Day 305

The old townhouse was well known for the black ivy encompassing its walls.
Locals called it "The Old Fur Place" after the plant's almost furry appearance.
It had a scientific name that nobody bothered to remember.
No matter what websites said, it was the Fur Place.

The doors were always locked but nobody lived there.
Didn't stop people from seeing faces at the windows and pale arms reaching from behind the ivy.
So far nobody had dared to go inside, content to know the building was always locked.
As stories often go, it was time for that to change.

When has a young person ever listened to the warnings they are given?
When have they given up after being warned against something?
This youth was no different to the rest, a young teen by the name of Bryce.
He read on some forum somewhere that the Fur Place wasn't empty.

In the Victorian times it belonged to a fairly rich businessman.
His family we're involved in some kind of scandal and they just upped and left one day.
They took none of their belongings, not even their shoes.
They just locked the door and fled for America leaving a full house with black ivy.

After browsing some antiques websites Bryce reckoned there could be some serious valuables.
It was worth the risk of being caught trespassing, he could get rich from this!
The the Fur Place was right on the edge of the town centre, just before the main road out.
His time to strike came early one Wednesday morning, the town was practically dead.

He put it down to the heavy snow they had last night and made his way to the back of the house.
He even used a branch to cover his tracks as best as he could (which was barely passable).
He was never suspicious of the eerie quiet that seemed to swallow the house as much as the ivy.
After pressing newspaper to the glass of the back door he punched through the thin surface.

As the tutorial had said, it barely made a noise.
Slipping his arm though the broken window he managed to fumble the rear latch open.
The door creaked as he pushed it open, propping it slightly ajar with a broken brick he found nearby.
The house wasn't very well lit, the windows have been caked with grime for years.

The ivy had put anyone off wanting to clean them so it was left like the rest of the place.
It was with this in mind that a Bryce had brought a torch with him and many back up batteries.
Shining the beam around he noted that the ivy grew thickly inside, perhaps through a window?
It was mostly roots by the look of it, they seemed much more hair-like.

He checked the ground rooms first, finding photos of the old family, faded and ivy covered.
They looked pretty normal and their daughter had been beautiful and about his age.
Her hair was long and dark, her smile looked sweet and sincere.
Bryce took a photo of her from an icy-ridden cabinet and slipped it into his pocket.

He also slipped some silver looking cutlery and a mantle clock into his rucksack.
The pantry stank of rotten food so he avoided that, besides who would keep valuables in there?
His next stop was the upper floor, the bedrooms should be full of jewellery.
There were five rooms, three on the left and two on the right of the staircase.

He chose left first, get the most done as quickly as he could in case he'd been seen.
He ducked to avoid the windows, unaware of the large eyes that followed him under the ivy-flooring.
None of the doors had been locked so far, some were even wide open.
The story about the family leaving seemed more and more true the further he went.

Room number one, the furthest left was the master bedroom judging by the huge bed.
As he'd suspected there was indeed a jewellery box and it was full of buts and bobs.
He slipped the whole thing into his bag.
Hopefully the next room would be as promising.

As he stepped into the second room he heard the sound of footsteps coming up the staircase.
Treading as softly as possible he slipped into the room and through the first door he found.
It was a bathroom door which he pushed to just as the steps crashed onto the landing.
It sounded like someone had fallen over so Bryce crouched down and held his breath.


Whoever had fallen was now making groaning noises as something rustled out there.
Their groaning quickly became choking and faint cries for help.
Bryce was starting to panic, what the hell was happening out there and how many people were there?
The cries for help grew fainter and gradually stopped.

Shuffling noises drew closer to the room he was in, wait no it was more like dragging noises.
He was trapped, he had no escape route - the bathroom had no windows but so much ivy.
It was even coming from out of the old taps and into the bath!
A rude made the decision to use his torch as a weapon against whoever was coming.

He was so fixated on the door handle he didn't notice the plants around him shifting.
As the door was slowly opened he saw nobody at eye level.
Looking down he was confronted by a corpse wrapped in the ivy and being pulled towards him.
He screamed and dashed for a far corner, nearer to the bathtub.

The plants lifted the corpse off of the ground and held it near to the bath.
The ivy within the tub shifted and a young girl about his age sat up.
Her hair was the same dark colour as the photo he had and so long he couldn't tell it from the ivy.
She turned to face him, her eyes closed and a peaceful smile in her face.

She stopped smiling as her eyes opened to reveal vine filled sockets as black ivy leaked like tears.
The corpse was suddenly snapped in half with a sickening crunch and dropped into the bath.
The young girl stood up and held out her hand to Bryce.
A second crunch briefly filled the air and then all went still.

The young girl lay down again, content to feed.
Dreaming of the next brave explorer.
Ever hungry.
Ever patient.