The Burnt Chronicles/Chapter 4: (Stan) The Blood-Stained Note.

Hope you guys are having fun with this series, here’s chapter 4 🙂

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CHAPTER 4 (STAN McCalister) the Blood-Stained Note

 

It has been a month since the Burnt Iron Killer died, life was easier to handle now, recently me and my son Ryan, have grown closer as a family. We have been going to see movies and even the occasional baseball game at the Diamond Backs stadium. To be honest, I haven’t been the best father in the world; I have always deprived Ryan of a father figure. Every time my wife was mentioned, I would throw a fit. Or the beer that was in my hand. But that was another time. That’s the past, today was a new day, and my day off.

I woke up one morning in my bedroom, and for the first time I felt full of energy. Like everything was going to be ok again. I open my eyes and look outside my window to the left of my bed. My thoughts were practically void of the Burnt Iron Killer.

It was bright and clear outside, sunlight poured from the window to my right, revealing the atmosphere of the room. The room was painted a light blue; it has always been my wife’s favorite color. This was originally our room, but now I was its only occupant. There were two tan-colored, wooden dressers pushed against each other to the wall at my right. My wife’s cloths were still in there; four Family pictures hung on the wall to my left. However some of them hurt me to even look at them.

The one that caught my eye the most was a picture of Laura and me at the park. I giving her a piggy back ride and Ryan took the picture for us. We were so happy that day; somehow, I forgot how that happiness felt. I forgot about the innocent side of the world, and how things weren’t always so bad. I never thought that happiness could come back to me, after all this time. I sit up then look at that picture. “I’m sorry Laura.” I whispered, my eyes water up as I stare down at my ring on my fourth finger of my left hand. I touched it and looked at the now faded inscription, permanently engraved into it:

‘Forever and always’, it had said. I did miss my wife. God I honestly was a wreck without her, still am. But I promised myself that I would become Ryan’s dad again. I wasn’t going to push him out of my life any more. I had to be there for him and for Laura.

Her death should not mean Ryan’s abandonment. Once more I look to Laura’s picture now thinking to myself only two words: Forever and always

*

I quickly got dressed and walked out my bedroom. I was dressed casually, and not in my usual work tie and suspenders. As I walk down the hall to the stairs, I notice Ryan’s door was wide open. I hear the clanging of cereal hitting the glass of a bowl only to realize he got up early; it’s only Saturday. I continue to walk down stairs and proceed to the kitchen. As I walk through I see Ryan all dressed up, in a red hoodie and jeans. It was the first time I have seen him wear something other than black. “Good morning, dad!” He greets me with a smile. I liked seeing my son smile; it made me smile as well. “Good Morning.” I greet back. I then grab a bowl from the cupboards at the other end of the kitchen and take some milk from the fridge and reached into the cupboard to get the box of Cocoa Puffs.

I sit down at the table Ryan was sitting at, and take a seat across from him. I take a bite of my cereal with my spoon and Ryan continues to eat his cereal. The silence that followed lasted for a good 3 minutes until I decided to speak up.

“I’ve been thinking, Ryan” I tell him. He suddenly looks up at me and gulps down the Cocoa Puffs in his mouth. “What, Dad?” He responds now curious in what I have to say. I pause, and then speak again. “What were you doing at the station that night?” in almost an instant, Ryan’s face grew red. His eyes were slightly wide and his expression was suspicious.

“Um, why?” He stalls. “Because… I don’t think you could have predicted a bomb setting off at the station.” I suggest; Ryan sighs then looks down at his cereal, then he looks back up at me and was about ready to confess. I knew he couldn’t have held it in for this long. “I was… going to steal a file on Aunt Sharon and my cousins murder case.”

How did he think of this idea? Honestly, it’s stupid to even think about stealing from the police. The idea backfires on itself.

“I know.” I respond, His eyes widen again and his eyebrows slant in-ward, as if he was confused. “How did you know?“ He asks. “Son, I have been thinking the same thing you were thinking of for the past 2 years.” I explain. “Every day, I thought: Where was my brother? Did he run away? Was he afraid? Or was he the one who killed Sharon and the kids?” My questions were disturbing to me at the time, and I’m pretty sure Ryan felt the same way I did. “So soon after they died, I started to investigate. And once I first saw those people that B.I.K murdered, I-” Ryan stopped me and finished my sentence. “Thought that B.I.K murdered Aunt Sharon and the kids, and scared Uncle Devin off.” His expression changed and was more interested at my accusation than confused.

“You see Ryan; I have been into my fair share of trouble. Hell If I had been trying to solve a case like this when I was 17, then I probably would have thought I could do this alone. But the fact is we aren’t supposed to do these things alone. We need help from time to time.” I explain. “What are you trying to say dad?” Ryan asks, “I’m saying…” I pause to think then start to speak again, “I’m saying, I need your help Ryan.” I ask for his help. There was no more danger so I might as well ask him to help me find Devin, he was in fact an honors student in forensics, and maybe he could help. I want us to be a family again, and maybe together we can find my brother and help him.

“W-what, you want my help?” He stammers in reply. “Yes, you see; I was too harsh on you, and I’m sorry. But I can trust you and I know that he’s out there somewhere.” I explain. “But dad, where do we start?” I’ll take that as a: ‘Yes dad, I’ll help’. I think about what he asked and I come to a conclusion. “At the downtown station; I transferred all B.I.K-related evidence there.” Ryan makes that confused face again.

“See: I knew you would do this someday so I transferred the evidence into the evidence room of the downtown station.”  I knew what I was doing, not to mention I know my son better than anyone. “Smart.” He compliments. “It takes a detective to outsmart a detective.” I wink and take a spoon full of my cereal. He smiles and chuckles as well, then continues to eat his cereal. “So, Partners?” I bring up the question as I hold out my hand for him to shake it. He looks down at my hand, drops his spoon and firmly shakes my hand. “Partners.”

*

Soon after breakfast we drive into downtown Tucson in my Mazda. We are riding down Broadway and me and Ryan are talking about random things. Ryan chuckles in the passenger seat as I Finished telling a joke. “How come you’re not this funny at home?” He asks. “Well before I wasn’t in a ‘joke-telling-mood'” I responded while laughing.” Yeah, well I’m glad to see you in a good mood, dad.” He says with a smile. The laughter soon dies in the car after he spoke, and all we could hear was the rumbling of the engine. I haven’t talked to him about school lately so I guess I’ll break the silence.

“So how’s school going?” I ask still focused on the road. “School is ok.” He answers. His voice seems calm yet I could sense he was holding something back. I make a left down the main road and continue to speak to him. “Is there anything happening in school lately; Bullies, girls, projects? “; “Uhh No.”

Liar, he was never very good at lying. “C’mon! I know you, Ryan. Mr. Lady Killer!” I say encouragingly, if asking him doesn’t work then flattery will. He chuckled feeling good about himself, “Ok, well…” He pauses “There is this one girl.” He smiles and strokes back some strand of his long hair hanging between his eyes; I smile and look at Ryan then back at the road and check my rear-view mirrors, then I look at the road again and start the conversation on this girl he knows. “Ok then tell me, what’s her name? Is she cute? Does she know you exist?”

The question was supposed to be relatable. At my age I was always shy and had my face in a book. Bullies were the worst back then, they would always tease me for being short, or they would pick me up by the shoulders and throw me against the wall and beat me to a pulp. However I didn’t regret any of that, it toughened me up and made me who I am today.

“Her name’s Delilah; She’s in all my classes, and yes she’s cute. She’s beautiful actually.” He corrects himself, while his speaking he’s staring into nothingness and smiling at the same time. I never really saw him so happy. “She’s been sitting in front of me in every class, including forensics. We never talked before though.” His smile went away at that realization. ”I don’t know, I guess I’m just scared to come up to her and just talk, you know?” I stopped the car in front of a tall five-story tan building. We arrived at the down town station.

I turn to Ryan and he looks back at me. “We’re here.” He says. “Wait Ryan-” I stopped him before he could reach for the car’s door handle.

“Yes Dad?” He replies and looks at me.” When I met your mother, I felt the exact same way you did.”, “Embarrassed and Nervous?” He interrupts. “First let me just say it takes a man to admit that.” I pointed out and gestured at the fact. “And second, you don’t need to be ashamed or embarrassed. You just need to believe in yourself.” He looked at me looking confused. “Look just walk up to her and say: Hey, do you want to go out sometime? “, “But dad you can’t just directly ask someone on a date, it is a little stalker-ish; you have to get to know them better.” He explains. “Alright then ‘love guru’, show me the way, I’m all ears.” I wittingly tell him.

He chuckles and thinks or a second then puts on a straight face. “You first have to friend her on Facebook or something. Then the next day you act all casual and say: ‘Hey I saw you on Facebook. Do you want to hang out or something?’ And then you just play it off from there.”  Isn’t that what I just said? I mean we didn’t have social media in the 80’s but isn’t that technically what I just said? “So don’t do the direct approach yet, but friend her on Facebook first?” I ask sarcastically and smile at him. He gestures his left hand at me to try and make a point, but as he is about to speak, he’s at a loss for words and nothing comes out of his mouth. I think I just stopped his brain for a moment.

I smile and get out of the car to walk toward the building. My Car kind of stood out from all the other cars in the street. Ryan soon after caught up with me as I make toward the door. “We are not done yet.”; “No but I think you are.” I say confidently He groans as I chuckle, and we walk through the stations doors toward a front desk. The building was well-lit, and had plenty of room. The only down side to it was the multiple cops running up and about the station doing whatever business they had. The place looked like New York in rush hour.

The Front desk was made of marble and was very well kept and organized by the man behind the counter. He was wearing a tie and a white dress shirt with slacks.

“Hello sir, what can I do for you?” He asks me, “We would like to look at some evidence that was transferred here and to bring it to a secure location.” I confirm my business; however the man doesn’t seem too convinced.” And you are?” He questions. I quickly pull out my badge and show him my I.D;”Detective Steven McCalister, and this is my son Ryan” I gesture to Ryan at my right.”Ok detective right this way, But Ryan can’t come back to the room with us.” I look to explain to Ryan why he can’t come. “It’s ok I’ll wait here.” Ryan says. “You sure?” I ask. “Yeah it’s cool.”; “okay, be right back don’t move.” I tell him as I continue to the evidence room with the desk clerk and leave Ryan in the waiting room.

He led me down the hall and to a silver elevator surrounded by the silver hallway. We stepped into the elevator and sit in the re till we reach the 5th floor.” This way sir.” he gestures outside the elevator doors as they open. He turns left and I follow him to a gated area of the floor then he takes off a set of keys he had latched to his pants and he opens the gate and lets me in.” There you go sir. Check with the clerk at the desk to the right so that you can pull out whatever evidence you need. I’ll wait here.” He explains. I then leave the lobby with the desk clerk to the evidence room.

 

 

What felt like hours to get that box of evidence only took 20 minutes; why does time seem to slow down at the most dull moments? Whatever, at least I got the files. They were in a small office box that I had placed them in with a bold- lettered, red stamp on the top with the word confidential; I carried the box with me and I took the elevator with that clerk from the front desk.

Apparently, not even a professional detective can be trusted with the very documents he had transferred. When I reach downstairs I see Ryan sitting in a chair in the waiting area while officers just walk across the room, going along with their own business. Ryan looked uneasy, he was slightly slouching and was moving his eyes left and right trying to examine the room. Once he looks at me he gets up and walks toward me as I come to him holding the box of evidence. His movements were rushed and he looked tired.

“Did you get the evidence?” He asks with his voice sounded uneasy. “Yes I did, are you ok?” I respond.” Yeah I’m just thinking.”, “About what?” I ask. “Well…” He pauses and looks down then looks back up again.” What if we didn’t kill him? Or What if he escaped the fire?” I knew he was talking about the killer and I could understand his concern, the unpleasant tone in his voice sounded almost disturbed.” Son, he’s gone ok? We saw him unconscious, and all because of you.” I reply to his question.”I know dad, I just have this feeling, that he’s not dead.”

