Okay thinking of composição literária a new story heres a little bit.

The winding, overgrown path lies before me. I'd always been good with horror filmes but this was too much. Stupid car breaking down in a place like this. Why did this house have to be the first one I came to. My first step triggered something. As my foot landed on the hard gravel with a soft thud, it all started. Suddenly the wind picked up and turned into a blowing gale, throwint the leaves into a swirl around me. My vision became blurred making the mossy ground before me disappear. The trees, hung low at an akward angle as if held there por an invisible rope, were creaking around me, my eyes watering painfully. I had two options, turn back or carry on. I took the crazy one. With one mais step it all cleared.
I was halfway up por now. I didn't know it but soon my life would become a horror movie of it's own. Everything quickened. A jaw droppingly high scream turned slowly into the howling wind. Painfully high in my ears. The tombstone beside me creaked like the footfall on a loose floorboard. It carried on. With every waking moment it got louder, with it came an odd dust surrounding me up to my knees, making my legs disappear. There was another scream. It took me a while to figure out it was my own. I carried on towards the house, this time much quicker. Why was I doing this?
Walking up the old. rickety steps, myseriously crooked like a mural picture in a deserted house. Now that I was close I could see that the whole house was crooked. I was scared that one mais blow of the wind and it would topple over. I was even mais scared now, that I was this close, to be able to see the house looming out of the darkness at me. This type of feeling didn't have a name. It was unusual. There was a package on the dorrstep. This package was too clean, too new for this place. It waqs out of place, made me feel that way too. Out of place like a needle in a haystack. There had been life here. Poor Tom the old village postman had had to get all the way up here to deliver the package. If he could do it so could I. I felt a sudden burst of confidence.
This newly found confidence didn't last very long. The only thing that stood between me and going início was the old, bedraggled door in front of me. I raised my hand to knock on the door but as I did so, it creaked slowly open. The scream built up in my throat. For a dividido, dividir second, I was sure there was a light on, until suddenly it flicked off. This all happened quickly, but not quick enough for me not to see the grotesque face glaring with blank staring eyes from the gloom. The eyes were the only thing I could see ion the darkness, like two headlights in the nght. As the wind blew the door, it banged into the mural behind it. Light spilled into the room, illuminating Tom, laying ghostly white on the pannelled floor. I ran quickly. As I ran, the path beneath my feet turned suddenly slippery and winding, as if a giant snake had just errupted from the door. I couldn't breathe. The end was coming, nobody got out of this place alive.
"Bella?"
I screamed.



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