Flash horror, 200 words
Each winter, it fell more derelict.
Each summer, the rambling garden obscured its silhouette against the lonely hillside yet further.
How I'd fantasised undertaking that particular house clearance.
Even now that I was inside, I still didn't quite believe it…
***
…"Terry?!" I called over the banister, wondering where my lacky was with the tea.
Silence answered.
"If you want something doing…" I muttered, heading down the entrance hall staircase, our recent meandering evident on its dusty ancient steps.
A single trail disappeared into a room that, I discovered, was the library.
Inside, sun glistened off the shelves' windowpanes, obliterating the titles beyond, turning the room fluid, ethereal.
Terry's footprints ended abruptly at a column pedestal, upon which lay open a thick, decrepit tome.
'That's odd!', subconscious psyche screamed.
Oh!, that I'd heeded!
The moment I thumbed the blank pages that greeted me, a maw opened between the leaves, sucking me through its malleable spine!
I recount this tale—this warning—from the void beyond the book, hoping that my words, not those blank pages, greet you, even knowing I'm—we're—lost inside forever.