I look down and prepare a response. But just as I am about to speak, the P.A over the room comes on. “ALL UNITS REPORT TO 9675 EAST RAKER STREET, ALL UNITS PLEASE RESPOND NOW!!” Just like that every cop in the station storms out of the station in a panicking manor.

All the officers drop what they are doing and rush out the entrance to the parking lot and one- by- one they all leave in their squad cars. “What’s going on?” Ryan asks as he looks around at the cops running frantically outside.” I don’t know must be big though.” I reply. “We should follow them.” I look to him and realize maybe he’s right we should see what all the panic is about.

Quickly we rush into the car and I place the box of evidence in the back seat as Ryan rushes into the passenger side of the car, I immediately hop into the driver’s seat and pull out of the parking lot. “Raker Street, do you know where that is?” Ryan suddenly looked intense and worried.” Yeah we used to go by that street back when you were in elementary school.” I reply as I curve left at a green light, I am soon met with a police car on front of me and I proceed to follow them. “How do you remember that far back?” He asks. “You don’t really forget these kinds of things.” I tell him.” Yeah, but even I would forget.”;” I guess I have good memory then.” I reply soon enough we are stopped at the street address.

Swarms of cop cars cover the scene and all that remains visible is a house fire. Police soon get out of their cars to block off the scene. A fire truck soon arrives and pulls up to the curb next to a fire hydrant.” Dad let’s go.” Ryan suggests; I trust him and all but what if what is there is too gruesome for him to see. I guess it’s ok if he can come with me to investigate. “Sure” I replied uneasily.

We soon rush out of the car; soon after I locked the doors we get through the crowd of cars and make it to the crime scene. Ryan somehow got there faster than me; I could see him just standing there crippled in fear and shaking slightly. I finally caught up to him and saw the horror he had seen. “No…” He whispers as if he had saw death himself.

The body count was at a usual four people. All of them decapitated and burned slightly. Their heads were stuck on four shining metal poles. The blaze behind them was roaring with intense heat, engulfing the house in pure hell fire. The first head was one of a small infant, a small innocent child, now mangled and burnt to a crisp. The second and third was of a husband and wife, the eyes were gouged out of their sockets, and blood still dripping from the snapped jaw of the wife. The last head was of a teenager, a boy just about Ryan’s age, his skull was showing as a result of his head being lit on fire. One half of his face was intact as the other half revealed part of his skull.

“Oh my…” I bent over and vomited on the ground. I quickly wiped my mouth while Ryan had just kept looking at the young man’s head still burning endlessly upon that pole. Why didn’t he just die? Why couldn’t he just go away forever? Ryan’s innocence is now destroyed and lost in the fire before us; he sure as hell didn’t need to see this, not today.

“I should have killed him.” he whispers. “I should have fucking killed him…” He turns at me and as I get back up and look into his eyes, they were full of hatred, fear, and pain.” They’re dead because of me!” he gestures at the scene before us, I just stood and look at him, and I can’t help but thinking: was I really the blame for this? Should I have let Ryan kill him while he had the chance? “Now son-” I start just as I’m interrupted by Ryan.

“No dad, it’s my fault and we are going to fix it!” He exclaims. Parts of the house collapse in as fire fighters are hosing down the building. “You and me dad, we are going to track him down, and then…” He pauses and looks and the still crackling flames. His face grows red with anger and sweat pours from his forehead. “… We will kill him.” He tells me slowly as he turns around and walks to the car; but I’m afraid I can’t let him do this. That boy’s impaled head had proven to me that I can’t risk Ryan’s life to find this bastard, it’s too dangerous. I could never live with myself if Ryan would suffer the same fate.” No Ryan, we can’t. I’m sorry “He halts in his tracks and looks to me furiously as I apologize.”I knew it!” He sarcastically chuckles and his expression turns dark once more.

“I knew this whole, ‘I trust you’ shit wasn’t going to last! Well thank you, dad, for the false hope!” He frowns at me and looks at the fire. “Son it’s too dangerous, that boy right there could be you!” I exclaim. “Maybe so, but I’m not going to sit back and watch this madman kill like this!” He shouts and storms off into the car behind the crowd of cop cars. I sigh heavily and slowly walk back to the car.

As I pulled into the driveway, I can’t help but think that Ryan may be right. I mean Ryan had the chance; the pole was in his hand. He literally had the upper hand. And I had to let my morality get in the way. I don’t know why but something in the back of my mind keeps telling me I was right to stop Ryan from killing this man. Either way, Ryan wants revenge or at least he wanted to avenge for these people that this freak had murdered, and I had denied him of that.  I pull in next to my son’s car at the driveway and proceed out of the car. I retrieve the evidence box in the back seat. Afterwards, I head for the front door of the house when Ryan gets out of the car and slams the door behind him. He walks frustratingly to the door at a much faster pace than me. I look up at him then look down as I sigh in frustration. Then I look at the evidence box, there was a note on top of the box taped onto it. Was this there before? I stare at it with caution, I wanted to ask Ryan if he saw this note here before, but he was in the front seat with me and the box was in the back; isolated behind Ryan’s seat.

The handwriting was sloppy and the note was stained with spots of red. I wasn’t sure what the red stains were but I had a pretty good idea as to who it’s from. Why is he doing this? What can he possibly want from me?

I then walk inside my house and place the box on the coffee table and toss my keys on the sofa across from the table. I sit down on the sofa and rest my head on the pleather couch. As I lay my head, I hear Ryan stomping his way down stairs, I then realize he can’t see this, not on top of the box, if he sees this note he will be even angrier with me for even having a connection with the killer. I quickly take the note, fold it in half and put it inside my jacket pocket.

 

“Ok let’s see the evidence.” Ryan demanded from behind me as he plops next to me and takes the lid off the evidence box and started slowly picking out items of evidence in plastic bags which are labeled and sealed. He had the decency to handle them with latex gloves on. After He pulled out the first couple items he pulled out a small plastic sheet in his pocket and lays it flat on the table and slowly pulls the small shreds out the box and lays them down upon the plastic covering.

“Excuse me?” I ask as I look at every move he makes. He stares down and looks to his right, at me. “We need to find this guy and if any of this stuff can help us then I’m not wasting another second. We will find him.” He explains. His tone was dark and sincere. “I thought I told you we are not doing this anymore, alright? Even if B.I.K’s alive and active doesn’t mean we can go hunting for him!” I demand. “Look dad… If we find him we find your Brother.” He tells me trying to reach some angle of persuasion.                                        “What are you implying?” I ask as anger fills up in my voice. “I’m saying maybe B.I.K knows about your brother. Maybe, just maybe, he killed him and no one knows what happened to him because he was dead before they even so much as heard a word from him.” He gestures as if to talk with his hands and then pauses to hear my reply, which I did not give. He scoffs and shakes his head and returns to examining the evidence. “Whatever Dad, I’ll just do this on my own.” I didn’t so much as spoke a word to him. He crossed the biggest line of all and I was so angry that speaking to him will just result to more yelling, I sigh and get up from the couch. Ryan moves over to occupy the space I used to sit in on the couch, and completely ignores my anger and focuses on the evidence. I swear sometimes this kid gets on my nerves.

I then walk to the fridge, grab a beer, and walk up stairs to my room. I plop onto my bed in my room and then I slowly sit up and pull out the blood stained note with my left hand as I held the beer in my right. I leaned at the edge of the right side of my bed and I take a sip of the beer and started to read the note from my ‘secret admirer’. I started to read: “DEAR DETECTIVE…” it read,

“I HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOU AND YOUR SON…” I suddenly had a chill down my spine.

”YOU WILL NOW CEASE ANY AND ALL ACTIVITY, RELATED TO CAPTURING AND OR KILLING ME; THAT OF WHICH I FIND TO BE IMPOSSIBLE. BUT IF YOU DO NOT COME TO TERMS WITH WHAT I DEMANDED, I WILL KILL YOU AND THAT STUPID HALF WITTED SON OF YOURS.”. A flash of anger filled my eyes as I read on,

“NOT ONLY WILL I KILL YOU TWO, BUT I SHALL MAKE EXAMPLES OF YOU. I WONT JUST IMPALE YOUR HEADS AND BURN THE BODIES, I WILL BATHE IN YOU AND YOUR SON’S BLOOD.’

With every word, my stomach grew weaker and every sip of beer made me more intoxicated and unmanageable. I was beginning to mumble to myself. I read on.

“YOU WILL REGRET THE DAY YOU SPARED ME AT THE STATION! YOU WILL REGRET EVER KNOWING WHO I AM, SO TO SPARE YOU THE PAIN OF ALL I HAVE JUST EXPLAINED, QUIT WHILE YOU’RE AHEAD! SIGNED BIK. P.S. IT’S BEST WE KEEP THIS NOTE AWAY FROM MY NEPHEW; SEE YOU SOON BROTHER…”

Oh My God…

Burnt Chapter 3: Burnt Iron Killer (Insanity Within)

Okay, here we go chapter three, if you didn’t read 1 and 2 i suggest you do so otherwise none of this would make sense. WARNING LONG POST AHEAD! 

CHAP- 1: https://oc950.wordpress.com/2016/07/02/burnt-chronicles-chapter-1-foreword-from-the-author/

CHAP -2 : https://oc950.wordpress.com/2016/07/09/burnt-chronicles-chapter-2-ryan-mccalister-trust-issues/

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CHAPTER 3 (BURNT IRON KILLER) the Insanity Within

 

Pain, Anger, failure, hatred; these have never been a good combination of feelings and they have never been more earth-shatteringly real as they were now. I lay there under the burnt debris of the station. My wound in my back has been healed surprisingly fast and I groan loudly. That punk-ass kid, how the hell did he take me down? I swear I will make that little fucker choke on his own blood and snap his neck like a toothpick, fuck my M.O. this bustard was going to get mangled to death.

I got up slowly from piles of debris that were on top of me. I got up and looked around to see the building burnt to a crisp and covered in the depressing darkness of which I created.

I quickly make my getaway, as I get up from my shameful yet temporary defeat; I quickly make a dash to the pipe room, where I entered the building through a man hole. Traveling through the sewers wasn’t the best way of travel but it was something.

Once I reach the pipe room through piles of ash and burnt drywall; I rummaged through the debris blocking the pipe room door and remove it quickly, this place was about to collapse, if I stay any longer, I will be buried with this building and it’s officers. I quickly run down the staircase, past the doorway, leading to the pipe room. I didn’t have time to think, or pause and react to such embarrassment.

But I’m a serial killer for God’s sake!! I can’t be taken down by just some kid? I slaughter children I don’t give them a free shots at me. I splatter their fucking brains on the wall! What the fuck!? As I reach the manhole, I lift up the 500-pound lid with no sweat, and quickly jump down splashing into the grotesque sewers. The smell is foul, and the water was shallow. I ran straight ahead for I knew these tunnels by heart. This was the last place I would hide out at and was only 4 miles from my original hide out; so it was easy to stage an attack.

The station has some well collected evidence of what I have left behind. Since my last killings, I’ve gotten sloppy. I realized that I left a finger print on the bottle I lodged inside that man’s neck.I guess you could say I was losing my edge. Too bad I had to cut off that guy’s head to leave a message. Poor bastard- wait, Why am I feeling sorry? This is not me.

‘We must be careful now’. A voice had called from somewhere. I stopped in my path as I was walking through the tunnels. I looked around, to see if someone was behind me. Was I being followed?

‘No, you’re just having a moment of insanity, its ok-‘ I look around once more only in front of me. Where was that coming from? ‘You know, damn well where that’s coming from. It’s me inside your head’ A voice says from within my head and I groan and realized who was really there.

“Not you again” I replied to the voice sounding similar to mine. ‘Yes it is me again, how are things my friend?’

