How could a house have killer daisies? It could if it's End House; a house with The Dead in its walls and under its floors, and revolving rooms of horrors.
While she was fleeing for
her life, Diane thought back to happier times at End House—at the beginning.
At first sight the house
had seemed to be just another dark, run-down mansion left to decay into the ocean. However, after her initial visit Diane had already known that this
house was special.
To visit End House was like visiting a page
from the past: a joyous time of grand parties and luxurious lifestyles. An
elegant staircase swept upward past marble pillars, cradling intricate statues
of gargoyles.
The house was fit for a
prince or a princess, which was how Diane had felt in her new home. The parlor was complete with
elaborate moldings and a marble fireplace. It wasn’t furnished—none of the
rooms were—but its past elegance was still apparent. An enormous crystal
chandelier hung in the grand ballroom, filling the room with sparkling rainbows
of light. The white marble staircase in the main hall had been her favorite
part of the house, complete with opulent red carpeting running down its center.
Descending these stairs had made her feel like an actress in a classic movie.
After the massive
construction that she and her husband had conducted on the mansion over the
past year, End House appeared beautiful once again. The spacious rooms had been
repainted and modernized. Red rose
bushes and a thick forest of tall trees had been planted around the outdoor
pool. The indoor pool had been updated with a sauna and Jacuzzi in a white-tiled
room.
About two months ago, the
mood of the house had turned malevolent. The staircase had flattened itself out
during her descent, causing her to fly down their steep slope. Each day
afterward brought with it another evil prank against her family.
In the middle of the
night, she would often find herself
roaming through the wooded grounds—without any memory of how she’d gotten there. As she passed through doorways, she never knew which room she would be stepping into,
since the rooms often switched locations. Once she’d walked into her daughter’s
bedroom and had found herself in a flamboyant boudoir, furnished in red with
ornate tables and brocade draperies from a long-gone era.
Yesterday her husband had
entered their bedroom and had become lost in a field of daisies. It would have
been a pleasant experience for him—if the daisies hadn’t transformed themselves
into man-eating plants with long, sharp teeth. She’d found him running through
the house, shrieking about killer daisies chasing after him. If she hadn’t been
so afraid she would have found it funny, but nothing was ever funny about the
house’s long list of evil pranks.
After his heart-stopping
experience, John had agreed that it was time for them to pack up their
belongings and leave their home.
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