I tossed and turned in my sleep, my body restless and filled with a strange energy. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the heat rising in my chest as the dreams intensified.
Soft lips pressed against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I moaned softly as they traced a path down to my collarbone, nibbling gently at the sensitive skin.
Slender fingers traced their way down my chest, teasing and caressing my skin. I arched my back as they found my nipples, circling them lightly before giving them a gentle pinch.
I gasped as the fingers pinched my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. My cock twitched beneath the sheets, already hard and aching for attention.
The fingers continued their exploration, trailing down my stomach and dipping below the waistband of my boxers.
"Oh Jack..."
The sultry voice echoed in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. Her hand wrapped around my hard cock, stroking it slowly as she whispered my name.
I moaned loudly, my hips bucking up into her hand as she continued to stroke me. Her touch was both gentle and firm, and I could feel the heat building inside me with each stroke.
Her lips moved to my ear, nibbling on the lobe as she whispered, "You're so eager, aren't you? So desperate for me to touch you, to taste you."
Her smirk sent a thrill of excitement through me, and I couldn't help but stare at her as she pumped my cock. Her breasts bounced in perfect rythmn with each movement, and I felt a primal urge to reach out and touch them.
"Yeeessss please touch them baby." She moaned as she positioned herself above my cock.
"Gladly," I said, my voice hoarse with desire.
I reached up and cupped her breasts in my hands, marveling at their weight and softness. My fingers traced over her hard nipples, rolling them gently between my fingers as I watched her hover above me.
She moaned as she began to grind against me, her slick folds sliding along the length of my cock. The sensation was maddening, and I could feel my control slipping away with each pass of her hips.
"I need you inside me, Jack."
Suddenly the room was filled with light and I awoke to the sight of car zooming past mine as it nearly collided with my rear bumper.
"Ah fuck." I moaned in protest as I realized my wet dream was rudely interrupted.
I started the car and made my way back onto the road. Determined to make it to my new home.
For as long as I can remember, I've always dreamt of owning my own place. Somewhere to hang my hat, and let myself lounge about in my boxers.
And that day finally came the day my grandfather died. He was an old, eccentric man, and I didn't know him too well. Apparently, he had some sort of soft spot for me, though, because he left me his old house.
I was surprised when I received the news, but also secretly thrilled. This was my chance to escape the small town I'd been living in my entire life and finally get some freedom.
^BEEEEEEEEEEEP! BEEP! BEEP!^
I'm startled out of my thoughts by the sudden honk of a car horn. A lime green jeep cuts me off and comes to a sudden stop in front of me, nearly causing me to slam into the back of it.
"What the fuck?!" I exclaim as I swerve to avoid a collision.
I watch in disbelief as the driver of the jeep, a middle-aged woman with a scowl on her face, zooms off down the highway at 80-85mph.
"Goddamn it," I mutter under my breath as I continue to drive, my heart still racing from the near-miss.
"Welcome to Ohio. Is this what living here is gonna be like? God, I hope not." I said to myself as I begin to calm down.
As I was saying before I got rudely interrupted. I am now the owner of a 3 bedroom house somewhere in the woods of Brunswick, Ohio.
As I drive further down the road, I can't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. Ohio is a big change from the small town I've lived in all my life, and the thought of living alone in a secluded house in the middle of nowhere is both exhilarating and a little scary.
I glance out the window again, watching the trees whiz by as I get closer and closer to my new home. The air is cool and crisp, and the scent of pine fills my nostrils.
As the sun begins to set, casting a fiery red-orange glow over the landscape, I make my way down a winding country road. The trees on either side of the road are a mix of green and orange, their leaves beginning to change with the onset of autumn.
The air is quiet, except for the occasional chirp of birds and the crunch of gravel under my tires. It's peaceful out here, and I can't help but feel a sense of calm wash over me as I drive towards my new home.
The sky continues to darken as I drive deeper into the woods, and the air grows cooler. My headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the winding road ahead of me.