“What happened to letting me do all the work?” I asked aloud. My voice was deep but quite. ‘After that embarrassing downfall of yours, no way in hell; your ass just got handed to by a fucking teenager!’     The voice mocked me, I quickly became angry. I wanted to bash my head against the wall to get rid of this stupid voice. He’s been letting me handle the dirty work since day one and I was doing a pretty damn good job.

‘Oh last I checked, you’re doing a horrible job! You blew up a police station just to get rid of a fucking print?’ He questioned with criticism. “Why the hell, does it matter? I burned the evidence room didn’t I?” I argue back. ‘You handled the problem wrongly, and now you have given away your appearance! The kid knows what you look like! You need to lead McCalister to you.’; “Why, why would we want him close?” There were secrets that he kept from me for some odd reason he wanted the Detective to find us. ‘He needs to find us! Trust me, you will find out soon enough.’

I soon got out of those tunnels and was somewhat close to my hideout; I made an exit through a manhole on some abandoned street. The journey continues as I trek on to the woods near the mountains. The woods were safe place for me to hide; the dark trees surrounding a small cabin have been my home for two years. I have lived and survived off of deer meat and random animals I capture with my hunting knife. The blood from the fresh meat I hunted down was saved for me to bath in.

Many would say I was sick. I just simply shrug it off as a fetish. They don’t understand how it feels, to be soaked in the warm, red liquid. Oh my God, how I wish I was doing this as of now.

‘Well now is your chance look ahead.’ My voice alerts me. I stop to look up to see a doe behind the trees of the mountain area I have been traveling in. How did I get here so fast? ‘Time flies by when you think a lot.’; “True, now what” I ask.

‘Now you take out your pole and chuck at it!’

I look down at the pole I have been carrying. Have I had this the whole time? ‘You were, and you didn’t know because I made you do it.’ The voice had said humorously. Suddenly out of my control, I take my pole with sharpened tips and throw it at the doe who didn’t even notice my presence until the spear-like metal have pierced its body. The cries of the doe were loud and painful. Had I done that? ‘No, well yes, but it was more me than you.’ He explained. “What the fuck was that you haven’t been able to do that before!?” I was freaking out till he answered me. ‘Relax I have always been able to do that.’ His voice was the definition of creepy-as-fuck.

“Why?” I spoke aloud to the voice within my head. I’m not one to question my own actions, but when the actions are forced upon me to make them, then that’s when I worry.

‘Because I was getting impatient and you were being a little bitch about it. Plus you think too much.’, “No, I control you not the other way around! I make my own decision!” I respond roughly and walk to my freshly caught meal. But before I could make one more move, I freeze and I lose control once more as my hand reaches for a blade in my shoe that I forgot I have left there.

My hand holds the blade sideways to my neck and my knees quickly become weak and I kneel down with the knife still pressed against my throat.

‘Now that I have your attention, let me explain a few things to you.’ The voice had spoken with a higher command and had full possession of me. He held the knife to my throat with my own hand. I fought to control it, but that just pissed him off even more. I couldn’t get out of this one; what the fuck was this?

‘Now look here, you sick, twisted, little bitch you!’ He said humorously. ‘I own you now, got it? If you so much as even question my authority, you’ll find yourself in a hole so deep, you won’t know which way is up! I’m In Control, not the other way around.’ He commented sinisterly.

He threatens me as he kept me stuck in this position. Oh, how I wanted to get out; how did I get like this? ‘The day you slaughtered those innocent fucks, was the day you met me-‘he answered abruptly to my personal thought. ‘-Now thanks to your idiotic decision, you’re my bitch! So shut the fuck up, get that deer, and go home.’ He commanded then he lets go of my hand and my body is my own once again; oh thank God. I have never been so scared before. Let alone scared of my own self. I shiver and start to get up and immediately pull my knife away from my neck. I put the knife into my holster attached to my ankle near my shoe.

I then proceed to walk over to the doe I had just killed and take my pole out from its dying body.

The iron bar was covered in blood. I study the thing for a minute and I couldn’t hold back much longer. I then start to lick the blood off from my weapon. Oh God that was so good, I grinned with excitement. This not only tasted good, but turned me on. The liquid was warm and it felt good. After I licked the blood clean off, I wacked the doe upon its head to make sure it was dead. The loud crunch of the doe’s skull caving in had filled the air and I enjoyed it.

No reaction, okay let’s go home. I grinned, with the weapon in my left hand and left over blood on my right, I grab the doe by the neck and drag it to my home.

Today was almost the shittiest day of my life: I got beaten up by a teenager almost got killed, and I had just found out that my inner insanity is a fucking monster. This day couldn’t get any worse.

At least I got some fresh meat out of it.

*

The next morning, I awoke on my rotted mattress on the floor of my cabin. It was a particularly small space with little space to move around and was cramped even if there was only very little furniture.

I lay here in the middle of the cabin with only the sunlight draining into the dark room from the window behind my bed. The cabin was dark, cold, and rotting from within its walls. To my left at the far corner from where I lay was my dresser containing some spare cloths and most of my weapons and sharpened poles. I would always be set for life with poles because I got them from an old abandoned steel mill that was not even two miles out from here.

I pan around the dark room and look to my left to see almost my entire wall covered in small news articles and scraps about my past killings that were nailed to the wall with thumbtacks.

Some of the clipping had read: ‘The Burnt Iron Killer, Struck again!’, or ‘Family falls victim to, the Infamous, Burnt Iron Killer!’ I was flattered; the name was pretty lengthy, but I took accustomed to it. What pissed me off is when the news people started calling me B.I.K.; fuckin pricks… As if you’re going to run out of ink by writing my whole name! As you can see I was very prideful of my work and I would love to go down as the most infamous serial killer ever to walk the earth.

I mean, I love making news, but not when my name is shortened by a few letters just to save some ink.

‘Get the hell over it! At least they said you were Infamous!’ My inner insanity is awake again… shit.

“And I was doing a damn good job at it too. Why not let me take charge instead of you?” I questioned the voice from within.

‘Did we not just talk about this? You’re my bitch and you do what I say, when I say it! Got it?’ My voice threatened; why can’t I just, yank this bastard out of my head? ‘Because I’m not removable, bitch.’ Fine, I sighed and got up from my bed. I swear being this guy’s slave is gonna be the death of me.

It was daylight now, so I couldn’t do much. As a serial killer, I must avoid any and all human interaction. I have to be hidden, not social. It makes it easier to vet potential victims; plus it would be quite odd if I made friends with my next victim.

‘Wait-‘ my inner voice paused at my remark of sarcasm. “What now?” I groaned as I stood up from next to my weapons drawer and equip myself for my hunt for food. I was going out to hunt more, but my other half had something to say. ‘Damn right I have something to say!’ He replied, ‘What if you did make friends with your next victim?’ My eyebrows scrunched inward and I stare at the wall ahead of me in disbelief.

I was shocked at my darker side; how the hell was I going to pull that off?

“That’s ridiculous.” I respond.

I scoff and walk out the front door of my cabin and put on my hood from my leather jacket. The sunlight shined behind the trees that darkened my surroundings, this eventually helped keep me hidden.

I had a knife holstered to my belt and held my spear-like iron bar, in my left hand. ‘What do most serial killers have in common?’ My inner voice had asked. I walk further uphill from the downward grade that my cabin was built upon. I was headed into some heavily wooded area because that’s where most of the small animals were. A dark place to hunt is what I require, so what better place than deep in the woods of Mount Lemmon?

“A sick obsession for blood?” I answered my voice quietly; I was shocked at my answer though. I never have called my obsession sick; I was always so proud of it… what’s wrong with me? ‘No; the ability to blend in.’ he replied, I laughed at my darker side’s accusation; it was such a mocking laugh, in fact I can even feel my inner voice become irritated.

“I’m sorry, but in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t ‘blend-in’.” I replied jokingly while making quotations with my fingers.

‘Laugh it up puppet, but I’m telling you, the best place to hide is in plain sight.’ I was intrigued and convinced. This could work; I stop in my tracks and start to pull out my knife and prepare to throw it at a rabbit nearby a tree nibbling a berry from a bush somewhere nearby.

“So how is this going to work; who do I make friends with?” I quickly toss the knife into the rabbit. It twitches its ear before It could react; rabbits are quick, but I’m quicker. The blood quickly flowed from the soulless body of the now dead animal. ‘We find a neighborhood first;  second, we find a house with less than 3 people and they have to be anti-social so nobody will miss them.’; “Ok good, continue” I keep listening as I gut the rabbit and place it’s intestines in a pouch I keep for myself. ‘- Then we use whatever is available to us for a little while, stay hidden then just keep living there. After that, slowly move your operation from the cabin into the attic of the house.’; “Smart, Ok I’m in… when do we start?” I start to walk back to the cabin as I hear birds chirping overhead and within the trees.

‘Now, you start now.’ He demanded.

 

ONE MONTH LATER…

 

After a months’ worth of studying, I have finally found the perfect ‘home’.  It is the HQ of my operations and the workplace of my fractured mind. I have found a husband and a wife that have just moved into the neighborhood. They were Peter and Gloria Davis. No kids, barely unpacked, and very anti-social… perfect. This is going to go off very easily.

It was night-time and it was 1:00am; everyone is either asleep or at work. Best thing about this place is they have no burglar alarm so I don’t have to ditch this place if I kill them immediately. I have been stalking them for weeks and it has only become more and more interesting as I learn more about them. They were very compatible with each other, and enjoyed much of the same things that I do.

They like hunting in the mountain, I like hunting in the mountain. They enjoy blood and gore, I enjoy blood and gore (not in the same way as me though). They hate being social, and so do I but I’m not social anyways. It is very strange how one couple can have all the makings of a serial killer but not become serial killers themselves.

I somehow manage to catch them having sex from time to time. I guess you could call that my late-night entertainment.

They argue as any couple would and they would throw the occasional wine bottle at each other. But they would cry it out and become a couple again. It made me feel tingly inside to see such displays of affection. I think I have felt that way once. Before all the madness, before all the blood, I was normal. I had a wife a kid maybe. I don’t even know, but sometimes I wish I didn’t kill. The headlines on the local newsstands were flattering, but I would rather be known for some different line of work.

‘HELLO! EARTH TO B.I.-FUCKING -K! You’re a serial killer, not a family man you sentimental freak!’ My inner voice destroys my train of thought and I was shocked at my own thoughts, how could I think that way?! What the hell?

“Sorry” I whispered to my voice from in a tree near the Davis’ house. ‘Stick to the plan now gently get down and walk through the front door.’ He commanded.

I slowly start to climb down the tree; it was as tall as the Davis house across the street.

I’ve been watching them from a distance, but it wasn’t much of a distance.

As I make my way over there I made sure no one was watching as I hid behind a bush before crossing the street. The long line of houses was dark and completely silent. The night alone, had made no sound. All I heard was the wind whistle into the cold night. I then quickly cross the street and approach the two-story, faded-blue house. The porch was a set of steps that led up to an awning and a narrow white door. I then stop at the door and kneel down to pick the lock. It took a mere twenty seconds to pick the lock with nothing but a bobby pin and a small knife. The door was open and my new house was waiting for me.

I slowly walk inside and left the door open. It’s quiet and dark. To my right was a spiral staircase, and to my left, just across from me, was a hallway leading to what seems to be the kitchen. The house had a wood paneled floor and had little to no furniture. At my far right, past the staircase was an open arch way, which led to few of the bedrooms. One of the three bedrooms was occupied by belongings and personal furniture for the couple’s room.

There are numerous boxes piled everywhere. They have obviously just started unpacking before I got here. There were scattered pieces of furniture everywhere along with scattered packaging peanuts.

‘These people are disorganized as hell!’ I thought to myself. ‘Well what do you expect? They just moved in.’; my inner voice had responded. ‘Point taken’ I had commented. ‘Ok let’s find these two idiots and get this started, the quicker the better, we don’t want to wake them.’

