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The House in the Woods (standard:horror, 2016 words)
Author: Nathaniel MIllerAdded: Jun 13 2015Views/Reads: 847/625Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Contest piece for The sinister use of lights to lure the foolish into the woods. (Based on picture given) and a story to be written using that picture.

The House in the Woods By Nathaniel Miller 

It is on an autumn evening that Steven Johnson stands on their porch in
the back of their house. It sits on three acres that he had purchased 
not long ago in rural Tennessee. It was their home for his wife 
Shirley, and his three spectacular kids: Bobby, age thirteen, Peter, 
age ten, and their sister Fanny, age seven. 

The property that the house sits on, a modest four bedrooms, three baths
contemporary home, is mostly wooded. There is a clear area where the 
house sits, with an eerie barn on the far corner, a wind mill next to 
it and a shack that sits across from it. Across from their property, on 
the narrow road that snakes through the forest like a python, are the 
only neighbors near to them in this community. Any other neighbors they 
had otherwise are over two miles away through the eerie forest that 
surrounds them. 

They had been working for the last three days to get moved in after the
moving truck had dropped their stuff at the house. They had stopped for 
a break, watching as the sunset began to turn the sky red over the 
woods that surrounded their home. As he moved to the inner electric 
switch, his hand shook as he flipped it to the on position. 

When he stepped back onto the patio, the flood lights brightening the
area around him and his family, and it is here that he noticed the 
strange line of Christmas lights. They ran to the barn nearby, then to 
the shed and disappeared into the thick thicket of branches that made 
up the woods. Hanging from the line, he saw glass jars, every so many 
feet, attached to the line, making it bow slightly from the weight. It 
had been the first thing he noticed about this property. It is the 
first thing Shirley, his wife, noticed too, when stepping out the first 
time on the back porch four days ago.  Together they did not understand 
why there were lights to each building and then leading into the woods. 

"I wonder what those are used for?" He asked himself, spotting the jars,
some partially filled with condensation of water from the heat of 
summer, and the rain from the wet weather found in Tennessee. The 
lights glowed brightly, some flashing as they ran toward the barn from 
the house, to the storage shack near the barn and then disappeared into 
the eerie leafless thicket of the woods. Squinting, his eyes, he tried 
to follow the line and found that he could not. 

"I am going to follow them and see where they lead." Steve muttered with
determination and stepped off the porch. It was early yet, and the red 
sky seemed to make the woods glow. It was getting dusk, and the 
temperature was beginning to drop rapidly, a stiff, cold, wind whipping 
through the branches of the woods. 

"Where are you going honey?" Shirley, his wife asked and he glanced at
her, as he hefted his rifle onto his shoulder. 

"I am curious why there are lights running to the barn, the shed, and
then into the forest." He told her, "I was going to follow them into 
the woods and see what they lead to." 

"It is kind of creepy, come into the house and we'll figure it out in
the morning dear." Shirley told her husband, and he shook his head, 
smiling as he walked down the path toward the woods.  Turning his head, 
Steve stared across the expanse of the clearing that contained the 
barn, shed and the other buildings. Here he waved to his neighbor who 
stood at the paved road next to the family's mailbox. The neighbor 
waved back. He had begun to come over with his wife, carrying a basket 
to welcome the family into the neighborhood, but had paused, turning 
away when they saw the string of lights on. 

The neighbor across the way had said hi a few times in the few days the
family moved in. As always they stood strangely near the mailbox and 
watched in silence as we all worked to help unload the moving van. They 
did not like this home. There was scuttlebutt about something sinister 
that lived in the woods, and once inhabiting the home they were moving 
into. They claimed it was haunted. Steve laughed the first time the 
real estate agent told him the stories and only shook his head in 

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