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body div#devskin0 hr { }

    Kurt walked up to the old house. It was small and made of wooden boards, with huge nails sticking out haphazardly. There were no windows, and the roof had some holes in it. He climbed the stairs and looked back at where his friends had driven away. He probably shouldn’t have accepted the dare to spend the night in the old house. Either way, it was too late now. He was too far from the main road to walk there, and even then, there weren’t many cars that drove on it at night. He was several miles from his town, and he didn’t want to walk it. He sighed and turned the doorknob. It turned stiffly, and the door swung open with an eerie creak. He walked inside, looking around nervously.

    “Hello?” he called, and then shook his head at his stupidity. No one had lived here for decades. Not after the family that had lived here disappeared. After that, a few people had tried to live there, but they always got scared and left. He didn’t remember what their reasons were, but he didn’t really like the house.

    Creak Kurt jumped, looking around. He frowned, peering into the darkness. Why are there no windows? He thought. He stepped forward into the foyer, glancing around. dust everywhere, and an old umbrella stand. The splintered remains of a small table lay on the floor. Kurt started walking towards the hall when he heard the clanking of pots and pans deep inside the house. He froze, and watched as light began to shine from underneath a closed door. What the hell is going on here? He thought. He walked toward the light, and stopped outside the door. He paused, hesitant to turn the knob.

    “What are you doing here?” Kurt screamed and fell over, putting his arms up to shield himself. He heard soft laughter and lowered his arms. A young man, about his age, stood leaning against the wall. He was much taller and thinner than Kurt’s own short, stocky frame, and had black hair and pale skin, in stark contrast to Kurt’s blond hair and tan skin.

    “Who are you?” Kurt asked.

    “Name’s Dorian. You?”

    “Kurt. Why are you in here?”

    “Same as you, probably. Friends dared me to come in here. Am I right?”

    “Yeah. Absolutely right.”

    Dorian held out his hand to help Kurt up. Kurt took it and stood.

    “I found so much stuff up on the second floor. Let me show you.” Dorian gestured for Kurt to follow him, and they climbed the rickety, creaking stairs next to the glowing door. Kurt had forgotten about the noises and whatever was in the room as he followed Dorian up into a bedroom. The room was filled with sketches and drawings, all in charcoal. The walls, ceiling and floor were also covered, but with weird scribbles. The subject matter varied, but each piece of paper was about some creature gaining an incredible amount of weight. Kurt frowned.

    “This is weird.” He said.

    “I know, right? There’s a whole bunch of weapons in another room.” Dorian told him.

    “I would like to get out of this room. I feel like I’m being watched.”

    “Absolutely. I don’t like this room either.”

    The two left, but neither of them noticed the little girl sitting on the bed. she smiled as she held a pad of paper in one hand, and reached for a piece of charcoal in the other.

    The next room they wandered into was indeed filled with weapons. Boxes full of knives and swords glittered in the moonlight coming in from holes in the ceiling.

    “Why haven’t they rusted?” Kurt asked.

    “I have no idea. When I came in, I wondered that too. There are old pistols and rifles in here too.”



    Scratch. Scratch. Charcoal on old paper. A teenaged boy, once in good shape, and now his body becoming softer and larger.



    “What is this?” Kurt asked as the entered the last room. Clothes lay scattered and torn across the floor, and some looked like they were thrown in.

    “No idea. It looks like there are more than when I came in here earlier, though.” Dorian said worriedly.

    Bang Something fell downstairs, and both boys shouted and grabbed each other tightly in an awkward hug.

    “What the hell was that?” Kurt asked quietly.

    “Rats, probably.”

    “There was a closed door down there. There was light inside.” Kurt finally remembered what he had seen.

    “Makes no sense. The house has been empty for decades.” Dorian said dismissively.

    “I know what I saw!” Kurt said angrily.

    “Okay, okay. Sure.”

    “You can let me go now.” Kurt told him. The taller boy glanced down, nodded quickly and they stepped away from each other.

    “You’re warm.” Dorian said.

    “And you're cold as ice.” Kurt told him.

    “Everyone says that.” Dorian said quietly. Kurt took his hand, trying to warm it up.

    “Friction won't help.” Dorian told him. “I’ve tried.” He sounded sad, and his eyes were hooded. His hair fell down onto his forehead, concealing his eyes.



