Horror

Hell Hound

By

Stephanie glanced up at the hulking, three-story elderly mansion. It seemed to glare at her with contempt as its dark taupe paint peeled from massive doorways and broken gutters. The porch was not inviting guests anytime soon as Stephanie’s forest green eyes roamed over two missing floorboards before an off-white screen door that hung precariously upon rusted hinges. The place screamed at her inner need for sanctity as her thin ruddy lips formed into a smile. “It is perfect, Steve.” Stephanie cascaded to where her husband stood with a frown, revealing how he really felt about the hoodwinked p...

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