I walk toward the staircase and then stop to realize that I forgot to close the door, I look behind me to see the door wide open, letting the moonlight get inside. I put my knife back in my holster, and walk toward the door. I quickly close it, and was surprised to find Peter Davis holding a tire iron, He swings the weapon at my face , hoping to have struck me but I duck in time for him to miss. He quickly retracts and I stand up then reach for my knife. Before I could do that, I hear a woman’s voice from behind me.

“Heads up!” She called to me as I turned around to see Gloria Davis with a baseball bat.

Before I could react with my pole holstered on my back, she slams the bat so hard to my head, that I could hear ringing from inside my head. My inner voice tries frustratingly to contact me, but he never spoke. I blacked out and fell to the floor.

Within seconds I am greeted by my inner voice. ‘Well, well, well.’ My inner voice started at me. All I see is darkness and all I can remember was getting my ass handed to me once more. ‘You royally fucked up this time; you underestimated your victim.’ He lectured. ‘Now tell me, do you think you’re immortal?’ He asks. ‘No, I don’t think I’m immortal.’ I respond gruffly in my head with everything still drenched in darkness. Everything was black and in my mind, was so cold. Why does this bother me now?

‘Are you Jason? Are you Freddy Krueger? Are you Hell raiser?’; ‘No…’ I respond before he could name anymore horror movie characters. God! He thinks he is making a point with these fictional horror characters but honestly he is just being a prick.

‘Then why do you think nothing can hurt you? After that little run with that kid, you should know by now that you are weak. Your best defense is stealth, and cleverness. Something you lack!’ He lectured more.

‘Well what do you want me to do; these guys have done their fair share of studying. They know who they are dealing with.’ I explain back at him.

‘NO! THEY DONT KNOW WHO THEY ARE FUCKING WITH! THE NEWS THINKS YOU’RE DEAD BECAUSE OF THAT DAMN FIRE, AND BECAUSE OF MCCALLISTER!’ he emphasized on McCalister.

‘That stupid son of a bitch; He made you look like a fool!’ He sated within my head. Sure enough I began to feel anger dwell within me.

‘He said in the news, and I quote: “My son rescued me from the blaze, the Burnt Iron killer set the bomb and detonated it. But if it wasn’t for my son’s heroic actions in defeating the killer, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”; You know what that says about you?’ he asks me.

I stop to think about this McCalister, the name sounds familiar. But he had a point, ‘It says that I’m no good.’ My voice was slow and unconfident, I felt like a failure. ‘You’re weak…’ My inner voice tells me; I quickly feel anger rush through my mind, ‘No’ I respond abruptly

‘You’re spineless!’ He shouts at me in almost pure definite hatred. I could slowly feel his anger become my own. ‘No’ I almost shout. I groan and yell within my head for a brief moment.

‘You’re a fool!’ My mind became filled with fire surrounding a figure within the flames.

‘No!’ The figure grew into a giant monster, with bat wings and rams horns almost as if it were the devil himself.

My inner thoughts became louder and louder, my brain pulsated with anger as the fire suddenly became very real to my brain and everything around me was starting to become a near imitation of hell itself.

‘YOU’RE NOT A KILLER…’ My inner voice raged on and the flames had burned deep within my brain almost melting my insides. ‘NO!’

My thoughts grew much louder and angrier. ‘YOU’RE NOTHING! ‘He had shouted. “NO!” I had woken up with my brain half burnt and my thoughts become spoken word.

I screamed aloud, the sound was so deep that it almost sounded like I was letting out a loud roar, what was happening? A raging headache took place of the burning sensation within my head and I wake up tied to a chair in what appears to be a kitchen; I must still be in the house. Good… time for some pay back!

I looked around and only one head lamp was directed at me and everything else was dark. I hear footsteps approaching,” Honey, he’s awake!” A woman shouts, she was close by me, and had the most feminine voice I have ever heard.

“Is everything all set baby?” He shouts from upstairs muffled in excitement. “All set!” She says as she flicks the lights back on; the light was blinding and my eyes were just starting to adjust from that damn headache, however they adjusted quickly, and I see everything.

Apparently my study of the Davis’s was a bit misleading. You see, the Davises were into more than just horror movies, they were into the grotesque art of my work. The walls of the kitchen had the same headlines that were on my wall back at the Cabin. All were flattering yet very creepy.

I look ahead to see an arch way with one, Gloria Davis, in a skin-tight leather suit. She was short, thin, and had long brown hair. She was grinning at me and leaning against the archway with her left hip. I look down to see, a pentagram drawn out with sand and surrounded by 5 candles at each point of the star. Oh I forgot to mention they practiced voodoo and the art of Satanism, so yeah I have been captured by some demon worshiping cult with an obsession for me… lovely.

‘Looks like you have fans’; my inner voice spoke sarcastically. My anger died down but my urge to kill was still very much alive.

I groan, and quickly grab my knife from my holster in my back pocket, and begin cutting the rope that tied me down, wait a minute? I look down at myself and realize I have been tied down with chains and my legs were grouped together with duct tape. “You didn’t think it would be that easy did you?” Gloria had asked looking down at me, she smiled and sighed.

“No, honestly this was not expected.” I humor her. I realized that my hood wasn’t down, oh shit! They see me? My eyes widen in terror and I just stare at her. I will admit she was very attractive but her beauty was the least of my worries.

“Well we kind of saw you vetting us, so we put on a good show for you. All the late night sex sessions and the fake arguments were just half of it.” She says sliding her hand down her thigh as an attempt to be seductive with me. What the hell?

“And all those temper tantrums and dramas that we put on for you were just a bonus, we figured we would give our stalker a show.” A male voice came from the dark arch way and he came into the kitchen. My expression was confused. Peter came out of the archway dressed in ritualistic robes and wearing a necklace with a silver pentagram pendant.

“Welcome to Hell.” He gestured at his surroundings with both hands. “What you didn’t think you had fans?” He told me. “Mr.Burnt-Iron-Killer? Or should I say…Mr. McCalister?” He smiled as he said the name with his head cocked at me and his wife giggling in the archway. McCalister? I am NOT McCalister; they must have me confused.

“What are you two talking about? And what are you trying to do to me?”; “Isn’t it obvious?” He asks.

“We are going to reveal the demon that resides within you.” She giggles and walks next to her husband. What? I have no demon; what the fuck are they talking about? “I don’t have time for this!” I shout. “Now fucking let me go… now!”  I growled at them as they backed up slowly, fear slowly takes over their expressions and dwells deep within their widened eyes, filled with horror. My voice had morphed with another as I said ‘now’. What was wrong with me? ‘Just let me handle this’ my inner voice suggested. So much like before I had calmed myself down only to release the beast from within, known only as my dark side.

Soon my body wasn’t my own anymore. “You pathetic fool! You dare tie down your superior!?” The words were flowing but they were not my own. My voice was demonically warped. What am I? “We are sorry we didn’t know!” They both panicked and Peter was shaking as was his wife. He quickly takes out a key and unlocks the chains holding me down by a singular lock on my chest; the chains had fallen off and had met the floor below me. My body had gotten up and somehow the tape around my legs had burned off. But this wasn’t me; how can this happen?

Peter and Gloria started to bow down to my now possessed body. “Oh, mighty Abragor, we are truly sorry!” They apologized in unison. I keep thinking to myself: ‘Who is Abragor? And how come they thought I was he?

“You must be punished!” My voice had shouted in anger.” Bring forth my weapon!” I commanded at Gloria. She quickly stands up and walks out only to quickly walk back in with my pole in both of her hands “Yes my master ” she kneels and hands the weapon to me. They both kneel still and squint awaiting me to kill them. My body is released from my dark demonic grip. ‘Don’t fuck this up, now is your chance to prove yourself worthy.’ My voice had told me. I had no intention of becoming some sort of demon, in fact I didn’t know there was one within me. I guess this is what I have become. I looked to the weapon in my hands and then look at the couple still withholding my enraged look. This is what I am and this is what I have become, I guess there is no fighting it now.

I yell as I plunge the pole into Peter’s skull, the squishing of his brains made me shudder in excitement, I was smiling again, oh the joy of hearing his brains splatter upon the floor. This was the part I enjoyed the most. I repeatedly stab and slaughtered his body; blood stained his robes, and soon blood covered the wooden paneled floor. Gloria looked to her husband with terror in her eyes. She looks up at me and slowly I look to her with my disturbingly large grin. Tears run down her eyes as she is unable to speak or let alone scream in terror.

She could have been a great partner but, her husband made her death wish for her. I pick her up by her neck then grab my pole out from Peter’s skull and slowly begin to plunge my pole into her stomach. Her hands hold my one arm that is wrapped around her tiny neck. She screams in pain as I slowly ensnare her with death as it is now pressing into her gut.

“Why…” She says weakly with my pole slowly cutting through her body. “Because, I am the devil.” I reply with a cackle. Blood is now pouring down the pole, into my hand. The wooden floor becomes stained in blood and the red liquid slowly hits the floor as I continue to make her death as slow and as painful as possible. Oh god this felt good!

I begin to hurry and slice it through her body; the pole comes out through her back, and tears the flesh and slashes past the spinal cord in her body. I quickly retract and drop her ass, her body thuds on the wooden floor and her screaming is halted.

Blood pours from her mouth as she moans on the kitchen floor holding her stomach.  I walk to the living room and step over the carnage to walk into the living room. I turn around and find her still coughing and only partially alive. “Hey!” I call to her now angry at her resistance; as her eyes role up to look at me she sobs and reaches her hand out to me, now stained in blood. “Please!” She cries to me. “I’m pregnant!” she says with a twisted whisper.

My eyes widen in panic. What? No, I couldn’t have, I mean it could be possible; she did have sex within the last month. Oh shit, the reality of my killing spree now hits me.

Oh my God! I swear I was going to be sick but I choked down my gut retching feeling. I can’t believe it; I had just killed a woman and her unborn child.

I return from my shocked feeling and just stare at her and realized that this is what I was supposed to do; I can’t shed a tear for every fucker who stands in my way… whether they were unborn or not. “Welcome to Hell…” I reply. She screams and without a second to lose I jab my pole directly into her brain.

‘Well done’

I smiled at the approval I had received from my inner insanity, but I frowned once more at the carnage of a once future-mother that lay upon the floor. I shouldn’t care; after all I’m a serial killer…

Right?

Don’t Turn Around…

There is a reason that in horror movies, you are told not to turn around when you know for certain that whatever was after you will most likely kill you; could you face your possible death? Of course you couldn’t, no one can. I mean who would want to look death in the eye and watch as he erases your existence from humanity.
This almost happened to me…

One night I was at my apartment while my fiancé was at her mother’s house dog sitting while she was in Boston for a few weeks. I never enjoyed staying away from her since I love her and if she is away from me I feel weird, It is as if there’s a half of me that is gone somewhere and I am unable to retrieve that other half. Anyway, I am sitting on the couch writing my book. I was proud of myself since I was almost finished with it. Of course after I finished the first draft I have a lot of editing to do but never the less I was happy.

After I had finished my work on chapter 16 I set my computer down, shut it off and had some dinner, which for me, was a hot pocket and a can of Cola. I got up from the living room couch and headed toward the kitchen and opened the freezer to fish out a hot pocket. Usually I wasn’t used to making stuff like this for dinner since my fiancé would usually be the one making meals like any normal person would, but I was lonely and I didn’t want to spend all my night cooking something I would just eventually put into a bunch of Tupperware for leftovers. I threw in the hot pocket and waited for it to fully heat up. That’s when I heard it.