Finally, I spot a familiar landmark up ahead: an old oak tree that stands tall in a clearing. I was told by the agent to turn right after I saw that.
I turn onto the long, winding driveway leading up to the house, feeling a small shiver run down my spine. The trees seem to close in around me as I drive deeper into the forest, their branches casting eerie shadows across the road.
It's a bit creepy, I have to admit, but there's also a sense of mystery and adventure to it. This is the beginning of a new chapter in my life, and I can't help but feel a thrill of excitement as I near my destination.
The trees finally part, revealing the large, old house at the end of the driveway. It's an imposing structure, made of stone and wood, with a circular driveway in front of it. A dead fountain sits in the center of the driveway, the water long since dried up.
The house is surrounded by a large yard, filled with overgrown grass and weeds. It looks like it hasn't been tended to in a long time, but it still has a certain charm to it.
I pull my car into the driveway and shut off the engine, feeling a mixture of awe and trepidation as I take in my new home.
The manor is a large, three-story structure made of stone and wood. The walls are a deep shade of gray, with hints of black and green peeking through in some spots.
The windows are large and arched, and they're partially obscured by a thick layer of dirt and grime. The emerald green shutters that frame them are slightly askew, as if they haven't been adjusted in years.
The front porch stretches across the entire width of the house, with a set of wide steps leading up to the front door. The steps are made of dark stone, and the railings on either side are twisted metal vines.
I whistle as I take in the sheer size of the place. It looked bigger than the pictures I was sent.
"Damn this place is huge!"
As I take in the sight of the manor, awe and excitement quickly give way to a sense of dread. I'm suddenly reminded of the state of disrepair that the house is in, and the realization hits me like a ton of bricks.
"Shit."
I've inherited a fixer-upper, a giant project that's going to require a lot of work and money to get back into shape.
I try to get out of my Grey Kia Sol, yes I know I'm a basic bitch, but find the wind pushing against me and almost smashing the door into my leg. I push harder and manage to get out of the car. I close it and stare up at the third floor window. It's nearly pitch black inside but I think I can make out curtains hanging on either side of the window.
Something moves inside.
Just for a split second I swear I saw something move away from the window.
Did I imagine it? Probably. I mean, I am all alone in the middle of woods standing in front of a huge creepy house.
I summoned what courage I had and pushed forward. I walked up the steps to the front door, and could hear my shoes grinding against the old stone with each step.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves as I reach for the keys in my pocket. The wind picks up around me, rustling the leaves on the trees and sending a few tumbling down to the ground.
I insert the key into the lock, feeling the cool metal against my fingers. I turn the knob and hear a satisfying click as the door unlocks.
I push open the heavy wooden door and step inside, taking in the sight of the large foyer before me. The room is expansive, with a high ceiling and a polished wooden floor.
The air is stale and musty, with a hint of cigar smoke lingering in the air. I wrinkle my nose as I take in the smell, realizing that the place has clearly been left untouched for a long time.
At the end of the foyer is a grand staircase, spiraling upwards to the second floor. The banisters are made of dark wood, and the steps are worn with age.
I glance up at the coat hangar beside me, and my heart clenches as I see my grandfather's old coats and fedoras hanging there.
They're dusty and faded, with the scent of old cigars clinging to them. It's a painful reminder of my grandfather's absence, and for a moment I'm struck with a wave of grief.
Above the coat hangar is a large painting, depicting a ship sailing through stormy waters. The waves are churning and the sky is dark, but the ship appears to be undaunted by the elements.
SLAM!!!
The sound of the door slamming shut echoes through the foyer, making me jump. I turn around to see the door shut firmly behind me, the sound of the wind still whistling through the cracks in the old house.
I shiver, feeling a sudden chill run down my spine. The house seems to be closing in on me, and for a moment I feel a pang of loneliness and isolation.
I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that's settled over me. With a determined stride, I begin to explore the house, taking in the various rooms and hallways as I go.
