The broken tension
The darkness swallows him up. There is a hushed silence, almost unnatural. A mysterious mist crawls across the ground towards the silhouette of a skinny towering figure. The shadow backs away from it, cowering.
‘Who is there?’ he calls out. ‘Answer me!’
A light shines into the distance and we catch a glimpse of the surroundings. He stands in a grave yard; vines cover the artificial stone slabs which stand propped up. The light dims suddenly and a cold breeze runs down my neck, goose bumps bristling the hair on my arms. I shiver and the man looks frantically around the space. A woman’s spine tingling, high pitched scream pierces through the tense silence. I jolt. He bolts down the uneven broken paving slabs of the graveyards pathway and the translucent swirl of gauze lifts up. A decrepit mansion stands in the not so far distance. He runs to the door, hesitating on the step. The mansion looks fit for rulers of the supernatural, though somehow unreal. The ‘moonlight’ casts a ghoulish glow onto the building. He pushes against the door and it begrudgingly creaks open. The light dims and there is a blackout.
The scene shifts to a darkened hallway. There is silence except for the intermittent creaks and moans. Sharp shadows roam around the room. The lights brighten and we see the man clearly for the first time. He is tall and slender, with short dark hair and bright blue eyes. He looks lost in the uninhabited world of the paranormal. He looks as if he were in his late twenties, worn down from the strain and stress of working long hours late into the night. His cheekbones were slightly sunken with bruised like bags under his eyes. His breathing was heavy, rising and falling through his black waistcoat, which was placed on top of a white shirt with rolled up sleeves. His watch hung loosely from a gold chain, hanging carelessly out of his waistcoat pocket. He looked around the hallway, suspiciously. Black and white picture frames hung off-centre...