The House on the edge of 13th street had plagued my mind for the last 15 years. That’s as long as I had been alive. Old oak boards blocked the mystery that layed behind the windows. How long had they been there? Who knew the answer, but they were coming down because I made it my mission to uncover the mystery. It was almost as if a force was pulling me towards the house, a nagging sensation to break down the boards. So, I finally caved. I rode my bike to the end of the street and parked it at the edge of the stop sign on the corner. I pulled out the small crowbar I had stashed in the front basket of my bike and made my way to the oak boards that had always enticed me, finally ready to unveil what was behind them. I inserted the crowbar between the rusted iron nails of one of the boards and pulled as hard as I could. After two pulls, it surprisingly pulled free off of the window. It was as if it wanted to be torn free. A smell hit my nostrils once I peaked my head inside. It smelled of decayed wood and a note of spice with a rancid undertone. Was I smelling death? I wasn’t sure but it enticed me even more. I crawled through the window and I entered the house with no fear. I looked around the room I was now in. The once white walls were stained brown and speckled with mold all over, like freckles on a face. The floors were carpeted with red and white checkered carpet. Carpeted like a typical living room. Except, it wasn’t decorated like a living room. No couch or chair was in sight. Just a small wooden table in the center. I continued to walk around the room, and in the corner I saw a pair of shackles hooked to the wall. Fear started to grow inside me but something kept pulling me to stay, was it my pride? I can’t recall but I needed to keep looking around. As I kept scanning my surroundings, I realized something odd. There was no other door except the front door or stairs. This entire house was just this one room. Now my pride was starting to wear off and I wanted to leave. This clearly wasn’t somewhere I wanted to be. I started making my way towards the front door when all of the sudden I couldn’t move. I heard a rattle as I was struggling to move and somehow my ankle was chained in the shackles that were in the corner. Panic started to spike all throughout my body. I sure as hell didn’t put the chains on myself, so who did? I pulled and pulled with no luck. My ankles became raw and bled from the pain of pulling. Finally, I stopped and almost sat down when someone grabbed me from behind. They spun me around and what I saw was a person completely covered in the house’s wallpaper. They pounced on me and put their hands around my nose and mouth and began to smother me. I couldn’t fight. I tried but it was no use. I was too weak to fight for being only a small 15 year old. I started to smell what I smelled before I entered the house. I was now certain this was the smell of death. When the life had finally escaped my body, the entity placed my corpse on the table and with its finger pricked my skin and put several drops of my blood on a piece of oak board sitting in the opposite corner I never managed to see. It then boarded the window I had once freed back up with the blood freckled board. Then, it took me into the wall. I’ve now become one with the house and in order to free my soul, I must wait for my future victim to get the same nagging enticement I once had.