Ghosts Aren't Real

We had heard that the attic was haunted, but we all know that there is no such thing as ghosts.

We were determined to prove everyone wrong and ascended the spiral staircase into our attic. With each step I heard my brothers' breaths get quicker, and my cousin grabbed my shirt indicating we should go back. I stopped, turned around and smiled reassuringly that there was nothing to be afraid of. We stopped alongside an antique, gold-trimmed mirror leaning against the wall. It was standing on the floor below us, but was so tall, we were still reflected in it.

With a tremor in his voice, Roger said: 'Kayla, lets go back. It doesn't feel right'. Richie nodded his head in agreement and clung onto me tightly.

'Guys, there is nothing to be scared of. It's OUR home. Look, I'll prove it to you." Staring into the mirror and talking to no one in particular, I demanded, "If there is anything haunting this house, show us now!"

Expectations of continuing to see our reflections were immediately ceased because the mirror suddenly transformed. The reflection staring back at us was no longer our own, but that of a warrior demon creature. Think DOOM.  It's skin was pale blue, but dirty. It had no clothing, but was overcome with pure muscle.  Sitting upon it's throne, it warned us with his yellow eyes, "Do Not Proceed".

Nothing else needed to be said. All four of us started running, complete terror running through us. However, we were so scared that we couldn't think - and ran UP the stairs, rather than back down. We did not heed this demon's advice and proceeded to go into the attic. 

As we came to the top of the staircase and entered into our attic, we all came upon the realization that it was a part of Hell. We walked through a hallway of numerous torture chambers, and found ourselves in one of them. Surrounding us were a bunch of dead, naked bodies, all stitched at the neck. At the end of the room stood a man, hunched and wearing a bloodstained apron. He seemed to be smiling, but we realized his smile was stitched in place. He came toward us, grabbed one of the bodies, and dragged it onto the operating table located in the center of the room. He started sawing at it's neck and we all looked away, disgusted and frightened. When we heard the head fall to the floor, I turned my head slowly back and noticed the deformed man stitching the head back on at the neck. On the other end of the room, we noticed rows of neatly placed stitched bodies - his trophies. 

My cousin let out a cry when she saw the bodies. The deformed man looked up to see the source of the cry, and his eyes lit up when he saw Alexis. He ran over and started to mumble unintelligible words, and lifted his hand to start caressing her hair. I grabbed her hand, and ran back through the hallway, hoping my brothers were not far behind. We ran back down the staircase and promised to never talk about those events again. Agreeing to rather live in denial, than facing the facts, because we all know that there is no such thing as ghosts.