There's an old school on the hill by my house. It's been closed for years, and I've never quite understood why it hasn't been torn down. The lawn is over grown and it had been vandalized for years. Broken glass scattered the lawn outside, and hardly a window was unbroken. The only thing that had been done for it was boarding up the windows on the first floor to deter rebellious teenage kids from breaking in...not that it worked.
There were rumors about it, and stories. I'd starting hearing them from the very first time I laid eyes on the school, and that's when my fascination began. Some said it was built on an Indian burial ground. Others said that someone had gone crazy and killed a bunch of kids in there. I knew these weren't true, because when it was open, a functioning catholic school, my grandmother attended it. There are no records of murder, suicide, or any burial ground. When I was nine years old, someone told me that if you stopped in front of it, you would die within 5 years. The day before hearing that, I had stopped to tie my shoe across the street from the old school. As I lived past the age of 14, I knew that was also untrue. I did find out that every building that had ever been built in that spot had burnt down. Sure enough, I woke up one morning in middle school to a knock on the door, my neighbor telling us that the school was on fire. The gym part of the school was rubble, but the rest stood. And still nothing was done to tear it down.
Whatever else may be untrue about the old school, I knew, deep in my bones, that there was something evil there or perhaps the school itself was evil. The first time I broke into it was at the age of 18. I could tell you countless stories of things that have happened to me in, around, or involving the school. But there's only one story I want to tell you, of the very last time I ever went into the school. It was last Halloween.
I had always wanted to go to the school on Halloween night, but my friends thought I was crazy, and no one would come with me. So I had to go alone, and I wasn't going to put it off any longer.
My boyfriend's best friend was having a huge Halloween costume party, and I knew we had to make an appearance there. Thankfully, his house was only a block away from the old school. Kevin and I got ready and in costume together at my house. He was going as a pimp, and I was his whore for the night. Standing there in his fur coat and ridiculous pimp hat, he stared at me, lust building in his eyes.
I have to say, I was quite a sight. I was wearing a tight black spaghetti strap top that formed to my C-cup breasts, which were pushed up nicely by my black strapless bra, and came to just above my belly button. A few inches of my slim, firm tummy showed above the waist of my low-riding denim skirt. The skirt itself was only about 6 inches long, and when I bent over, my black lace thong was clearly visible. I was wearing shear, thigh-high stockings that ended just below the bottom of my skirt and black open-toed platform shoes completed the outfit. My short red hair hung just slightly over my eyes, which were accented with a touch of black eyeliner and mascara.
Kevin stared at me like that for a few minutes, before moving over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pulling me hard against him for a deep kiss. My panties grew instantly damp, as I felt lust for him grow deep in my belly at his rough touch, and returned the kiss with enthusiasm.
"Mmmm, hunnie, we can't, we'll be late," I said as we broke the kiss, and I could feel his hardness pressing against my tummy.
"Just a quickie?" He asked, pleadingly, his voice breathy and full of desire.
"I'll make it up to you when we get home," I promised, winking and walking away, swaying my hips seductively. He let out a low groan and followed me out the door.
We decided to walk to his friend Brandon's house, since it was within a few blocks. Our walking path took us right by the old school, and I could feel energies flowing from it; I could almost feel it hating me. I started to have doubts. 'No.' I told myself. 'It's Halloween, and you need to go in there.' I firmed my resolve, and we kept walking to Brandon's, Kevin having no idea what I was planning.
We arrived at the party to find it in full swing, full of vampires and angels, witches and ghosts, most of whom were well on their way to being drunk. Upon entering we were each handed a beer and started to mingle. It was your typical drunken Halloween party. People were making out all over the place, costumes getting messed up, and make up smeared. I left Kevin's side temporarily to go to the bathroom, and came back to find him funneling beer with his friends. I decided this was my time. Stopping for a moment to let Karen, Brandon's girlfriend, know that I was going for a walk, I left.
I walked to the old school, and went up the drive way around to the back door, where I knew an easy way to get in. I cursed my sluttish costume for a moment, knowing that it would make this expedition harder. At the back door, I ditched the platform shoes and nylons, knowing that there was a chance I could cut my bare foot on broken glass, but not wanting to risk tripping or slipping. I boosted myself up onto the railing of the staircase leading to the boarded up, tightly sealed door, and tossed my purse through the window above the door. I followed it, crawling through the tight window frame and dropped to the floor on the other side. I took out the small flashlight I had stored in my purse, and proceeded inwards to the vandalized, crumbling halls I had come to know so well.
From the second I had set foot in the driveway next to the school, I knew it was alive with energy tonight, and I longed to feel it more, as much as it terrified me. I was not disappointed when I entered; I knew something was going to happen tonight. The air inside was colder by far than the fall air I had walked there in, and I felt goose bumps forming on my skin. I was excited and terrified all at once at the thoughts of what might happen. The combination of feelings caused my pussy to dampen once again as my heart raced. I was so turned on by fear and the unknown.
My feet led me to my favorite room, which I am pretty sure must have been the chapel. It was a large, high ceiling room, empty except for an altar directly across from the door way, and a crucifix behind it. This room had been vandalized badly. There were dirt and paint chips all over the floor, as well as shards of glass from the many broken windows. Spray paint covered the wall, most of it representing the occult and anti-Catholicism. The broken windows were 2 floors up and looked out onto the street, and light from the street lamps shone inside. I turned off my flashlight and stored it back inside my purse.
Just then, I heard footsteps in the hallway. My heart stopped in my chest, and I held my breath, backing as soundlessly as I could into a dark corner. I stared toward the doorway as I heard the footsteps nearing the room I was in. I said a silent prayer to whatever gods may have been listening to me, in that evil place, on that haunted night.
