A trip to Gran’s : Scary Stories – Short Horror Story

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I went to Gran’s. She lives at the very edge of the countryside on a hill surrounded by layers of trees. I can barely call the building a villa, maybe it’s more of a manor. All year long, rarely anyone other than me and my family ever come. This time however, I came alone. When I arrived, I tapped on the wooden door.

The door swung open, however no one was there. I frowned while asking with a clear voice, “Gran?” No one answered. I waited for a little longer before deciding to enter the manor.

Gran’s manor is fairly old; it was passed down from the early 1900s. Most, if not all of the furniture within are still antique and not replaced. But Gran lived alone. There was occasionally a need to change furniture. I wandered around the manor.

When I finally reached the basement, a lone mannequin, dust and some boxes were present. As I searched among the boxes, I thought, “I should tell Gran about this mannequin.”Without a sign, the fabric on the mannequin started tearing apart. It revealed a blank, bumpy surface. I edged nearer to touch it, and I was certain that felt like skin. I immediately backed away, out of the basement, and found myself looking at two photographs.

The first picture showed young Gran and the rest of her family in a family photograph manner. The second showed the exact manner, but instead of Gran’s family members, mannequins were all around. The only human I recognised was Gran.

I focused closer on the photographs and soon spotted a figure. It was half transparent, pale but still visible. Then, I saw myself. As I widened my eyes and exhaled, the thin piece of translucent glass on the pictures caught mist.

I didn’t know what happened to Gran, I didn’t know what the second photograph depicted, but one thing was beyond doubt. Something was behind me.

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