Member-only story
Joe eased The Beast (a raging yellow Ford Granada with a giant smiley face on the hood) into a gravel spot on the side of the dead end road. The house at the end of the green lane had no driveway, only a walking path to the front door. Smiley could see why it had been used as a party house. Nobody around for miles to hear the music. Or the screams. Nobody that would could complain, anyway.
The dense trees seemed to fold over the small road, and the house itself, making a green tunnel that was somehow incredibly foreboding. There were no other cars on the street, yet Smiley felt watched, as if the trees were peering at them with a thousand, thousand leafy green eyes.
Joe slotted the shifter into park, clicked the engine off and pulled up the emergency break. For a moment they sat together in silence. They were both thinking the same thing, and they could feel it. I don’t want to go in that house. And at that moment, the wind blew through the trees, making an airy shuffling sound, muffled by the car windows.
Joe looked over at Smiley.
“Well?”
“… Let’s go n’ get this shit over with.” Replied Smiley, feigning a sort of professional comfort.
They both took their time unbuckling and getting out of the car however. There was a palpable uneasiness about this place…
