It's a short story about a couple who go on holiday, and it turns into a bit of a horror story basically. I wrote it 2 years ago when I was 14, si it's probably not very good, but I liked it at the time
The tyres crunched onto the gravel and the car made its way up the long winding driveway towards the house. His brilliant blue eyes twinkled in the mid-day sun as she lay peacefully on the white leather seat.
The birds in the trees were singing and it was a truly wonderful day, not a cloud in the sky. They could just relax this afternoon, have a rest, and settle in; they could explore the grounds tomorrow. He felt way too tired to do anything other than that after the twelve hour journey. It had been a long night, pitch black, freezing cold, the headlights had barely penetrated the thick smothering fog, but that was Ireland for you.
“Megan?” he said as he gently nudged her “Megan, we’re here now”
She looked up at him and smiled. She had never been happier; he was everything she could have wished for, thick dark hair, amazing eyes, great personality, plenty of money. Best of all though he was the only person who ever cared for her.
She gazed in awe at the huge ancient house. The lions at the entrance stared straight at them, icy stone stares. No, she was just being stupid. The house was beautifully made. The intricate detailing on the windows matched the weathered stone work perfectly. It almost had a personality of its own, a story to tell…
They slowly stepped out of the car. The elegant black Lamborghini fitted in perfectly with the surroundings. Imagine if they could actually live here, it would be perfect for them. They could never live here though. Not even he could afford a place like this. It was gorgeous, a gothic paradise.
She looked across at the other cars and smiled to herself, theirs was by far the best. The others probably would have been grand a few years ago, perhaps longest for the furthest away. The paint was peeling away from the rusting body work, the windows were all smeary and they were all covered in the crisp autumn leaves. Perfectly aligned, evenly spaced and at perfect right angles to the house as if measured precisely.
The gull-wing doors smoothly slid shut as he took her hand and led her up the stone steps toward the huge oak door. He slowly raised his hand, grasped the brass door knocker and gently tapped.
After around three minutes the door swung open and the hotel owner smiled out at them. A handsome young man, mid twenties, dazzling green eyes. His hair was black as midnight and skilfully worked into a fringe that covered one eye with messy spikes at the back. He wasn’t at all what they had been expecting, an elderly gentleman, perhaps, would have been a lot less surprising. What really got her though were his eyes, twinkling away like emeralds. She could tell instantly that Danny didn’t like him. Danny disliked it when she talked to other young men. She didn’t mind though, he was all she needed. She would die for him.
“Ah Mr Clayton and Miss Lloyd. Welcome to Taoibh Coille house. I’m Charles Jennings, the owner of the hotel. I finished the conversion about 7 years ago now. The original house was built in 1875 and was then renovated in...”
Megan and Danny grinned at each other as he rabbled on and on about the history of the house, all they wanted to do was rest. It was like listening to an ageing historian-not a young man.
“Oh sorry, am I boring you? You must both be shattered; I shall show you to your room.”
He turned and hurried off across the entrance hall toward the staircase. It was lovely she thought as they picked up their bags and followed Mr Jennings up the stairs. The grand glass chandelier hung above them like crystal stalagmites, ready to fall. Megan stopped and looked up, directly at them. They looked like daggers… One last glance upward and she ran up the stairs after Danny, this place was scary, but beautiful all the same.
“Oh, here it is, number seven, lucky for some.” Mr Jennings stated as he handed them the keys and walked briskly toward the other end of the landing.
The room was simply stunning, better than they could ever have imagined. Breathtaking in fact. Embroidered net curtains gently wavered in the breeze as they hung delicately from the four poster bed. It was pure class. Every square inch of wall covered in intricate detailing swirling round and round, into oblivion.
They slung their suitcases down onto the carpet, tossed their shoes off and lay back on the bed. They sank into the luxurious mattress, to say that they were tired after the tedious twelve hour journey would be an understatement. Within a matter of minutes she had drifted off into a long, peaceful sleep as she thought about the wonderful time that they were going to have here.
They awoke with a start. The rain lashed violently against the ancient windows and the wind whistled through cracks in the stonework. The room suddenly seemed so big, and black, empty almost, as if the walls had disappeared. She desperately clung to his arm as the storm raged through the darkness, knowing that he would protect her, comfort her, forever and always.
The storm must have lasted for hours but when they awoke once more it was morning and the sun beautifully illuminated the room. It was hard to believe she had been so scared just a few hours ago, it was just a silly little storm, there hadn’t been anything to worry about. They hastily dressed and made their way down to the dining hall. It was wonderfully laid out; hot steaming food and chilled juices and milk, but not a person in sight. It seemed slightly odd to them but at least it was peaceful, a far cry from London. The other guests were probably out somewhere, on a walk perhaps, or maybe still in bed after the disturbance of the storm; it was only eight thirty, still quite early for some she supposed.
After breakfast, they decided to have a wander around the grounds, they were just as good as Megan had been expecting, the flowers and hedgerows beautifully trimmed, the lawn beautifully mowed. It was elegant and she loved it, not like anything she had ever owned before she met him. They walked and walked, making casual conversation as they went. After around forty-five minutes of walking they reached the bottom of the garden to find an old wood. The trees were gnarled and ancient and the undergrowth was immensely overgrown, it was totally different from the rest of the grounds. It was like the house, old and exciting.
Their eyes twinkled as they looked upon it; a short glance at each other and they stepped into the woodlands. It was beautiful, natural, enchanting. They didn’t notice the brambles tearing at their legs and the branches clinging to their clothes. It was amazing, magical almost, like a completely different world. It seemed safe somehow.
They had walked all day without noticing. It was all she’d ever wanted. Their world. Just the two of them. It was starting to get dark but they didn’t mind. Didn’t even notice in fact as they rested under an old oak tree. He realised that he didn’t need the house, the money and the car for happiness, just her. She closed her eyes and wished, wished that she could stay her, in the woods, forever with him’ until the end of time. She could feel him gently leaning against her, she was tired too. She opened her eyes, ready to look into his. That wasn’t what she saw, not brilliantly blue eyes but dazzling green, not an inch from her face…