A loud thump mixed with the sound of my cat screeching from my bedroom was easily heard from the kitchen; I turned to face the hallway where the bedroom was. You could easily look into the bedroom form the kitchen seeing as the door was angled to face the kitchen next to the small closet that contained a laundry room across from that was the bathroom in one small hallway. I didn’t know what to do. Tabs wouldn’t make that sound unless something scared the living shit out of him. I am a firm believer in the paranormal and for something like this to happen, my cat being scared of something made me think the worst. I grab the kitchen knife from the drawer and arm myself. The microwave continues on in the background as I slowly start to walk to the bedroom. My heart beats faster and faster as I approach the bedroom door; the hairs in the back of my neck were standing at this point. “Tabs? You okay buddy?” I say aloud but I get no animal response from him, I didn’t expect him to start talking I just wanted some reassurance that he was ok, like a meow or something. But nothing, he didn’t even hiss like he usually does when he is afraid. I draw closer to the bedroom door gripping the handle of the knife in my sweaty palm. I glance over at the clock on the wall and saw that it was 4am and I was way too tired for this shit. I couldn’t take the suspense anymore so I rush to the door and open it while immediately flipping the light switch.

Nothing, there was absolutely nothing and no one in this room. Not even my Cat was in here. He is hard to miss, after all he is an orange tabby cat and he had a weight problem so it was shard to miss that fat fuzz ball. “Hello?” I say aloud hoping to hear something in response but at the same time I wish to not hear anything from anyone unless it was my cat. I turn off the light and leave the door open as I continue down to the bathroom to see if Tabs has been hiding in the bath tub like he always does.

I open the bathroom door still wielding the knife and I turn on the light. Everything was normal, the toilet seat was down and all the bathroom stuff was on the counter where the sink was. I look around and notice something abnormal, the shower curtains were drawn when I had originally left them open so I can see the tub. I never liked them like that because then I would become scared and start imagining things behind the curtains themselves. I watch one to many horror movies to know that there is always something evil behind the curtains. I didn’t leave them drawn and Tabs couldn’t do this without help; suddenly I started to shiver, it was a dark, painful shiver. The kind of rush of cold you get when you know something bad is about to happen. My hands begin to shake as I reach for the curtains. I grip the edge of the curtain tightly and pulled back as fast as I could.

What I saw next, could only be described as heart retching, unholy, and evil. On the bathroom wall, written in blood was the following:

Don’t turn around…

Below that was a sick looking smiley face with fangs and human handprints that were drenched in blood. I froze in horror as I stared on at the rest of the tub which had small spots of blood here and there. Then I just continually stared on at the writing not able to look at anything else, and what happens if I turned around I thought. Obviously the answer was right in front of my face, written in blood. But I wasn’t sure. I haven’t been in the bathroom since I got home, which means something was here before me. But how could that be? I was the only one with a key to the house and my fiancé has been at her mom’s house since yesterday.

I then hear a slithering sound mixed with the sounds of tearing flesh and liquid hitting the floor loudly. I froze still and the knife was now loose in my palm. “Who is it?” I ask and all I hear is the sound of grunting and heavy breathing right into my ear. I dare not look in the mirror which was currently in my peripheral vision, yet I dare not look at who was breathing down my neck. I drop the knife out of pure fear as this thing breathes its hot breath down my goose bump-riddled neck. “Don’t turn around-“ a cold sickening deep voice whispers this into my left ear. I tried my hardest not to look at this thing. In the edges of my vision I can only see a tall dark figure, but none of the details are shown, I dare not study this image further as I began to cry. “What are you?” I manage to whisper as I sob quietly. He simply replied, “I am the devil.” I close my eyes tightly and sib quietly while I whisper a repeated prayer under my breath. I have never been so scared in my whole life. I was so hopeless, I really did believe this thing was the devil and I was beyond fucked.

But as I said a prayer and upon saying amen, I opened my eyes and the presence of the devil was gone. I looked up at the bathroom and the writing was gone and so was this dark feeling of fear that seemed to surround him like a powerful odor. I sighed in relief and even laughed. “It was just a hallucination, I must be really tired.” I cackled even as I stared at the porcelain shower wall that was now clear of blood and that dreadful writing. I sighed once more and looked at the mirror as it caught a glimpse of the hallway. Once again, I am terrified. The closet doors leading into the laundry room was splattered in dark red liquid, it was blood, I could just tell that that was what it was, I look further down the mirror for it to reveal what I had only wished was a dream. My cat was in a pool of his own blood. His body was gutted and sliced open like a fish and his insides were spread across the hall and into the bathroom. I began to sob at the sight of my beloved pet, dead and brutally mutilated. I am viewing this through the mirror and I just wish that this was all a dream. I turn around to see if this was reality, only to be met with the dark figure again. The lights went out and I see him… dear God, what is this thing!?

I blackout and I hear only these three words repeated in my head on a never-ending loop: “Don’t turn around…” it was in the same disgusting voice that the devil spoke to me and I just couldn’t take it. It was like free falling into a dark pit of evil that swallowed you whole the moment all light abandons your sight.

I wake up the way I am now. I feel depressed, hurt, and lonely. I just don’t know what to do now. I haven’t eaten or written anything in days, my fiancé is still at her mom’s and she is supposed to be back home tomorrow- it doesn’t make me feel any better. She may be the other half of me but I feel like my own half has been torn out of me… by him.

What did he take? My soul… that’s what he took. At least Tab’s is alive- he’s probably shitting on the carpet since I hadn’t bothered to take care of him in a while. Oh well, my point is- if you are visited by him, and a writing on the wall tells you not to turn around, then don’t. He will be there, waiting for you, and just when you think he is gone, don’t turn around. Just don’t.

Goodbye….

---

Hey guys hope you liked my short story, based on actual events. Yes I am home alone while my fiance dog sits for my future mother in law. Yes this writing was on my wall only to have it be a prank from her best friend who knows I love horror and I am sacred by this kind if shit. No I was not attacked by the devil and my cat is safe and sound.

Hope you guys got a good scare out of it. Have a good night, I’m going to bed… Goodnight. The photo shown is the prank that was pulled on me. creepy as fuck huh?

Sincerely,

Hells Reject 🙂

Haunted (Original short story by Ryan Stratford and Orlando Chacon)

