Voices

300 words or less. Had to use the words- ancient, snow, prison.
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  The ancient building sat upon the hill, it's menacing features sending chills down the boy's back. It was either that, or the snow that fell from the darkening sky. He decided it must have been both.

  He arrived at the doors that had been heavily guarded decades before. Now all it had was a deadbolt that seemed to have already been broken by past intruders. Of course, this was no surprise.

  Drawing in a sharp breath, the boy pushed open the door. "You got yourself into this, bud. You can't just wimp out now," he told himself.

  His eyes took some time adjusting to the light, which left him wishing he'd brought a flashlight. Hands held out in front of him, he fumbled through the dark.

  Clank

  His jaw clenched as he stopped in his tracks. The noise was close. Closer than he would like it to be.

  The boy swallowed down his fear and kept walking. By now, his eyes had become accustomed to the quality of the light. Not that there was any quality. Another clank, and this time a whisper, too. He closed his eyes and prayed that he would be okay. His hands suddenly lost the wall that he had used for navigation through the hall on the first floor.

  Whispers consumed his mind. They were all around him now. He put his hands over his ears and fell to the ground. They only got louder. The boy curled into a ball and his teeth grinding together. He was no longer in control of his body.

  He should have listened to the rumors. He shouldn't have let his pride get in the way of his judgement.

  But what were they? They had been nothing but silly stories.

  At least he thought so.