    Scratch. Scratch. Another line, another stroke. The girl smiled, her brown eyes changing to glowing red ones. Her smile widened, revealing sharp teeth. He will bring us food She thought. Even her inner voice was raspy and guttural.



    “What’s wrong with that? Being cold to the touch, I mean.” Kurt asked.

    “I’ve been trying to get warm for so long… I’m always so cold…” Dorian muttered. Kurt looked at him concernedly, and then hugged him again. Dorian looked down at Kurt.

    “What are you doing?”

    “You said you were cold.” Kurt muttered.

    “Thank you.” Dorian said.

    The floor shifted suddenly, and a loud crash was heard underneath them. The boards they were standing on bowed and broke, sending them falling into darkness. Kurt landed on top of Dorian on a mossy stone floor. Dorian grunted in slight pain.

    “You okay?” Kurt asked. Dorian nodded. “Thanks for breaking my fall.” Kurt grinned and Dorian laughed slightly. Kurt looked around. they were in a small kitchen. A lantern sat on the counter, providing light to the room. A fire crackled in the fireplace.

    “I think this is the glowing room you were talking about.” Dorian said.

    “Yeah. how could a fire start if there’s no one around?”

    “Ghosts.” Dorian sounded calm. Far too calm. He should have been in pain from falling onto a hard stone floor, with added weight falling onto him. He sounded fine. He had treated the whole thing like a boring occurrence.

    “What do you mean?” Kurt looked down at him nervously.

    “Don’t you remember the stories? A family disappears inside the house. The tenants that try to live here afterward don’t stick around. they said that the house was creepy, and that something was watching them. No one can live in the house, Kurt. Because everyone died.”

    “What are you talking about?” Kurt rolled off of Dorian and stood up. Dorian just lay on the ground, staring up at Kurt.

    “Everyone except one. There was a girl. She had the power to draw, and whatever she drew came true. Her family kept her locked in her room. They were afraid of her. But she got a hold of something to draw with. And she made them pay. Of course, she starved to death, in an ironic twist of fate. But she’s still here.” Dorian told Kurt. His eyes were blank.

    “You’re insane.”

    “Decades of being stuck in here does that to you.”

    “What?” Kurt asked. Dorian stood up.

    “I didn’t lie to you. my friends did dare me to come in here and spend the night. But it was years ago.” Kurt began backing away from Dorian, trying to figure out where the door was.

    “Door’s locked, Kurt. I’m sorry. You’re not getting out. Even if it wasn’t…”

    “Then what?”

    “You’d still be screwed.” Dorian looked sad.



    Scratch. Scratch. The final touch was put onto the drawing. The girl smiled and stood up, ripping the page from the pad and throwing it into the air. It floated up and then landed on the ground, where it glowed and smoked. She grinned and floated down through the floor.



    “What are you saying?” Kurt was beginning to panic.

    “I’m saying that--” Dorian stopped, looking behind Kurt. Kurt turned and saw the girl.

    “What the hell are you?” Kurt screamed, lunging backwards, tripping. Dorian caught him and held him tightly, his arms crossed over Kurt’s chest, holding him still.

    “Dorian, I trusted you, what’s going on?”

    “I don’t know. I honestly don’t.” Kurt looked down and began screaming. His stomach was ballooning outward, and his whole body was swelling and growing thicker and flabbier. his legs were forced apart as he swelled, and his clothes were incredibly tight. Dorian was incredibly strong and held Kurt upright and still as he grew. The girl smiled and clapped, never speaking a word.

    “Dorian. Who is she?” Kurt’s face was swelling as well, and growing more chins.

    “The girl I told you about. The one who can draw the future.”

    “Bull--”

    “Tell me I’m lying.”

    “This has to be a dream.” Dorian laid the now-immobile Kurt down, crouching next to him. with a final bang, Kurt's shirt fell off, and his jeans split. he was more of a lumpy, doughy half-circle than a sphere, and his limbs were being sucked into his body.

    “And so it is. In a few moments you will wake up. I hope you can forgive me. I didn’t want to do this.” Kurt was feeling incredibly full, incredibly tight, and about to explode.

