You move cautiously through the old homestead, abandoned for as long as anyone could remember. It was more than curiosity that compelled you to enter the decrepit doorway. Pride played a stupidly large part. The township had a legend about the property, a story complete with murder and curses.
So you had taken up the dare to enter the sinister house, leaving friends and comfort behind. Not all was particularly a loss, there were an assortment of fancy trinkets and photographs that passed the time. No Ghosts or apparitions of grotesque events, nothing to support the tales of horror.
But then there was something amiss with the far wall of what you assumed to be a living room. A tapestry hung over the stonework, nothing extraordinary, except that it moved. Flat against the wall and it shifted ever so slightly like gentle fingers were running over the threads.
You move without conscious thought, peering at the thing like you expected to see something tangible flicking it. Sweeping aside the heavy drape revealed a door. It was different to the others. Somehow looking untouched by age, it stood defying the night with an eerie glow.
Touching it seemed more than natural, like a necessity. An odd calm took you. The lingering thoughts of the urban legend disappeared and before another notion emerged you opened the door.
It went down deep into darkness. The stench of wet earth assailed you, along with another smell that you couldn’t put a name to. Your feet took to the steps as though they were made for you, further into the dark. Ahead you see a light, something that hadn’t caught your attention before, flickering and drawing you closer.
Then you see it. A structure built, hidden away for years undiscovered and untouched. You feel disturbingly cold like ice water dripped down your body. Firelight bled from the stone room and you pause in the archway. Inside is a child seemingly glowing with inner light. She looks so sweet, sadly perched on a single chair. Her hair gleamed with such beauty that your eyes tear.
Why was she down here?
The real question is, do you open the door?