The house is vast and empty, with rooms upon rooms that are just waiting to be filled with furniture and decorations. The silence is deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of the old floorboards under my feet.
I walk into the dining room on the left, taking in the sight of the long, dark wooden table that dominates the space. The table is flanked by matching chairs, their seats upholstered in a faded red fabric.
Against the wall is a large mahogany stained hutch, filled with old plates and other dinnerware. The hutch is ornate and elegant, with intricate carvings along the edges.
I walk into the kitchen, which is surprisingly spacious and modern compared to the rest of the house. The centerpiece of the room is an island, made of granite and equipped with a sink and stove.
The cabinets and appliances are all in good condition, and there's even a small breakfast nook tucked away in the corner. It's a far cry from the dusty and musty rest of the house, and I can't help but feel a flicker of hope that maybe the kitchen will be one of the easier rooms to fix up.
"Well at least he didn't skimp on the kitchen."
I glance to my right and notice a door that leads down into a cellar. The sight of it sends a shiver down my spine, and I hesitate for a moment before opening the door.
I peer down into the darkness, feeling a sense of unease wash over me. The cellar looks dark and dank, and I can't help but imagine all sorts of creepy things lurking down there.
"Nope, never going down there."
I walk out of the kitchen and cross the foyer to the right side of the house. I enter a parlor, which appears to be used as a sitting room.
The room is furnished with an old, worn orange couch and a television set from the 90s. The TV looks out of place in the old house, but at least it provides a small bit of modern comfort.
I walk into the office, which is filled with stacks of papers and documents piled high on the desk and surrounding shelves.
As I scan the room, my eyes are drawn to a letter lying on the desk, addressed to me. My heart skips a beat as I see my name on the envelope, and I reach out to pick it up.
With trepidation I open the letter and immediately I get a lump in my throat as I realize it was written to me just before he died.
Dear Jack,
If you're reading this letter, it means I've passed away. I want to start by saying how much I love and cherish you. You are my only grandson, and I'm so proud of the man you've become.
I know this may come as a shock to you, but I have some important things to tell you. First and foremost, I want you to know that I left you this house for a reason. It's a special place, with a lot of history and secrets that I never had the chance to share with you or the rest of the family for that matter.
But before you dive into those secrets, there are a few things you need to know. First, I want you to watch the tapes I have labeled on the shelves. They're arranged in chronological order, from 1992 to 2019.
Second, I want you to promise me that you will never, ever go near the old well in the backyard until you have finished watching all of the tapes. It's dangerous and you won't understand until you watch those tapes.
Third, I have left you a modest inheritance in the old library. You need to pull the owl in the parlor and you will gain entrance to it. I know you may have thoughts of grandeur but please use it wisely. It will have to last you a few months because you will be far too busy watching the tapes and getting the necessary supplies ready for your journey.
I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but please trust me. There's more to this house and its history than meets the eye, and I want you to be prepared for what lies ahead.
Love always,
Grandpa
I stared at the letter, my mind racing with questions and doubts. What could possibly be on those tapes that grandpa deemed so important? Was it some kind of secret that had been hidden for years?
And why did he warn me to never go near the well? Was it cursed or haunted or something else entirely? The possibilities swirled around in my head, making me feel more and more apprehensive with each passing moment.
As my stomach growls, the sound snaps me out of my thoughts and brings me back to reality. I realize that I'm not in any shape to go out and get groceries right now.
With a sigh, I pull out my phone and begin to search for local pizza stores. The highest rated one is a place called, Marco's Pizza.
I place an order for a large pizza with pepperoni, sausage, and extra cheese. As I wait for it to arrive, I pace back and forth in the foyer, unable to shake off the feeling of unease that has settled over me.
The house feels even more oppressive now that I'm alone with my thoughts. The silence is broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner, and I can't help but feel like something is watching me.
"Where is that damn pizza?"