Marty walked down the hallway. It was nearing midnight in the spooky old haunted house. The boys in the schoolyard had bet him twenty dollars each that he wouldn’t have the guts to come here. He’d done it. Now, all he had to do was fulfill the last bit of his mission, and he could leave and claim the prize. The door at the end of the hallway bore a sign, and Marty stopped in his tracks as he read it. The lettering was written in sharp black script with strange and sinister-looking letters. “Dear Foolish Young Traveler, you have come to the wrong place at a dreadful hour. You will be joining us momentarily.” The hair stood on the back of his neck. He hadn’t heard any noise in here, but it seemed the room went suddenly quiet as he read the letters on the sign. Then, for the first time since he’d entered the house, the grandfather clock in the living room started ticking. He heard the door downstairs slam shut.
NOTE: The brief narrative above was brought to you by The Bite-Size Fiction Project, created by Dave Baldwin and Sheila Lee Brown (this particular one is a Dave-story). The results of this project are bite-size story morsels for short attention spans. These tidbits are sometimes fun, sometimes weird…but always short!