Leah looked out to her window from her bedside in her bedroom. From the twentieth floor apartment she can see half of New York through that small narrow window.
The city is beautiful around this time; pigeons fly by in flocks of eight or ten and fly right past the mirror-like windows of skyscrapers reflecting the sunrise in bright flashes of light, brightening the darkness of the faded white walled apartment bedroom. She sighed.
“Damn, that is bright.” She says as her body faces the light at full blast. She holds her hand over her eyes to avoid looking into the bright light.
“Yeah, it is.” A male voice said from behind her as she lay still on the bed. She shifts her body to look at the man in her bed. “Why, hello John.” She says smiling as she leans in for a kiss from John. He leans in and extends his neck to her head coming closer for the kiss. They almost kiss but sadly she just phases through him. “Shit.” John says and exhales in frustration as he pulls back and rests his head. The coldness of the pillow is the only thing that touches Leah’s lips.
“How come you can’t kiss me now? You did so well at controlling it last night.” She asks a little disappointed. “Because it’s like over-exertion for ghosts, I can only focus all my energy on one thing for so long- then I’ve got to recharge.” He explains as he sighs softly. “I hate being dead.”
“I know I hate it too, wish you were still alive with me baby.” Leah says as she pulls back her covers and sits up in her bed. John just phases through the blankets and sits up with her. “-I too baby, I just want to hold you like how we did last night, you know?” He refers to how he had conjured up the energy to have sex with her last night as a ghost. “Yeah, look I have to get ready for work okay?” she announces to give the hint so that he could give her some privacy.
“Okay-“he begins to get off the bed and walk straight into the wall until he turns around once more. “Hey-“he calls to her and she turns her head to him. “-I love you.” He smiles and conjures up some energy into this next motion as he rushes up to her and kisses her unprepared lips long and deep without phasing through her body this time. Her eyes close for that brief second and she is lost in the kiss. Before long it was over and he backs away quickly as if he had been running a marathon, breathing heavily with fatigue.
Leah rises from her bed and looks at him; worried that he might fade away like last time. “Hey, don’t use up all your energy okay- I don’t want you to leave again.” She warns him. “I know-“he breathes out before speaking again with a sly smile “-but it was worth it.” She smiles and rubs her shoulder, shivering from the cold that surrounded John. “Well let me tell you; facing all that cold temperature shit while having sex was worth it too.” He laughs and replies: “Sorry, it comes with the afterlife.” After which he walks through the walls and gives Leah her privacy.
Suddenly the loneness sets in and she is reminded of why she has this bizarre life with John.
What was this? Why is he here? Isn’t he dead?
He was, in fact he has been dead for nearly two years. He died while he was taking a cab home. The taxi crashed into a semi on the bridge and fell into the ocean along with two other cars and people plummeting to their deaths while the sharks waited for fresh meat on the ocean floor. Needless to say he was a victim of a terrible accident and for Leah to find out on the night of her birthday was almost too much for her. Almost a week from her birthday there was a funeral for a picture in a coffin. There was no body to bury which only made Leah even more inconsolable than she was the night she found out he was dead. This was a sad fact of her life and she tried to live on but the more she tried to forget him or at least let go, she couldn’t.
One night after the funeral she had tried to kill herself. A bottle of Jack and the twentieth floor can be a grieving girl’s worst enemy at that point but that day they were her best friends. She wanted more than anything to jump as she stood on the edge of the building feeling the midnight air breeze past her blonde hair. She first throws the bottle over the edge to see how long she would have to fall.
The bottle reached the ground in five seconds, the glass shatters into a thousand pieces onto the asphalt road which was always empty around this time. Seemed easy enough- her drunken mind had thought. “See you soon John.” She said as she leans forward and allows herself to fall from the ledge.
She was standing at the edge by her toes until she is lunged backward and pulled back onto the roof of the building. “What the hell?!” she cries at her mystery savior. “Can’t you see I am in pain? I can’t live anymore! Just let me fucking die!” she commands as she gets up from her fall on the roof only to see John standing before her. She is agape in terror and happiness, seeing that John was alive and well. He stares at Leah with a horrified stare. “Don’t you ever-EVER- do that again!” he warned as Leah rushes in to hug him, but in a jolting shock of disappointment she doesn’t even touch him so much as make contact with his leather jacket and jeans that he had been wearing the day he died.
And now here they were, after two years of studying demonology and the paranormal they have finally found a way to be with each other whilst he is still amongst the living.
But even when he was gone for even the smallest of moments she was reminded of the days when she was alone, when that side of the bed was empty and that cup was filled to the cusp with the medicine she knew that would ease the pain.
She is reminded of hell and allows a tear to fall from her eyes. “No- it’s not like that anymore.” She says as she draws in a sharp breath but finds it hard to continue breathing. “Shit-“she swears under her breath. “John! Help!” she shrieks as she collapses onto the floor and finds it too hard to breath. John rushes in from one of the walls and is by her side on the floor. “It’s okay- I am here!” He tries his best to soothe her but she is still in pain from her panic attack. “John- I need… inhaler.” She manages to say as she is desperately grasping for air. But within no time at all John looks to the nightstand next to her bed cluttered with tissue and make-up and finds the inhaler right there on the edge of the dresser- six feet away. He concentrates on the item and reaches his hand out to it. With ease the inhaler levitated off the nightstand and in to his hand. The energy flows out of his presence in a sigh of relief as he places the inhaler into Leah’s hands for he can no longer hold onto items physically anymore; at least to him-not for another day or so. Leah points the receiving end of the inhaler to her mouth and breathes in sharply holding in the medicine and exhaling. She inhales with ease and is able to breath normally again. “What was- that?” she asks him referring to the telekinetic reach for the inhaler that accompanied Leah almost twenty-four seven. He looks at her with a smile “ I have been practicing but only when I had the energy- like I had just done.” His smile fades along with half his body then flashes back again without a seconds passing.
This kind of thing only happened when John used up too much energy, he would sometimes fade away entirely from sight and appear later in the day. It took enough out of him to even make himself visible to Leah, but of course not nearly enough as it took to act upon sex with her. Last night was almost enough to fade him out of existence but he didn’t- there was something new here- and Leah noticed.
“I- I thought about it again.” She says quietly. “It was the day you sa-“
“I know what it was!” he says abruptly as the clutter of mess on Leah’s nightstand shuffled off the smooth wooden surface and unto the ground by itself. But Leah knew it was John. Only he could move stuff like that and judging from how the things moved after John’s outburst, it was a mood thing.
“Sorry- I know, I just don’t like to think about that. It was bad enough knowing you were going to die because of me. I don’t need to be fucking reminded of it!” he says looking away containing his anger, or at least the brunt of it. Leah looks at him, puzzled and almost hurt, but above it all here was a faint feeling of understanding. She didn’t want to make him angry; if anything him being on this earth with her after everything that has happened, was a blessing from God and she shouldn’t probe him about this anger towards her. It was very possible to piss off ghosts, all she needs to do is let him cool off and do a little calming down as well.
“No-“he says out of nothingness. He looks her in the eyes this time. “I’m sorry, I know that this happens when you think of-“he stops and reluctantly speaks again. “-that. But if I am angry just let me know okay? I will work on it.” She listens without saying a word. “I love you.” She smiles and gets back on her feet. She feels the warmth of love again rushing into her chest replacing that small spark of hatred and pain from that night. “I love you too, John. It’s okay-“she continues and sighs. John looks up at her and rests his right arm with his right knee and sits there on the carpet floor. Leah twiddles with the inhaler she always carried since she was thirteen for her acute asthma. “-I understand that this scares you and it scares me too- but I have you again- that’s all that matters. I may think about it sometimes and I may get pretty dark, but that’s why I have you.” She smiles at him and he smiles back feeling calm and loved again as well rather than feared for his unnatural being. “Okay-“he says. She turns around and heads to the dresser to gather her clothes and bath towel for a shower.
“Hey thanks.” John says still in the same position as he was before. She turns around from her pacing to the dresser and looks at him still smiling. “What for?” she asks. “For saying that I was a blessing.” He replies. This struck her as odd considering she never said this aloud only in her mind just now. “-Yeah, no problem.” She says awkwardly, after all she didn’t know what to say, was this some sort of ghost thing that he could do? Maybe.
“Do you think there is a God?” he asks now holding the look of curiosity in his eyes and within that look he had also held in fear.
“Of course- he gave me you. That is why you’re here right? Because he sent you here to look after me?” she asks feeling even more weird and uneasy than before. John looks down in disappointment. He hangs his head low and looks back up at her. “I think so- but sometimes I wonder what really happened.” He asks. “I thought that was what happened?” she replies. “No, I said that: I think that was it, not that it was.” He points out. She scratches her hair and looks to him with the feeling of regret over what she might hear next.
“Then what do you think?” She asks him. He looks away at the nightstand with the clutter of makeup and tissues on the floor and back at her. “I don’t know- but when I died-“he says as he got up from the floor. Her eyes follow him up and make contact with his face full of fear and nervousness.
“-When I died- I didn’t see heaven.” He says with a hint of sadness in his voice. She was baffled but all that could come out of her mouth was this- “What did you see?” she asks. He bites his lip but eventually says it: “Darkness- I saw darkness.” This answer floated in the air like a poisonous cloud filling the lungs with unease and fear. What did he mean “darkness”? Why didn’t he see God or heaven or angels? More importantly, did he even go anywhere?
These questions buzzed around Leah’s mind until one particular question came to mind. One that froze all other questions in place and become one:
If not heaven, then did he go to hell?
***
The question of whether or not John was damned was another thing entirely reserved for later. Now she had to go to work; though John’s answer did make her feel rather afraid at first she had to research this some other time.
The odd thing about working at a convenience store for Leah was that she had to face drunken guys and angry customers with shitty lives that take out all their problems on the employees of the Seven Eleven. It was a job that came with the secret requirement of dealing with “troubled customers”- that didn’t bode well with John; even when he was alive he would reserve his taxi from his job just for when she was getting off of work. It was -in his defense- the best way to keep her protected. John was- is a good guy who will do anything for Leah; including protect her from the drunken assholes at Seven Eleven.
She was walking to work along with John standing next to her. The two of them stick close to the sidewalk avoiding the constant traffic that flooded the streets of New York.
“I hate your job.” John says to Leah. Leah looks at him to her right and exhales in exhaustion. “I know. But John, I have to keep this job; without it and the job I have at Macy’s I am screwed. I cannot pay rent without it and you know how hard it was paying rent even when you were alive.” She explains. He just stares ahead looking frustrated, his left hand was in his pocket and his other was swinging forward and backward to the motion of his walk. “I know.” He responds. He looks over across the street to see a child next to her mother, the mother was talking on her cell phone looking rather annoyed and yelling at whoever was on the phone. The little girl seemed to be looking at Leah. But then her eyes shift and stare directly into John’s eyes. This confused John, wasn’t he supposed to be invisible right now? He stares on in the strangeness that was this little girl with blue eyes, black hair, and a floral pattern dress. They pass the mother and child shortly.
John strays behind and stares at the little girl- and the girl stares straight on back. “W-wha-“ he wanted to finish his sentence but he already knew the answer. Leah and John searched this topic on google once. When John first reunited with Delilah they started searching up everything and anything there is to learn about ghosts and the supernatural- only to further understand what was happening. Supposedly, John was back for a purpose and he was to complete his unfinished business here on earth. Another topic they searched up was if whether or not others can see him. Of course Leah can see him, he was here for her- but they didn’t know who else was able to see him. They soon found out that others such as children or other ghosts and or demons could see him. But what he didn’t understand when he saw this little girl is that he felt something off of her. She gave off this weird sort of vibe, this mysterious feeling of pain and overwhelming fear. She stares at him innocently and then turns her head to her mother. The oppressive energy fades and everything comes into his senses again, hell he didn’t even know he was out of his senses. “John, what the hell, you totally faded on me then just appeared?” he shakes his head and looks to her, she looks annoyed and somewhat pissed off. “What happened?” he asked all too quickly. His voice was almost trembling. She changes her expression to one of concern and looks closely at him. “Hey are you okay?” she asks- raising an arm as if to touch him but stops her motion- realizing that she can’t touch him right now.
He looks back at the mother and child – the kid was still looking to her mother and the mom was still arguing with whoever was on the phone. “Yeah, I’m just-“ he pauses and turns back to her. “-fine.” She stares at him awkwardly and looks to the child that he was staring at and remembers what they found out about kids seeing ghosts. Realization shows in her eyes, she was thinking that maybe this whole being seen thing affects him somehow. “Did she see you?” she asks him referring to the kid. “Yeah, uhh, I dunno. I think she might have been staring at you for talking to yourself.” He lies and chuckles to make him seem less suspicious. Something was wrong and a bad attempt at a joke wasn’t enough to stop Leah from finding out what was wrong. It was her turn to be the protector instead of the protected. “Okay- well let’s go okay? We aren’t even supposed to be talking in public anyway.” She says and gestures the other direction as to say ‘come with me’ and the two of them leave the area quickly.
