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by AshTur Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #2096425
Just a short piece from an amature writer.
The people along Cedar Way always had talked about number 13.

It was said to have been the home of Marcus Cedar, the founder of Cedar Way, a small village at the foot of the alps in southern France. It had also, despite its name, been the first house built here.

According to Marcus' memoirs, the house had been stood there when he had stumbled across the small valley while hiking along the alps. He had described it as: "Abandoned, but in perfect living condition."

No one had been able to explain the sudden appearance of a house in a place where there had never been one. Not that anyone tried, Marcus wasted no time in moving his family into the house permanently, claiming that it intrigued him.

Of course, soon after, Marcus was joined by other families, all wishing to get away from large cities and find somewhere quiet in the country. Houses had been built up, and now Cedar Way was a small town of about fifty or so houses.

Number 13 sat apart from the others, on the top of a tall hill. An old pathway lead up to it, through a large garden where Marcus' two children could often be seen playing. Their laughter would carry through the village and put a smile on the face of many residents.

Then, one day, some of the locals noticed something different. Something strange. Something that no one could quite put their finger on. Then, they realized...

There was no laughter, no delightful giggling from the two little children on the hill. In fact, there was no sign of anyone up there.

"Maybe they've slept in, everything's probably fine." They would say, dismissively.

It was not until the local postman's boy, Robert, headed up to number 13 in order to give Marcus a parcel from his brother, that they knew something was wrong.

A quick climb up the path through the normally flourishing garden would tell any onlooker that something wasn't right. Every single plant, even the grass, lay withered and dead.

Robert had hurried as a quick wind blew up, adding to the eerie, silent atmosphere that he could feel. He had tapped on the door and waited for a response.

No one came.

He knocked again, knowing someone had to be home. No one had seen the family leave, not even the locals who worked in the bar and would have been up all the previous night.

Still, no one came.

Robert headed back down to the town and had told the others what he had discovered. Cedars' neighbors had resolved to break in, suspicion's having risen to a complete new level.

After breaking the door of its hinges, the locals entered the house to find it devoid of any signs of life. Dead insects littered the floor, beds had been left unmade, the oven in the kitchen was still on from where someone had begun cooking. All the doors were locked, the radio blared static.

The Cedar family were never seen again.

It was for this reason the locals named the house number 13, and refused to allow anyone to move into it. All those who stayed in it for more than one night would mysteriously vanish without a trace.

It must have been ten years before the screaming started.

One night in mid-September, a loud woman's scream was emitted from the house, followed by those of a man and two little children. Many locals moved away, calling the house cursed and claiming that those were the screams of the Cedar familys' tortured souls. Others refused to be scared by what they called 'Ghost stories'.

They stayed.

However, those who refused to leave also began vanishing, one by one. First, children would be seen walking towards number 13 late at night and would enter, never to be seen again. Their parents would soon follow.

Now, Cedar Way is a ghost town, haunted by the screams of all its long gone residents, hidden behind a thick mist that will only clear under the light of a full moon.
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