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"The Last Swing"
"Meet Mr. Robert Stanton, a seventy four year old man who's past is the only thing he has left. He is about to unlock a door with the key of imagination. Beyond it lies another dimension of a time; of space...a place where he hopes to find his past again. But then, we may never know. Only a child holds the key."

"Dad? Are you still down there? We're ready to go. All the rest of your things are packed," Caroline, his only daughter asked looking down the basement stairs.
"You go ahead, I want to look through some of these old boxes of things I've saved over the years," Robert calling up from the of bottom of the stairs.
"Well okay. I'll drop the rest of your stuff off at the Elderly Home then be back. Amanda wants to stay to keep you company," closing the front door behind her.

"What are ya doing grandpa?" Amanda asked skipping down the stairs. Sure is creepy down here."
Robert was sitting on an torn brown sofa under a light looking through a box of old photos. "Just looking through some old pictures sweetheart."
"Can I see?"
"Sure, have a seat," patting the sofa with his hand.
Sitting down next to her grandfather, ten year old Amanda asked, "Where's the colour?
"What?"
"The photos. They're all black and white."
"We didn't have colour when I went to school," turning over several more pictures.
"What's that one?" Quickly pointing her finger to an old schoolhouse."
"That's where I went to school. Think I was about your age when this photo was taken."
"That's a cool swing. Wish we had swings like that at our school," looking up at her grandfather who had tears in his eyes. "Why are you crying grandpa?"
"Just some old memories sweetheart," glancing back at her.
"So why don't you go visit your old school?"
"It's not there anymore. It's been gone along time."
"Maybe we could find it again?"
"I don't think so sweetheart," pausing, "But sometimes I wish I could. I miss those days."
"I'll bet ya it's in an old closet upstairs."
"In a closet?"
"Ya, there's a door inside the closet that will take you anywhere you want. I use to go lots of places when I came to visit you on weekends," smiling as she looked up. "Wanna see?"
"So where is this magic closet honey? Did you make it up?"
"No way. It's really there. Come on, I'll show you."
Well, I guess I could have a look. Are their any monsters up there? Winking at her.
"Just in case you better hold my hand," slipping her small palm into his. "We're safe now."

When they reached the top of the basement stairs Amanda tugged his arm. "It's on another floor. Am I going to fast for ya grandpa?"
"Just don't run, I'm old you know," smiling at her.
"You're not old...just a few wrinkles...you'll be okay," leading the way to the staircase then up to the top. "It's at the end," pointing down a dimly lit hallway.
"I don't remember this part of the house," looking around.
"Sure you do grandpa...remember when those men were working up here and had everything blocked off?"
Thinking for a moment, then looking at Amanda, "Must have been that time when I had that small stroke..."
"Ya, you were in the hospital for a few weeks."
"Are you sure it's up here?
"Ya, it's the last door at the end," leading him down the hallway. "Here we are," standing in front of the door. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a key turning the lock. The door creaked as the rust from the old hinges slowly carried the door open.
"Where did you get a key?" He asked looking down at her.
"Oh, I always keep it just in case I want to go somewhere. Come on, I'll show you," turning into the room. "There's the closet door," pointing to a mahogany door with ornate carvings covering the wood.
"So what's inside?"
"There's another door at the end on the right. Here's that picture of your old school with the swing," pulling the photo out of her back pocket. "You'll need it to find your way. Got it?" Looking up at him.
"Did you make up this game sweetheart?"
"It's not a game grandpa. It's real, I've done it hundreds of times..." pausing, then thinking... "I gotta go feed my cat. You'll have fun grandpa. Just remember, inside the closet," turning around and closing door as it locked behind her.

Amanda's Mom pulled her car up in the old driveway. Struggling with a few bags in her hands she walked up to the front door and stepped into the house. Seeing Amanda on the floor playing with her cat she asked, "Where's grandpa honey?"
"Looking up she said, "He went back to visit his old school."
"What?"
"You know, that small schoolhouse he went to when he was my age."
Putting her bags down, she kneeled down next to her daughter. "That old schoolhouse was torn down forty years ago. So where is he really Amanda," sternly eying her.
"Like I told you mommy, he went to visit his old school and all his friends."
"Don't lie to me Amanda," raising her voice. "Now where is he? Tell me!"
"I'm not lying," starting to cry. "I just took him up to the third floor...that's all."
"The third floor?"
"Ya, that last room at the end of the hall."
Standing up and and walking over to fireplace, then turning around her mother asked, "You wanna go back to that hospital?"
"No! Why would you send me back there?"
"Because you're making up things again."
"I'm not making this up. Really, I'm not," looking up at her mom.
"Yes you are Amanda. This house doesn't have a third floor. So what did you do with grandpa?"

● Story by Abbie Stewart
● Photo: Abandoned schoolhouse outside of Wichita, Kansas

© 2017 ABBIE STEWART ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ON WRITTEN MATERIAL
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"Revenge"
Emily Wilkerson and Julie Thornton turned their red convertible off the main highway onto an old dirt road leading up to Norton Hall. Both had shared a room at the Hall the four years they had attended Norton University. Reading about the Hall being closed and deserted, they decided to return to their old room - and perhaps take care of some old, unfinished business as well.