**
At the Seven Eleven things were quiet, John hung out by the snack area, waiting to mess with whoever went by there. Sometimes he would just throw something off the racks, like a candy bar or a bag of chips and then later freak the customer out by making the candy bar appear to levitate. Leah was behind the counter serving customers and staying quiet about John; sometimes she would find it hard to resist laughing at John and his antics and eventually bawl out in laughter making the customer think it was her pulling that off.
It was a hoot on Halloween but all year round’ was a pain in the ass for the customers, but she didn’t care she hated this job anyway.
Today however, she wasn’t looking over at John fucking around with the folks of New York. While he remained tossing a chip bag at a little kid who picked it up and showed his mommy over on the next aisle what the Doritos did. Of course the mom just nodded and laughed at her son’s crazy story. But John couldn’t help but laugh aloud and look over to Leah in approval. But Leah wasn’t looking she was staring down at her phone looking online for anything about ghosts who didn’t go to heaven when they first died. But all she found were articles about purgatory and she already knew about purgatory- John was in it right now- stuck between worlds not knowing how to get to heaven… or whether he belonged in heaven. She sighed in frustration and John watches thinking of what might be wrong. Leah saw a strand of her blond hair in her eyes and moves it behind her ear. She puts her phone in her pocket and looks around for anyone around to watch her- no one, just that little kid and his mom on the other side of the store. It was a slow day and the boss wasn’t going to be in for a while. She was even alone in the counter and her co-worker was on lunch break. She looked at John and waved her hand into her direction, asking him to come by.
(What’s up?) He thought into her mind. “What the fuck?” she swears under her breathe- he was never able to do that before- their basis on communication had always been direct speech, this was crazy and she had absolutely no idea that a ghost was able to do this- let alone use telekinesis like he was a casual telepath.
(Calm down, it’s okay- I told you I have been dabbling with my powers lately.) She was wide-eyed and baffled but soon she took control of her face again and tried to act calm, oh well, at least she doesn’t have to look crazy when she talks to him on the street anymore. (Speak with your mind) he says in a calming thought as he slowly walks closer to defuse the awkwardness of this new found power almost making it seem like he was actually talking with her face to face. (Okay- what the hell happened back there- with that little girl.) She thought and he must have caught it by the look on his face- so blank with “what-are-you-talking-about?” written all over his expression. (Nothing)
(Listen you need to tell me because there could be something mote to what is going on with you.)
(So?)
(So, you have powers that most ghosts don’t have- there could be something more to this thing that has been happening to you- I looked online-) Her thought was interrupted with condescending oppressiveness.
(Oh you looked online? You know they feed you bullshit stories and crap.) He gets defensive and his thought starts to feel like a headache. She shuts her eyes and groans softly.
(Damnnit John, there is something wrong and I need to know!) She says with anger shooting the thought like a telepathic bullet into her ghostly boyfriend; he winces in pain as couple of chip bags fly off the shelf behind him. This wasn’t new, whenever there was some psychological disturbance his powers would make things lift itself up and float around in mid-air. Sometimes they would just shove away in the opposite direction that he was facing, sometimes even fly around like debris from an explosion.
After he calms down she speaks again: (What happened back there?) John froze, his eyes wandering into her sympathetic expression. She wanted to help him- although all these powers seemed like a relatively good thing she was starting to worry about him- he may have come back to protect Leah- but sometimes even John needed protecting.
(The little girl… I don’t think she was a little girl; sure she looked like it- but she wasn’t. She kept speaking to me the same way we are doing right now, only she was whispering into my mind making me feel weak. I felt…) He stopped and looked down, his blonde mess of hair that covered his face as he kept adjusting his sleeves in nervousness. He looks up again and he seems to be crying, streams of tears come from both eyes as he exhales in a loud shudder. “I f-felt like I, w-“he stuttered but he managed to say only half of his sentence. From Leah’s left eye a tear broke out and made a dash down her cheek. She could feel his pain almost as if it was inflicted from him onto her. “- I felt like I was dying again.” She saw the pain in her eyes and she finds herself crying from both eyes just as John was. She quickly takes her shirt sleeve to her eyes and rubs hard leaving her face red and irritated. She looks up only to see John not there anymore. She is shocked to see him gone. She was starting to panic until John was next to her behind the counter and wraps his arms around her. She gives into this embrace and hugs him tight. They didn’t fall through each other but actually touched each other, holding close to one another. “I love you.” John says as he holds her tightly. She just hangs on tight and feels his love for he made her feel this as well. “I love you too, John. More than anything in the world.” She says smiling.
She looks up from the hug only to see the mother and son approaching the counter with the Doritos and two bottles of Coke.
(John, I have to take these customers-)
(I understand-)
With that John lets go of the hug and so does Leah as she shifts positions and gets to the register in front of her as she handles these customers for the moment. She finds herself missing his touch thinking if only that hug could solve all her problems-
(Yeah, if only…)
-then she would have been lost in that hug forever.
**
John and Leah walk home at 8:30 almost every night- It was fall so the cold was starting to set in- getting itself ready for winter; luckily she had brought a jacket. The two walked down the street that lead to her apartment only a two blocks from the Seven Eleven where she had worked. As John walked beside her she began to shiver. “Ever think that I being a ghost- carrying all that coldness and stuff- can actually make the winter worse to bare?” he asks her as she rubs the sleeves of her red jacket. “I think so.” She says through chattering teeth. John walked beside her casually as if the cold wasn’t even there, whereas to Leah it was freezing. “You know, I have noticed something.” She says as they walk under street lamps that illuminated the streets along with stop lights lined up in every intersection. A blue Chevy passes them as John looks to her. “Yeah, what’s that?” he asks as they continue to walk. “You can control it.” She says. “What can I control?” he asks. “The cold- you seem to be able to turn it on and off.” He stares at her in an unusual way. “How?” he asks. “I don’t know, but you weren’t cold when we had sex last night, and you sure as hell weren’t cold when we hugged back there- “she says and then pauses to turn to him. The light from the street lamp reflected off of his hair casting shadows on his face. “You were actually pretty warm-” She trails off at ‘warm’ and notices something rather odd. John just looks at her with worry. “What- what’s wrong?” He looks behind him to see what she was staring at what was so odd.
It was a small building with a large neon sign that read: “Talk to the dead” in bold light blue letters along with a neon purple crystal ball. Below the sign was a broken window that looked as if a baseball had been thrown through it. Bars covered the window along with newspaper. The front door was made of glass with a wooden frame- the illuminated greenish florescent came bursting out the door’s glass- along with a sign that said “Open”.
“What you didn’t know that was there?” he asked her as they both stared on. “No- but I just had an idea…” she said but almost immediately the idea was shot down by John. “No we are not visiting a psychic.” He says immediately. Leah turns to him. “Look we will go inside and if she notices you are here with me then we will stay. If she calls you something like Jack or Ricky or anything else we will take off.” She says. He sighs knowing how persistent she was and gives in. “Fine but it is horseshit you know? They are just going to rip you off and I will have told you so.” He said grumpily but Leah didn’t pay him no mind, after all if they were going to find answers, she would require the help of a medium. She knew that there was a point where the internet becomes useless and that you needed to seek the help of an outside source.
**
Leah and John walk into the small building wedged between two taller ones. The inside was lit up with a florescent greenish tint in the light. This room was small and was assumed to be a waiting room. Chairs lined up against the walls, which were covered head to toe with posters of Christian propaganda. A lone crucifix hung at the edge of a wooden desk that sat in the far left corner. The desk was rather large for a psychic’s place of business, it was made of dark red cherry oak and behind it sat a Mexican woman chewing her gum while reading People magazine. She paid no mind to Leah, though she was the only one in the room except for Ryan who remained invisible to the woman. To the left of the desk was a door that must have been the main office.
Leah was shy and could feel John acting so negatively toward being here. He seemed especially creeped out about that crucifix. “I swear if Jesus keeps staring at me like that I probably won’t want to go to heaven.” He says from behind her. She wanted to say something but she shut up, thinking that if she gave away his presence the whole reason for coming here would be rendered useless and the psychic would figure out that he was with Leah. The door shut silently and Leah stood there expecting the receptionist to notice her.
“ESMERALDA !” shouted a woman’s voice in the back. Esmeralda the receptionist groaned and shouted back: “WHAT!?” her Mexican accent was heavy but understandable. “Check in the customers!” Leah’s eyes grew big thinking about how the hell she could have known that. “Fine-” Esmeralda put down the magazine and looked at Leah as she smacked her jaws with the gum jammed so far in the back of her mouth that she could easily choke on it. “-Que pasa, sweetie?” She says in a harsh sort of voice.
Leah wasn’t surprised at the shitty behavior the receptionist showed but she went ahead and told Esmeralda what she wanted. “Hi, I’m Leah Jameson- I am here to see the psychic here-“she was rudely interrupted. “-No, what do you need? – a reading, a glimpse into the future, a fuckin’ séance?” , “-A fuckin’ exit- this place gives me the creeps.” John says from behind Leah as he examines the posters on the wall.
Leah is confused but then she gets caught back on but is still speechless. Esmeralda rolls her eyes and sighs. Suddenly out of the door comes a red-headed young woman dressed in a red tank top and blue jeans. “Esmeralda, just send them in, I know what they want.” She says to the receptionist. “Whatever.” She gets back to her magazine when suddenly she realized that the woman said: they, what did she mean? “Okay-“ John agreed- “-As long as we are in there and not out here.” The woman took Leah’s hand and leads her into a room that was dimly lit and contained hanging rosaries, a desk with books cluttering the entire thing and shelves and shelves of more books along with several artifacts that looked kind of strange. John gazed upon the room and felt slight discomfort “Fuck- never mind I will stay with the rude Mexican receptionist lady-“he says as he turns to go through the door. Leah held her tongue but she sighed tiredly. But just then the red-headed woman locked the door and turned to face John directly as she extended a hand toward him in a pointing gesture. “Stay.” She says with the face of sincerity. John stops in his tracks and is stunned- he wasn’t even allowing her to see him- how the hell could this be? “Wait, you can see him?” Leah asked stunned. “You came in here expecting me to be one of those hacks, but as it turns out, I can see Casper here. Sorry if you are offended at that.” She said to John. John was still shocked he couldn’t even speak. “Okay, allow me to introduce myself: my name is Anna Sullivan; I am a gifted clairvoyant, medium, psychic, whichever you like- but for the most part I know why you are here.” She says quickly, it seemed rather odd that this woman was the head honcho of this place- it was even more odd that she seemed so young. How could someone so perky and energetic be the owner of this dark, dim, atmosphere? Anna walked across the room to sit at the desk- she closed most of her books and made room on the desk for placing a hand of just casual book placing. She sits down and gestures at the seats “Here take a seat-“ Leah and John reluctantly take the two leather seats and sit down. “-You must be Leah, and you must be John.”
“Yup, I am definitely confused right now.” John says to himself. Leah remains quiet and still pretty confused. “How the hell can you see me?” John asks as he is squinting his eyes in bewilderment. Anna sighed. “Okay- allow me to explain things: I am a clairvoyant- that is the preferred term I use- I can see, hear, touch, feel things no normal human being should. When I was five I could talk to my grandma -who had been dead for two years- almost every day. At ten I could see the future and past in random flashes and visions that were never really in order. At fifteen I could sense evil, demons and the devil and such. By nineteen…” she paused and looked at both of them almost as if looking at a reflection. “- My boyfriend died and came back after I almost committed suicide.” Her voice slowed down majorly and became very sincere. She even recalled to the memories she had of her about to overdose on medication only to see her dead spouse knock her hand backward and see the pills fly everywhere and onto the ground by her bedside. Her boyfriend with the bullet wound in his head. Her boyfriend telling her that life isn’t over for her yet- she had a long way to go. “- he was there to keep me from overdosing and after he told me that I had a purpose he vanished and I guess he went to heaven.” She explains. The odd couple feels rather relatable to this, they felt that they weren’t alone and that they had come to the perfect place for help, and though Anna was probably the right person to contact- the room still gave John the chills. “Sorry for your loss.” Leah said. “Oh don’t be-“ she switches back to perky but remains sincere. “-If it weren’t for him, I would not have moved on. You see, when someone you love dies, you need to let go- otherwise you will just die inside, ultimately it will lead to your own self-destruction. But in your guy’s case, something else happened- didn’t it?” The two exchanged looks. “Umm, yeah- we need to ask you something.” Leah asks. “Go ahead.” Anna responds.

