As part of a recent NYC Midnight rhyming challenge, from an original 3500 people around the world, I was one of the grateful 700 people who got through to round two.
I was part of the group given the task to create a rhyming story within 4 days, with a maximum of 500 words. The criteria were a genre of 'horror', theme of 'bribery', and emotion of 'petrified'.
This was an incredible experience, with the added pressure and excitement of a deadline. It did make me wonder though, what is the scariest story or movie you've ever seen?
Here was my entry about a group of teenagers who coax each other to enter The Chapel House, knowing that it has a frightening reputation, yet not realising that it has deathly consequences.
The Chapel House
The Chapel House lay derelict at the bottom of a lane,
Notoriously known locally as deadly dean’s domain.
The building was crumbling, and the grounds were overgrown.
A location many avoided, and never went alone.
In daylight it was enchanting, and the parish children jeered,
each other to visit in the dark, but no one volunteered.
“I’ll do anything you want all month if you go through that door tonight.”
One teen blackmailed another, but it didn’t feel quite right.
“No way!” came the resounding reply, “I’ll go if you come too.”
After a deep breath and a swallow, “Fine! I’m far braver than you.”
When evening came the friends gathered at the front gate of the house,
“Come on scaredy, you go first.” As they tiptoed quietly as a mouse.
Their faces put on a valiant show, though inside they were terror-stricken.
Their feet like lead, palms sweating, and their heartbeats began to quicken.
As the two friends approached the door, the others at the gate
noticed candles begin to flicker on, and shadows dance around a grate.
They yelled to their friends to turn back now - this was completely mindless.
But it was too late, the dean had cast his spell, and the friends were now blindless.
“You go first, I’ll keep you safe.” As they reached the front door handle.
Shaking, and not knowing, they would soon be the dean’s next scandal.
The door creaked open and there before them was a worn- and run-down shack,
With floorboards broken, wallpaper peeling, yet somehow, they couldn’t turn back.
Something pulled them deep inside, like a moth drawn to a flame.
Shaking the two stuck together, this was no longer an engaging game.
They entered the lounge and without warning, the fire burst into life,
The heat was intense, the friends realised that their lives were in dire strife.
Turning to run, the door slammed closed, and a voice echoed through the walls,
“Welcome to my home young sirs, you are now under my powerful thrall.”
Aghast and frozen to the spot, the friends huddled in each other’s arms.
Trembling, they asked, “What do you want from us?” their minds racing on how to disarm
This voice from the wall, an unseen phantom, “Come and show yourself,” they cried.
A tornado engulfed them, flames grew wilder, the curtains cracked and there descried,
a frightening sight of a mutated man, “Now you see why I must hide.”
Appalled, unable to move; toward them, the apparition began to glide.
“We’ll leave you alone if you set us free,” “No one will trouble you again.”
“Ha-ha, you don’t understand dear sirs, I prayed for fresh blood, Amen.”
Terror-struck, rope appeared and bound the two friends tightly together,
“And now you will join me for all eternity in the nether.”
The screams from within the house were never heard at the front gate,
Though the two brave souls who entered that night, never returned, and had met their fate.
(Fiona Lowry)
(Image with grateful thanks to Greg Panagiotoglou on Unsplash)
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