    “She has to feed. And she hasn’t in a while.” Dorian looked concerned, and leaned down closer to Kurt’s now-round face. “See you soon.” He said, and lightly kissed Kurt’s forehead. Dorian looked up at the girl, who merely waved her hand. He grimaced and vaporized into shadow. Kurt watched her lean over him, grinning and hissing slightly.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

    Kurt walked up to the old house. It was small and made of wooden boards, with huge nails sticking out haphazardly. There were no windows, and the roof had some holes in it. He climbed the stairs and looked back at where his friends had driven away. He probably shouldn’t have accepted the dare to spend the night in the old house. Either way, it was too late now. He was too far from the main road to walk there, and even then, there weren’t many cars that drove on it at night. He was several miles from his town, and he didn’t want to walk it. He sighed and turned the doorknob. It turned stiffly, and the door swung open with an eerie creak. He walked inside, looking around nervously.

    “Hello?” he called, and then shook his head at his stupidity. No one had lived here for decades. Not after the family that had lived here disappeared. After that, a few people had tried to live there, but they always got scared and left. He didn’t remember what their reasons were, but he didn’t really like the house.

    Creak Kurt jumped, looking around. He frowned, peering into the darkness. Why are there no windows? He thought. He stepped forward into the foyer, glancing around. dust everywhere, and an old umbrella stand. The splintered remains of a small table lay on the floor. Kurt started walking towards the hall when he heard the clanking of pots and pans deep inside the house. He froze, and watched as light began to shine from underneath a closed door. What the hell is going on here? He thought. He walked toward the light, and stopped outside the door. He paused, hesitant to turn the knob.

    “What are you doing here?” Kurt screamed and fell over, putting his arms up to shield himself. He heard soft laughter and lowered his arms. A young man, about his age, stood leaning against the wall. He was much taller and thinner than Kurt’s own short, stocky frame, and had black hair and pale skin, in stark contrast to Kurt’s blond hair and tan skin.

    “Who are you?” Kurt asked.

    “Name’s Dorian. You?”

    “Kurt. Why are you in here?”

    “Same as you, probably. Friends dared me to come in here. Am I right?”

    “Yeah. Absolutely right.”

    Dorian held out his hand to help Kurt up. Kurt took it and stood.

    “I found so much stuff up on the second floor. Let me show you.” Dorian gestured for Kurt to follow him, and they climbed the rickety, creaking stairs next to the glowing door. Kurt had forgotten about the noises and whatever was in the room as he followed Dorian up into a bedroom. The room was filled with sketches and drawings, all in charcoal. The walls, ceiling and floor were also covered, but with weird scribbles. The subject matter varied, but each piece of paper was about some creature gaining an incredible amount of weight. Kurt frowned.

    “This is weird.” He said.

    “I know, right? There’s a whole bunch of weapons in another room.” Dorian told him.

    “I would like to get out of this room. I feel like I’m being watched.”

    “Absolutely. I don’t like this room either.”

    The two left, but neither of them noticed the little girl sitting on the bed. she smiled as she held a pad of paper in one hand, and reached for a piece of charcoal in the other.

    The next room they wandered into was indeed filled with weapons. Boxes full of knives and swords glittered in the moonlight coming in from holes in the ceiling.

    “Why haven’t they rusted?” Kurt asked.

    “I have no idea. When I came in, I wondered that too. There are old pistols and rifles in here too.”



    Scratch. Scratch. Charcoal on old paper. A teenaged boy, once in good shape, and now his body becoming softer and larger.



    “What is this?” Kurt asked as the entered the last room. Clothes lay scattered and torn across the floor, and some looked like they were thrown in.

    “No idea. It looks like there are more than when I came in here earlier, though.” Dorian said worriedly.

    Bang Something fell downstairs, and both boys shouted and grabbed each other tightly in an awkward hug.

    “What the hell was that?” Kurt asked quietly.

    “Rats, probably.”

    “There was a closed door down there. There was light inside.” Kurt finally remembered what he had seen.

    “Makes no sense. The house has been empty for decades.” Dorian said dismissively.

    “I know what I saw!” Kurt said angrily.

    “Okay, okay. Sure.”

    “You can let me go now.” Kurt told him. The taller boy glanced down, nodded quickly and they stepped away from each other.

    “You’re warm.” Dorian said.

    “And you're cold as ice.” Kurt told him.

    “Everyone says that.” Dorian said quietly. Kurt took his hand, trying to warm it up.

    “Friction won't help.” Dorian told him. “I’ve tried.” He sounded sad, and his eyes were hooded. His hair fell down onto his forehead, concealing his eyes.



