, then falls down before you. The voice calls your name again, sounding but a few paces behind you. You vault over the door and run, run through the cobwebs.

Your heart is pumping, beating so you think it’ll just burst out of your chest. you’ve reached the attic, but you don’t know that. Room 113, it reads on the ancient plaque. You open the unlocked door, and slam it behind you. “Hello,” A voice says. You whip around and scream a sound that you’ve never heard yourself make before-one of pure fear. On the ground before you is a young girl, not older than seven. She looks normal enough, but you can see the hot light of insanity in her eyes. She has a circle of candles and broken dolls around her. She laughs, a sound that chills you to the bone. “I’m crazy, if you’re wondering. Everyone says I am.” She rolls her head back and lets it loll there like a rag dolls. “You should leave. I have this urge to just wrap my hands around your neck and squeeze.” You start to back away. “Do you know why I’m the only one left here? I got lost. I got lost, and found myself here. I couldn’t unlock the door, and I starved.” She smiles sweetly. “Would you like to stay with me? We can be insane together!” You find the window behind you, and freeze as the little girl walks towards you slowly. “Or you can fall. Either way.”

Suddenly, she seems to fly towards you. Her face, as blank as a sheet over a ghost, has no eyes, no features. “Join me!” She hisses somehow. You wordlessly shake your head and take a final step backwards. The little girl laughs as you stumble and pitch backwards, as you fall down, down, down. You watch as the little girl smiles as you fall. As the candles fade into darkness. Then, you feel a terrible crunch and everything goes dark.

Next time someone enters the Quiet Acres Mental Institution, you call their name, haunt their minds, and never let them escape.

Credit To: Hannah

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