Missed 2 lessons, Blog wasn’t working for a period.

The eerie and disturbing presence of the oozing ghastly smog giggled maliciously, seeping ever closer to me, like it was stalking me. It felt as if a lengthy and slender arm of vapor, coiled lightly around my leg chaining me down to the withered and jagged wooden floor. The harrowing winds carried clusters of crackling brown leaves, each of them impacting the sinister shack’s shell.

The soiled and grubby windows were infested with numerous colonies of daunting and hairy huntsman spiders. Large complexes of transparent silky webs flowered the area, a truly grim yet attractive display. A variety of somnolent weeping bats dangled from the ceiling, letting out a series of high pitched squeaking and squealing. The harsh dusky moonlight barely cleansed a pathway through the dull window projecting onto the bloody tools of history. Rusty blood stained the hundreds of gruesome and serrated teeth. The guide bar was coated in a history of murders and metallic scars, like a traditional war painting except it displays a ghastly and grim series of tales of the many victims it has sank it’s hundreds of acute fangs into.

Beside the death ridden saw, a rust encased sickle lay beside it. A suspected partner in crime, a murderous duo. The hellish sickle was snared to the chainsaw’s front handle, like it was presenting it’s bond with it. How they were connected in a disturbing way. An army of red termites scattered from the corroded murder tools as I reached to grace it’s dust infested surface. It caused me to hesitate and stumble backward leaving my right leg penetrating the weak floor boards beneath me. A flurry of hair-raising insects and arachnids dispersed from the black wood fissure causing me to desperately struggle to set my leg free from the crawling floor. A majority of the panicky insects scaled up my torso and dug underneath my shirt, the dreadful yet sensitive feeling of thousands of hairy legs sauntering all over my chest and back was insufferably antagonizing. I attempted to swat the areas on my chest that experienced the most discomfort however there was no use, there were too many.

Then suddenly, they all disbanded, leaving my leg still firmly constricted between the fractured floor boards. I felt muddled to why they all evacuated so quickly. Tearing the unfinished silk webs from my shirt I released my leg from the jagged gap in the floor. I couldn’t stay here, a sudden unnerving presence afflicted my mind like a lethal infection. Feeling violently agitated, I approach the bug ridden door. The handle was encased in a silk substance sourcing from the clusters of spiders pervading it. Mere inches from the handle I hesitated for I heard a paralyzing pair of thuds scaled up the staircase outside. My heartbeat ceased, undeniable dread placed before it. A sinister shadow accompanies the shallow footsteps engulfing the light from the door crack beneath. Dim heavy breathing could be felt teasing the scarred wood from the other side. The shifting feet wore torn and rugged boots that were equipped with glittering golden metal features dangling by the back. With shocking reaction, the door handle began murmuring and twisting.

I had to hide somehow but it was impossible, the hellish shack was frustratingly empty on the inside. I gazed down in hopelessness and I saw a formation of insects heading for a crevice in the wall. The gaping black fissure look only just big enough to fit me inside. Frantically forcing myself into the tight crevice while the chipped front door beside me slither opens slowly. I was secure but squirmish as the flood of insects danced and gyrated all atop the trickling surface of my skin. My heart throbbed in anguish at the morbid sound of the creaking door’s whispers caressing my earlobe gently.

Upon the doors opening, a forbidding blast of a vile and ponderous stench of blood contaminated the air, causing me to quietly gag instantly. The mysterious figure who had just entered the shack crept forward into sight. It was… a butcher, but one that does not look like he slaughter animals. A psychotic serial killer perhaps but I knew that I could not let it see me. I could not tell it’s gender but I assumed the bloodied figure was male because of it’s bulky and broad physical build. It was difficult enough to look at him without the of feeling uneasiness and sickness so I tore my parched eyes away from the entities fraught presence. I felt more and more fatigued as the butcher trudged over to the grubby table where the barbaric and savage arsenal of tools lay still. I believed he shared a strong relationship with them, which deeply terrified and disheartened me.

I noticed, the front door closing slowly, making sure the souls of the murdered and dissembled victims who lost their lives here remain trapped in their dismay. My heart shattered and fell to the floor because I understood that, I was going to meet my inevitable end here. I here the horrendous movements of the butcher light the stove while also grasping a monstrously large cooking pot. I continue to curiously observe his strange actions. He unveiled another pot, but this one was corroded by blood and contained what appeared to be a variety guts and intestines. I covered my mouth in revulsion making a faint noise causing the butcher to jerk his head toward me instantaneously. I moved back in fear and out of reflex, he knows i’m here.