"Sure looks creepy," Emily stepping out of the car.
"Let's see if it's open," Julie pulling her backpack from the back seat.
"Nope. Locked," both cupping their hands over the window trying to make sense out of the darkness inside.
"You still think that creepy old janitor is still living here? After all we planned?"
"He'll be here. Norman Dexter doesn't like changes. I brought a lock pick set. I'll try it," Julie turning the short metal rods inside the lock. There! Got it," pushing down on the steel handle and opening the door.

"Woa, what's that smell," glancing at Julie.
"Probably death."
"What?"
"Just kidding. There's the stairs up to the rooms. Let's check it out."
Up the stairs to the third level, their room was at the end of the hallway. The door was cracked open.
"Wow, can't believe the beds and furniture are still here," Julie pouncing on her old bed.
"Look," pulling out an old picture from the top dresser drawer. "It's all three of us," walking over to Julie's bed and sitting down.
"That's right, I remember that. We were at that Frat party when boner boy took it," laughing. "We sure were a great team."
"Come on Jul, we still are!"
"You're nothing," Norman Dexter standing at the doorway with a 9mm pistol. "Thought you bitches might come back," slowly moving to the side of the room.
"Hey Norman. Still screwing your dog? Or did ya get a bigger one?," Julie laughing.
"Shut up," pulling back the trigger. "So why did ya come back? Your dead cat? I still got her in an old shoebox down in the basement...kinda rotten though."
"Shall we tell him Em?"
"Well, I don't know. Maybe Jennifer should."
"What the hell are you two talkn' about?"
"Right here Norman," Jennifer stepping out of a dark closet holding a double barrel shotgun. "Drop it, less you want a hole in ya," pulling back both triggers.
"Don't shoot, please. I was just playin' around. Really."
"Ya sure," Emily picking up his gun. "You're just a real pervert for raping my fourteen year old sister. Now it's payback time."
"On the floor asshole," Jennifer pushing her shotgun into his back. "Now!," Watching him sink to the floor.
"Surprise, surprise Norman," Julie walking over to Jennifer. "Told you he'd be here. Sorry about sticking you in a closet."
"Ya, claustrophobic," giving a smile. "Here's the rope I brought. Just like you said."
"Ok girls. Let's get this done. Tie him up and we'll take him down to his basement."

Five levels below their old room Julie kicked open Norman's basement door. "Get him up there," Julie handing the rope to Jennifer. "Pull him up and tie him to that large wood beam along the ceiling...
hand me that duck type, will ya Em?," Ripping off a piece and taping his mouth."
"So, what are you planning to do Jul?" Asked Jennifer.
"Oh, I don't know Jen. What do you think?"
"Cut his manhood off...ya, that should do it."
"Em?"
"Ya, do it," Emily nodding at Julie.
"Ok ladies," picking up a hatchet.
"What's that Norman? I didn't hear you. Don't do it? Is that what you said? You're sorry for raping Emily's sister? Guess I'll just have to slash through those trousers. Maybe I'll just count 1, 2, 3..., moving right in front of Norman. "1...2..."
"3!" Emily firing the shotgun at Julie dropping her to the floor.
"Get him down Jen," tossing over a small closed knife.
"She's dead Em. Good shot," Jennifer untying Norman's hands and feet.

Walking over to Jennifer lying in a pool of blood, Emily just stared at her.
"You did good sweetie," Norman putting his arm around her. "We just couldn't take a chance that she might get suspicious of our plans."
"Ya, real good," Jennifer taking Emily's hand, then Emily resting her head on Jennifer's shoulder.
"She just kept cheering on her three brothers to keep raping my little sister over and over again..."

● Story by Abbie Stewart
● Building: Derelict and Abandoned Norton Hall, Lincolnshire, England
● Photo by Tom Parkes on 500px
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awesome
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The first people to witness paranormal behavior reported seeing disembodied ghostly figures in the area. Today, both staff and visitors to the site claim to have seen a worried ghostly woman clad in black as well as a little girl, Annie. They have also reported hearing strange footsteps following them.
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"A Four Sentence Horror Story at an Abandoned Train Depot 1895"
"What was it like at the end of that long dark tunnel?" Jennifer asked.
It's was like when the lights go out, and something with claws grabs you by the arm and pulls you down into a deep hole."
"But you got out," Jennifer questioned.
"Not really. Jennifer's still back there."

● Story by Abbie Stewart
● Photo: Abandoned Train Depot, Detroit, Michigan 1895
● Photographer unknown
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awesose picture
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The first paranormal sighting at Borgvattnet was in 1927 when a chaplain saw his laundry being torn by an unseen force. Years later, a priest was visited by an apparition of an old woman dressed in grey. She appeared in a room and vanished in another. At one time, a guest at the same house woke up at night to see three old women sitting around her bed.
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very cool picture
Originally shared by ****
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