He stopped and peered through the letter slot to see if anyone was there. The only thing he saw was the dim upstairs light. The perspective of going inside the old house was far from being inviting but Harry mustered all his courage and, pushed by curiosity ventured through the door. Cold and mist filled the air leaving the upper floor light his only indication on his path. He starting feeling shallow as he slowly crept up the wooden stairs as everything was turning gray, even the light was darkening. The ongoing silence felt more and more oppressing and the stairs were getting longer as he climbed. There were voices now...some whispered, some shouted and Harry felt lost. The gray was turning black with flashes of red almost like eyes glaring at him. His eyelids were suddenly covered by hands and he tryed to fight back as claws started to dig in his neck. He thought it was the end for him, he could feel death pulling him into total darkness. Harry fell on his back and grass tickled his hands. The smell of flowers filled his nose and he opened his eyes to see that he was still in front of the old house. He wasn’t sure he even went in until he felt blood tricking on his neck. Cuts like claw marks were scattered over his skin...
Traduction
Il s’arrêta pour jeter un coup d’œil dans l’ouverture pour lettres pour savoir si il y avait quelqu’un à l’intérieur. La seule chose qu’il vu était la lumière de l’etage
