The Midnight Write, Episode 1: The Junk Shop
Not too far from my house, about a couple blocks away, lies a mysterious and unorthodox house where antiques and old junk make a living. The place has a rustic, almost haunted charm, with creaky floors, decaying walls, and a roof that appears as if it’s about to cave in. The place is sorely dilapidated, almost as if it should be condemned, but that only adds to the joint’s twisted, gnarly appeal. As I walk through the barely-hinged door, I saunter through the aisles upon aisles of old junk from decades past, an island of misfit toys, if you will. The items decorating every table seem almost cursed, like props from a grisly horror movie. Suddenly, I hear something. It sounded like a scream out of the past had resurfaced, taking aim at my very soul! I tried to run away, but that tortured old spirit found me, struck me and consumed me whole! I have become that tortured child, as I am unable to move, unable to speak, lost in this cursed old ju...