This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/CryptidCelts on 2024-11-24 20:24:06+00:00.
So there was this house, back in my old hometown. Run down, caked in dirt, rust, and usual grime. An abandoned craftsman style house, supposedly part of an old ranch that sat just outside town. No one remembers the owners, or even the name of the ranch it belonged to. The house was always covered in a thicket of decoration lights, webbed across every surface of the place like wild vines. It never mattered what time of day it was, the lights were always on; and so bright you could see the lights grazing the horizon of the sky as if it was fighting against the air, defending its right to exist.
We were only ever able to see it. Anyone that tried to go out and find it rarely found Success in their efforts. People would talk about a dirt road pasture, with trees flanking either side and always seemed to get incredibly dark the further along you went. Others said they would get close enough to see a fence, rusted wire strewn around a rotted wooden post every few dozen feet or so from the next. Just never the house itself. Only the now dim glow of artificial lights left as any sign that there was anything there to begin with. Somedays it wasn't even there, like it just got up and decided to not be there anymore. An active participant deciding who was allowed to see it.
Despite how small our town was, there was a considerable amount of kids that would go missing every few years or so. Coincidentally, people would notice small changes to the house around the same time new notices would be posted; it was usually small stuff. A new window, an extended deck, or even new lights. They never looked new though, always the same well worn look complete with dirt and all.
There was one year in particular, a friend of mine from middle school went missing. He was a bit of an oddball; would take any bet possible, Sean was his name. I remember there being another kid I wasn't a huge fan of, Dylan; kid was damn near obsessed with giving Sean the worst bets possible knowing he would guaranteed take them on. One of the worst ones being an incident where Sean was dared to jump off the roof of our school building. We didn't Have a tall building or anything, it's was just one of those one story places that spanned across with maze like halls and a small concrete courtyard. One side of the building dipped downwards, maybe a solid 45 degrees down and into a small grass field where the football players and coaches practiced and did morning workouts. At first everyone thought he had jumped right onto the concrete and just died on the spot, turns out he landed on his back on the top of the hill in the back, rolled the rest of the way down right into the middle of a game of flag football. He came out with a concussion, and a custodian actually ended up getting fired for leaving out the ladders while the roof was under maintenence. Overall a pretty bad day.
Sean came back to school eventually. And was right back to taking on dares. Dylan didn't let up one bit after the jumping debacle. Which leads into one of the more known disappearances around town. Usually it was something like, a kid running away from home, or a teen going off to elope with an out of towner. In Sean's case, everyone saw him go into the behind school when Dylan dropped a crisp 50 in front of him. And no one ever saw him come out.
A few months after Sean went missing his body was discovered at the edge of the same treeline he was last seen entering. I remember the screams of the other kids to this day, it was like hundreds of boiling kettles going off at once; the tea leaving a rancid stench of copper and dried out leather in the air. Sean was mutilated nearly beyond recognition, no one even knew it was him until they got dental records. His body had been stretched out and flattened, his chest was made square and stiff. Ribs bent backwards and folded out straight to either side; his arms tucked to the side, with each rib bone poking subtly into what should have been his biceps. The forearms pointed down to the earth below, hands bent backwards with the fingers coiled backwards like tiny snail shells. He was in a sitting position, thighs out in front of him and bent at the knee, his feet were bent in semi-circles, the splintered bones poking out the skin. He was reduced to a fucking chair. Furniture, an accent piece of what should have been a person.
No one wanted to ever say it out loud, but we all blamed the house. Even though he shouldnt have even been looking in the direction of its usual spot in those woods. A person couldnt have done what was done to poor Sean, and its not like we could even pin a person to begin with. The investigation went cold years ago with no suspects even being named. The House was the only one anyone in town could turn to for blame.
It appeared on the hill outside school after his body was found. Looking down on us all with a knowing and guilty bright gaze, taunting us.
I havent lived there in years, havent even thought about the house until recently. Not until the damned thing started showing up outside my city. It knew I was starting to finally forget, it knew I was moving on, and others were too. So it sits there; grabbing at my attention with its horrible lights; a gateway to hell waiting to ensnare my mind again. And its working. Because im going to burn it to the ground, find it and make sure nothing but a memory of its ashes remain. It wont have me, not like it had Sean, not like it had everyone else. I refuse to feel guilty for an outcome I never expected, I wont let it let me continue to dwell on that single stupid fucking dare I made as a kid. Ill make it up to Sean one way or another.