I walked up the gravel driveway, staring at the house that seemed darker than the night sky. I stopped for a second, scanning the windows and the grounds for any movement. The air seemed still and quiet as I continued my walk up the abandoned drive up to the house. Nerves filled my stomach as I neared the house. I've been wanting to explore this house for a while, and after a few drinks, my feet naturally took me to the house.
Rumors around town said it was haunted, but I hardly believed them. I know ghosts aren't real, but I still love old places. There's something about the charm of them that gets to me. The way that everything stands the same way it was when the last inhabitants had it gives me chills. It's like a portal back to history, and in that sense I wish that ghosts were real so I could talk to them about how they lived. It's a fantastical idea, but just not at all possible.
As I entered the house, the door creaked shut behind me. The eerie silence was loud as my soft footsteps treaded the old carpet. The house was old and left untouched minus a few vandals. I found myself in a large foyer with a chandelier on top. The chandelier was missing most of its crystals, but it still shone softly with the moonlight that streamed in. I followed the moonlight beam to the staircase and decided to follow up. As I took a step forward I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I quickly whipped around to see if anyone was watching me but was only met with the front door. I stood still for a minute and looked around, waiting for someone to jump out at me. Probably nothing, I thought. The local ghost stories must have gotten to me.
As I reached the top of the stairs I overlooked the railing, trying to see if anyone had followed me in. It was instinct to do so, probably the result of being a woman, but I strangely felt comfortable. Despite feeling like I have eyes on me, I felt safe. I continued my walk to the back room, talking to the space.
"Just in case ghosts are real and they are here, my name is Johanna. I'm not here to take anything, just here to look." I felt silly talking to the air, but it's probably better to be kind to nothing then to be rude to something.
"I know there was once a duke or someone who lived here." I rambled as I pushed open a door. Inside was a beautifully preserved bedroom. On the far wall was a four poster bed that looked like it had just been made. An empty fireplace was on the right side of the room while a dresser and table sat on the left side, equipped with a giant mirror. I wandered in, feeling colder as I got more towards the middle of the room.
"I'm sorry you died." I blurted out, unsure what else to say. As I reached the center of the room I turned in place, looking at all the decor that filled the room. I stopped when I faced back the way I came, seeing a giant portrait beside the door.
"This must've been you" I said under my breath, more towards myself. I walked towards the painting.
""You were very handsome, no wonder you were a duke. I bet you had all the girls over you." I stopped at the bottom and admired the features.
"Or maybe the painter made you this way, I know there was a lot of incest back then. It would be cool if ghosts were real, then I could see how you really look." My hand reached up to touch the frame, but as I got close I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I let out a soft yelp as I turned around, being met with an empty room.
"Okay, I know I said that, but I would not want to see a ghost." I sincerely said. I shook my head and shoulders, sure it was the nerves getting to me. It wouldn't harm to see an attractive man. Oh god, I need to get out of the house more.
I walked over to the bed, sitting on top of the covers in the middle of the bed. No dust lay on this bed, and it was surprisingly comfortable. I stole a glance at the painting across the room, laughing at the spook I had earlier.
Although looking more at the painting, I couldn't tear my eyes away. I felt my chest start to get heavier. Was I really getting turned on over a painting? I really needed to stop reading romance between a prince and an ordinary girl.
"How disrespectful I'm being, feeling this way about a dead person." I laughed to myself, laying down on my back. As soon as I hit the bed I could feel such a weight off my shoulders, as if I was weightless. I sank into the mattress with a sigh, feeling pleasure from the relaxation. The image of the portrait didn't leave my mind. Would it be rude to masturbate here? I'm alone after all, something I don't get in a house of roommates. Maybe I should take advantage...
