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TheBobfather
08-24-2008, 09:45 AM
This is my first time writing a horror novella, so be as harsh as you like! I'm half way through chapter one and this is what I have so far.

The story is entitled "Erica and Dr. Terror's House of Horror's"



Chapter One

An Invitation


The advertisement, though buried beneath larger efforts, was clear and simple enough for those who knew what to look for. And Erica was indeed one of them. After writing down the information in her handy leather-bound notepad she had bought that morning, she flicked back her long black curly hair to peer out of the window which was quickly gathering the first few drops of rain. More was to come, as always. On the opposite side of the university, several of the rooms turned off their lights in perfect unison, both a remarkable coincidence and a promise the same would occur in the library she had occupied all evening. After packing her books and coursework away, Erica placed the notepad in her inside coat pocket before checking her features in the window’s reflection. The marks on her cheek had receded since this morning. That cat had a vendetta against her for sure. No wonder the pet storeowner was so happy with the sale.

The lights overhead blinked dimly as she walked down the stairs to the exit. Opening her umbrella (the rain was much harder now), she made her way to the parking area, and in the corner of her eye she noticed a blank figure staring down at her from one of the above dorms before disappearing into darkness. Quickening her pace, she approached her vehicle and sighed miserably at its less than pleasing features. So, my parents can afford me my own flat but not a descent car? A rather nifty way of keeping me in one place, she thought. Still, sometime soon maybe I’ll get one of those new Gliders. One passed over her head the instant she thought it, all with the crisp reassuring wurr the television adverts seduced her with everyday. Meanwhile, the boot of her measly gravity-bound car opened with a less than inviting sound and, as she threw her bags inside, another Glider passed above, coloured in a rather fetching pink shade. Damned rich kids, she thought, before recalling her own life of luxury.

Inside now, Erica looked up at the threatening room where the figure once stood in the safety of her car. This was the third time this week she felt prying eyes glistening in the shadows. But no matter, she started the car with usual difficulty and drove off noisily. The road seemed even less remarkable nowadays, what with flying traffic in the sky, but it would get her to where she wanted to go. To make sure, Erica stopped at a crossroads and pulled out her notebook, reading her due location:

54 LANSBOROUGH ROAD.

As the rain increased in intensity, Erica felt glad to park. These window wipers are only useful to those who don’t actually like seeing the road, she thought. Parking a few streets away from her destination, she placed a cigarette in-between her lips and sucked in flame, deciding to stay inside a while before bravely venturing into the uncompromising weather. Her reaction to the advert was instantaneous, a once in a lifetime opportunity even rarer due to the ever shortening life expectancy these days. A chapter of her thesis was waiting to be checked through at home, something she would usually relish to do and, once more, the morning promised another entertaining meeting with her favourite lecturer Dr. Jowett. But that can wait. That can all wait for a few days.

As the rain poured down, Erica sensed a kind of baptism in the air tonight.
The shadowy street glowed hazily orange from the lamps overhead, and most of the buildings were old and unlived in for many years. Old pieces of newspaper curved in the rain as the thick black ink trickled over the papers edge like a mini waterfall. With deduction, Erica could read one declaring AMERICA REPLIES QUICKLY TO RUSSIA’S MISSILE TESTING. An old one, she thought. She remembered trembling with fear when she first read it eight months or so ago. The rain began to cease as Erica stubbed out her drag, stepping out of the car with the smell of wet concrete filling her lungs.
The noise of her heels cracked unforgivably against the pavement whilst looking for the right building number. Soon, the 50s started appearing and, sooner still, the number 54 announced itself. Composing herself and lighting another cigarette, Erica pressed the door-bell. A crack in the door slid open suddenly and two gleaming blood-shot eyes pierced through her features.

“Yes?” the voice said, Erica reckoning it was an old man. “What is it?”

Startled at first, she replied nervously, “I saw an add in the paper. My name
is…I…It said to come here.”

“Hm. Wait here.”

The crack sealed abruptly as the eyes disappeared, and Erica was glad to see them go, remembering the films when Dracula’s eyes increased in redness when attacking his latest starlet. After a few minutes, and out of impatience, Erica pressed her ear against the door.

Nothing.

But, now, some footsteps.

The door unlocked with a loud click.

IBuryTheLiving138
09-17-2008, 05:26 PM
You're off to a really good start. I think this could turn into something successful.

novakru
09-24-2008, 06:22 PM
ooo!
Nice start, a little choppy, but nothing a good editor couldn't fix.
About cigarettes...seeing as how tobacco is a dying crop everywhere, and this is in the future, I would say leave it out maybe?