    Scratch. Scratch. Another line, another stroke. The girl smiled, her brown eyes changing to glowing red ones. Her smile widened, revealing sharp teeth. He will bring us food She thought. Even her inner voice was raspy and guttural.



    “What’s wrong with that? Being cold to the touch, I mean.” Kurt asked.

    “I’ve been trying to get warm for so long… I’m always so cold…” Dorian muttered. Kurt looked at him concernedly, and then hugged him again. Dorian looked down at Kurt.

    “What are you doing?”

    “You said you were cold.” Kurt muttered.

    “Thank you.” Dorian said.

    The floor shifted suddenly, and a loud crash was heard underneath them. The boards they were standing on bowed and broke, sending them falling into darkness. Kurt landed on top of Dorian on a mossy stone floor. Dorian grunted in slight pain.

    “You okay?” Kurt asked. Dorian nodded. “Thanks for breaking my fall.” Kurt grinned and Dorian laughed slightly. Kurt looked around. they were in a small kitchen. A lantern sat on the counter, providing light to the room. A fire crackled in the fireplace.

    “I think this is the glowing room you were talking about.” Dorian said.

    “Yeah. how could a fire start if there’s no one around?”

    “Ghosts.” Dorian sounded calm. Far too calm. He should have been in pain from falling onto a hard stone floor, with added weight falling onto him. He sounded fine. He had treated the whole thing like a boring occurrence.

    “What do you mean?” Kurt looked down at him nervously.

    “Don’t you remember the stories? A family disappears inside the house. The tenants that try to live here afterward don’t stick around. they said that the house was creepy, and that something was watching them. No one can live in the house, Kurt. Because everyone died.”

    “What are you talking about?” Kurt rolled off of Dorian and stood up. Dorian just lay on the ground, staring up at Kurt.

    “Everyone except one. There was a girl. She had the power to draw, and whatever she drew came true. Her family kept her locked in her room. They were afraid of her. But she got a hold of something to draw with. And she made them pay. Of course, she starved to death, in an ironic twist of fate. But she’s still here.” Dorian told Kurt. His eyes were blank.

    “You’re insane.”

    “Decades of being stuck in here does that to you.”

    “What?” Kurt asked. Dorian stood up.

    “I didn’t lie to you. my friends did dare me to come in here and spend the night. But it was years ago.” Kurt began backing away from Dorian, trying to figure out where the door was.

    “Door’s locked, Kurt. I’m sorry. You’re not getting out. Even if it wasn’t…”

    “Then what?”

    “You’d still be screwed.” Dorian looked sad.



    Scratch. Scratch. The final touch was put onto the drawing. The girl smiled and stood up, ripping the page from the pad and throwing it into the air. It floated up and then landed on the ground, where it glowed and smoked. She grinned and floated down through the floor.



    “What are you saying?” Kurt was beginning to panic.

    “I’m saying that--” Dorian stopped, looking behind Kurt. Kurt turned and saw the girl.

    “What the hell are you?” Kurt screamed, lunging backwards, tripping. Dorian caught him and held him tightly, his arms crossed over Kurt’s chest, holding him still.

    “Dorian, I trusted you, what’s going on?”

    “I don’t know. I honestly don’t.” Kurt looked down and began screaming. His stomach was ballooning outward, and his whole body was swelling and growing thicker and flabbier. his legs were forced apart as he swelled, and his clothes were incredibly tight. Dorian was incredibly strong and held Kurt upright and still as he grew. The girl smiled and clapped, never speaking a word.

    “Dorian. Who is she?” Kurt’s face was swelling as well, and growing more chins.

    “The girl I told you about. The one who can draw the future.”

    “Bull--”

    “Tell me I’m lying.”

    “This has to be a dream.” Dorian laid the now-immobile Kurt down, crouching next to him. with a final bang, Kurt's shirt fell off, and his jeans split. he was more of a lumpy, doughy half-circle than a sphere, and his limbs were being sucked into his body.

    “And so it is. In a few moments you will wake up. I hope you can forgive me. I didn’t want to do this.” Kurt was feeling incredibly full, incredibly tight, and about to explode.

    “She has to feed. And she hasn’t in a while.” Dorian looked concerned, and leaned down closer to Kurt’s now-round face. “See you soon.” He said, and lightly kissed Kurt’s forehead. Dorian looked up at the girl, who merely waved her hand. He grimaced and vaporized into shadow. Kurt watched her lean over him, grinning and hissing slightly.