When I was a child, I lived in germany,in frankfurt on a street with a haunted house. A happy family of around had lived in the house until a night when one of the children was playing with matches. The youngest boy of the family dropped a lit match on his bed but was too scared to call out for help.
The boy was burned alive screaming in pain as his parents and two sisters died in their beds in the flames seemingly disappearing without a trace as the boy was found almost completely burnt.
One night during a sleepover, my friends and I took turns trying to scare each other with ghost stories. It was approaching midnight and, unable to scare each other, we thought it would be a cool idea to go check out what the haunted house is like in the dark.
We walked down the down the road and hopped the 8 foot gate surrounding the front years and walked up to what was left of the decayed dark red door, that still set in its stone doorframe.
The smell of smoke lingered around in the air, and a thin cloud of ash was being blown in the breeze of the open door . We walked through the living room and then through the kitchen. After a couple of seconds I head a thud coke from a bedroom. We made our way up the creaky and hole covered stairs.
As we got to the bedroom we heard the thud from there was a brick that fell out of the burnt wall. As I looked through the hole aa grey almost ash covered and burnt face peered back at me I stumbled and fell back as I yelled. Then hands reached out of the hole. As we turned to run, screams grew louder and louder almost to where We couldn’t hear our own thoughts. “MOMMY,DADDY,BREE,ASHLEY HELP ME PLEASE” they cried.
It broke through the wall on all fours crawling on broken looking limbs as we started to run, thinking that as soon as we had gotten out of the house we would be safe. But the burned and scar faced boy continued to screech and yell followed us. As we got near my home, the smell of burnt skin and char was almost choking us. As we reached my door, I glanced over my shoulder to see a hand reaching for me.
We piled through my front door, slamming it and locking it behind us and ran up the stairs to my room, slamming that door tight, too. None of us expected to sleep at all that night, but the fear had exhausted us and w had all passed out into a deep sleep.
That night I had dreamed that I was stuck in a basement underneath the haunted house and the family was there slowly burning while getting closer. They were mumbling something that I made out to be. Help us don’t let us die like this. The boy then proceeded to leap at me and dig this sharp teach into my neck.
I jumped out of my bed to my friends already up. I then proceeded to explain what happens in my dream. We were all much braver during breakfast, we talked about what happened and came to the conclusion our minds had played a trick on us. We decided to walk back to the house in the daylight.
I opened my front door and my mouth dropped in a silent scream. There, on the door, were two large round scorches high on the door, like someone had scratched it trying to break it. Lower down, there were two smaller sets of scratch marks, as if a rabid beast with sharp claws had tore at it.
Finally, near the bottom of the door was a tiny set of burn marks,as if the young little boy had tried with decaying arms to push open the door and get help for his family.
We never ended up going to that house again and I can say firmly that I will never visit that house under any circumstances. As I’m sure it would be a death sentence for me and anyone with me. I will say that night will never leave my mind and always be fresh in it.