Leah looks down then up again. “What special abilities does a ghost possess?” Anna nods then responds keeping eye contact with both of them. “It varies-“ “How?” John asks.
“Well, it depends on how strong or malevolent the ghost is- if it is a weak ghost- it can only speak to you in small whispers and barely shows itself every now and then. A strong ghost, however, can move objects over and appear in dreams; hell, even make itself known to certain people it has history with.” She says. “Wait- what if they can do more than that?” Leah asks feeling rather uneasy. John could sense it too, almost as if there was something wrong here. Anna just looks at Leah as if she had broken her mind and left her confused. “Like what?” she asks.
She thinks about this for a second. Thinking about this morning and this afternoon and thinking about all her research in the paranormal. Everything that John has been able to do seemed way more advanced than what Anna had described. She felt afraid that Anna would say something like John wasn’t really John; she was afraid she would say he was a demon.
“Show her John.” John looked to her in surprise, “Are you sure?” he asks, this was against Leah’s nature to tell John to perform things like this in front of others. “Yeah- just show her one thing-“ she says as she looks down. He raises his hand and reluctantly flexes his ability toward the books that stood in stacks on the desks. One by one, each book begins to lift itself up and circle around the desk like a tornado. John tries his hardest to maintain the ability for as long as he can while he cringes in mental pain as the books kept on spinning around the room. Anna stares on at the books swirling her desk. She had never seen anything like this before. Granted she had seen a poltergeist in action but this was different. Leah sits there watching John, noticing that he was beginning to fade away; his face started to become transparent and in some parts would turn a shade of blue. “John-“ Leah said to get his attention, but he was too focused on the books spinning around the room, creating a violent wind pattern. “John, stop!” she says but he doesn’t listen. The blue surrounding his fading exterior turns a violent red; his face was no longer cringing in pain but looked rather angry. The wind flows through the room like an actual tornado, Leah’s hair flows violently with the wind as did Anna’s. Anna was struck with fear this was not the works of a simple ghost- it was in fact demonic. “STOP!” Leah yelled; John cocked his head in her direction his eyes black as night as he roars and she goes flying across the room and onto the floor.
The books fall and the wind stops when Anna pulls out a rosary from off her desk and aims it directly at John. She speaks something in Latin with force and before her eyes, John is gone; he vanishes from thin air with an intense roar. “Leah!” she calls to her as she attends to her passing scattered books and pages ripped from the binding of the book.
Leah strives to get up but is then lifted from the ground by Anna. She is trembling but was almost certain that John was a demon, he was never a ghost. All of this was a façade and she had been a fool from the start of this mess. Anna held her close to allow Leah to stand up right without help. “It’s not John is it? He is a demon.” Leah says with quivering lips almost at the edge of tears. “Not exactly-“ Anna sa id as she guides Leah back to the chair.
Once she is seated Anna looks around the room for a book. She finds it and brings it back to the desk. “What is he then?” Leah asks while she rubs her head which got hit while John was having that episode. Anna bites her lip, looks at Leah, and then responds. “Has he ever been in contact with anything- weird?” Anna struggles with the wording; she didn’t know how to ask her the question. “What do you mean?” Leah responds. “Did he act weird one time? Was he ever not himself?” Leah realized what the question was; in fact there was some unusual change in behavior since yesterday.
“There was this time a year ago when he froze in position when we were on the couch watching TV, he looked the opposite way I was- it looked like he was scared of whatever he had been looking at. His figure started to fade and then I had to snap him out of it so he would return to normal- then it happened again today. During work he mentioned what he saw.” She paused remembering how John had spoken of how he felt like dying again at the sight of the little girl on the street. “What did he see though?” Anna said impatiently; Leah was annoyed but she told her anyway. “A little girl, but it wasn’t a little girl he said- I am not too certain. He said that he felt like he was repeating the moment of his death whenever he – saw her.” A tear ran down her cheek, she had suddenly realized that he wasn’t there. She could look around but he wasn’t there. Her breathing grew forced and labored as if it was unnatural. “That’s what I thought.” Anna says as she opens the book to a certain page. It was a large rather dusty sort of book, with pages that were yellow and fragile with age. The binding was almost about to fall apart but it withheld through most of the damage done by John. She finds the passage she was looking for along with a picture of a creature with horns, standing on a tree branch, overlooking the figure of a man with a round sort of bright light surrounding him. She inhales and exhales slowly as she reads the passage aloud:
“ –The entity of those once alive are susceptible to possession of evil, as long as they both share the same environment. Benevolent spirits can obtain that once living soul to molest the space of those who the spirit was in contact with.” Leah just stares at her awkwardly while breathing in her labored way- she couldn’t take the shortness of breath anymore and grabs her inhaler from her purse and placed the inhaling end of the device in her mouth and pressed firmly on the top button releasing the breathing medicine into her mouth- touching her tongue with instant relief and soon invading into her lungs. She gasps loudly and breathes normally again. Anna looks up at her. “Are you okay?” Anna asks “Yeah, it’s asthma; it acts up whenever John isn’t around me.” Anna feels her pain almost as if her mind was in Leah’s. She too once felt this way and she remembers how hard it was to let go. “You miss him don’t you?” she asks her, already knowing the answer. “-What do you mean he was here like a min-“Anna stops her. “-you know what I mean.” Leah places her inhaler in her purse and looks up at Anna. She wasn’t comfortable discussing her boyfriend’s death. But this was somehow expected, she thought. If Anna was going to help she needed to know every detail.
She recalls the events and then speaks. “He was on his way home- I had called him ahead of time and asked him if he could pick me up from work because I didn’t feel safe out at night. He was across town beyond the bridge, he had made it to the bridge but there was an accident- a semi had knocked his Taxi over the bridge and he drowned in the river-“ she sighed but she continued while Anna listened patiently. “-A week into his death- much like you- I tried to kill myself. I drank half a bottle of Jack from the top of my apartment building and tossed it to see how long it would take me to reach the bottom and see John again-“A small tear crossed her cheek and she wiped it away quickly, almost as swiftly as it took to fall from her eye. “- But then, as I was about to jump- he saved me; he pushed me away from the ledge.” Anna felt sympathy with Leah and was prepared with the exact same thing that she was told when her boyfriend came back from the dead that night: “You have a purpose in this world Leah- sometimes the world can be an awful place and I know how you feel because I have been there before. I know how cold and dark a place the world can be and how much John had kept that place from hurting you. But right now you need to understand that you have to let go of him.” Leah shook her head no- almost refusing to get help from this woman telling her what to do. “NO!” she shouted but Anna was prepared for this- she might as well end the argument now. “You must hear me out; otherwise your boyfriend will become the very goddamn thing that destroys you!” She shouted back. Leah is stunned, terrified. As she stares at Anna with blind hatred Anna reaches out her hand and touches Leah’s forehead.
Before Leah’s eyes, her mind is spinning with images and not very pleasant ones. Her eyes grow wide with terror and soon turn bright white disguising her eyes with total blankness. In her mind she can see John, but it wasn’t John. John had eyes as black as night and was smiling wickedly at Leah as he gestured his right hand to her direction. It seemed to her that she was floating in midair against the wall of her apartment. She could feel her neck squeezing and her lungs pressing for air. That’s when she knew what was going on: John was strangling Leah to death. From behind him peeking from behind John was a little girl with a pale complexion and skin so dry that it was cracking at the smallest of smiles that she made with her black eyes much like John’s. The two of them together shot terror through her mind as the entire living room implodes and explodes out the side of the building as if someone broke a window during a flight and the wind sucked everything from inside and spit it out into the atmosphere.
Leah is released from the nightmare and her eyes are back to normal while she is gasping for air. Her terror was still there but she still felt the slightest of disbelief. “You bitch! You put that in my head!” she shouted but Anna shook her head as she collapsed into the chair she was in before she rose from it. “No…” she says weakly trying to grab ahold of her breath as well. “-I cannot project images into a person’s head! I can only show someone the future and past.” She says sincerely. Leah stares at her with fixated and hurt eyes. “What, w-what are you s-saying?” She stutters.
“Leah; those images, were your future.”
Leah stares at Anna feeling as though a bullet at shot through her chest- her asthma was only going to get worse from here. She inhales deeply then exhales with a shuddering sigh of sadness. By now she could practically see how this was going to end- with her death- because there was no way in hell that she was going to have her house exercised just to keep John from hurting her. The thought of John strangling her to death was unbearable but if she wanted to get out of this and still have John she was going to have to die first. It was her suicide attempt all over again- only this time she won’t be the one to take her own life. These thoughts crowed her brain and buzz around like a horde of wasps; confusing her and tormenting her mind with the sheer thought of death being the only solution.
But wait- she can’t think like that. Otherwise that would mean that whoever was with John in the vison would win-maybe she was the key to stopping this. Maybe, just maybe, she could keep John and still get rid of the problem.
“Anna-“she finally said. “Yes?” she replied, she held her head in her hands for she had developed a migraine from all this crap she has to put up with. At least she got paid for it- though she had a feeling that she needed to charge Leah a little less considering this was a spiritual emergency. Damn my sense of morality- she thought to herself. “What can we do to help John?” Leah looks to Anna feeling hopeless; she secretly hoped that whatever she had to do to help John would not in no way cast him away from her life. She had already lost him once- she cannot risk losing him again. Anna looks up at Leah’s eyes which were watering with tears that would soon come with whatever explanation she would give her. She looks into these eyes knowing that they would soon shed tears- she didn’t have to be psychic to know this- sometimes she thought she did but Leah’s feelings were too painfully obvious. She fights back her pain and places her eyes on the book before her seeing as though she was explaining what was going on just before going into detail on John’s death. She looks on at the page of the ghostly figure being overlooked by the demonic creature from a tree branch and reads over the words on the page quickly- yet she finds nothing.
She flips frantically through the book feeling panic and darkness clouding up in her emotions. She sees absolutely nothing. Leah notices her frantic behavior. “What is wrong?” Leah asks reluctantly almost afraid if what Anna might say. “Everything-“ she stops mid-sentence and gazes upon the pages before her inside the book. At this moment she forgets something. A pain in her chest, it was an awkward pain. This pain practically told her she needed something- Air?
Maybe.
She thought of this then realized- yeah- that is it. She forgot to breathe- she couldn’t breathe. Her airway was closed- her neck was caving in. Leah gasps as she witnessed from her chair the horror that was happening to Anna. Below her chin -as she gasped hard for breath- red marks began to appear around her frail neck. Before she could even register half of what was going on she is thrown across the room and into the bookshelf behind her- destroying the wooden frame of the shelf and collapsing onto the floor along with t bookshelf’s contents. Leah screamed in horror as she stood up from her chair and backed away from the scene. Aside from John’s telekinetic tornado this was the most bizarre and unnatural thing that she had witnessed in her whole life and possibly the most terrifying. Her first instinct was to run but she felt something keeping her from doing so.
From behind the desk she could see Anna struggling to get up from the floor. Her hand lands on the desk with a loud thump. Leah is startled but merely jumps at the sudden movement. Her tears that welled up within her eyes had long since ran down her red cheeks but this time it was not because she was sad but because fear had taken over her. Her hands shook by her side feeling as though they were going to fall off her arm sockets.
Anna’s struggle for the top of the desk had been successful as she slowly rose up from the ground and was on her knees looking over at Leah from over the desk in a quick second. Leah gasped- for something wasn’t right. Anna was living and breathing, sure blood was oozing out of the wound in her neck that punctured her two jugular veins but- oh, that’s what’s wrong. Anna’s eyes were nothing but dark red pools of blood. “You’re going to die tonight.” Says the dark voice that came from the mouth of Anna; the deepness of that voice penetrated through Leah’s ears like a shriek from a little girl who fell off the swing or like that of woman who has seen a rat run across a room before her very eyes. Only difference is that this kind of clarity in that deep voice was all too real and Leah knew that this wasn’t Anna anymore.
“What the fuck is going on here?!” Shouted Esmeralda the receptionist with annoyance and anger; she was reading an article in People about some guy burying his alter ego in a cemetery up in Maine. However her interest in reading had been interrupted by Anna’s possession session. Anna and Leah turned to see Esmeralda open the door. Within that brief moment Esmeralda was off the ground and choking out just as Anna had been earlier. She didn’t even have a second to react and she was already dead. How unfair.
“You dumb bitch!” Shouted Anna as she flicked her hand at Esmeralda; and just like that the receptionist’s neck snapped at an instant- death was quick but not painless.
Almost without second thought Leah burst through the door and ran out of the building- but not before hearing from Anna that her soul will burn with John in hell.
**
She ran home in fear of being caught by Anna or whatever the fuck that thing was. As far as Leah was concerned Esmeralda and Anna were both dead, John was gone and was God-knows-where. She needed to hide or at least find a place to think. So naturally that place of solace would be home- wouldn’t it?
Or was it not? For all she knew she just needed to get away- and fast. She ran ahead at least halfway through she had stopped to catch her breath by the street corner beside an ally way. The dark misty streets of New York sunk deep into the atmosphere and made everything hardly visible. She could only see the street and whatever was five feet ahead of her. That was of course excluding any form of light that could be coming out if the nocturnal mist of the night. New York was not safe at night and she knew this very well. But now there was something even more terrifying than the streets of New York at this moment.
She stopped briefly and drew in a sharp breathe as she continued to walk down the street along the sidewalk. Repeatedly, she inhaled and exhaled and inhaled and exhaled- over and over until she felt dizzy. Hyperventilating didn’t really help much when you were running from a demonic entity with possession of a clairvoyant. She thinks briefly on what was going on; she realizes that a demon possessing Anna is already the worst combination imaginable- since Anna was already psychic enough to know what happened to Leah two years ago it would be unimaginable to think of the advantage the demon had with Anna’s power. This was how she assumed possession was to work- she was half right but that still doesn’t help her much. She starts to pick up the pace when she realizes once more that she was most likely being hunted down. She turns left at the building next to her and walks on to her apartment building.
But amongst the mist and the darkness that surrounded her she wasn’t alone- because a man had been following her since that ally way she had passed not five minutes ago. The man stalks her slowly staying only ten feet away from her, but as she continued to walk he seems to be closing in on her, nervous and sweating with anticipation.
Oh he was going to rape this bitch- maybe even snatch her purse and sell whatever is in it for drugs or something. He was unaware of the system of drugs that circled New York- he was after all a tourist from Nevada. No he knew nothing but he knew that he liked what he was seeing as he stared on at Leah’s ass while he was only four feet away. The man with black hair and a leather jacket was ready. He was an animal- ready to attack. He was a lion and she the gazelle.
But what he doesn’t understand that there is a food chain here in New York as well; and even lions are hunted sometimes.
Before his very eyes and almost stealthily John appears in front of the pervert’s view of Leah’s ass. His eyes were black as night and his blonde hair hung low in front of his eyes. “See something you like?” he said with a wicked smile, it was so dark and twisted- it was disgustingly horrifying to see the way he looked at him- with hatred and happiness. It was like some twisted form of evil. An unnecessary evil used against another evil that deserved less of what he was going to receive as punishment. “What the fuck!?” He shouted at John and fell backward at the sight of him. Leah quickly turned and saw before her was John looking at the man who was shivering in terror. She felt weird and confused she didn’t know whether to be relieved to see John or to run in screaming terror, nor did she know what that guy was doing on the cement staring at John like that. Could he see John? What was going on?
“Stay back Leah, you will get yours- Jack the Ripper here needs to be taught a lesson.” Get yours? Oh no, John was still influenced by the evil that he had encountered a while back. He wasn’t John he was still that thing that was inside Anna, only this time John was turning the wheel and pressing the peddles, the demon was operating the stick shift and fueling the tank. “John what are you doing?” she didn’t get an answer and the man stared at John with fear as John walked closer to him, footsteps pounding on the sidewalk like cement blocks pounding on carpet floor- muffled like gunfire under suppression. “No, get away from me!” He shouted at John in terror. He desperately tried to shuffle away from him but he was too late. In almost inhuman speed he grabbed the man and slammed his body into the brick wall of a building they stood behind. The pain felt almost instant, numbing, then the rush of hurt would flood the man’s head then soon the rest of his body- for his skull had been cracked and the rest of his bones were practically nonexistent at this stage. Oh but the pain didn’t end there. “Oh God.” Leah muttered as she stared on in horror feeling helpless and frozen in place.
The man was still up against the wall but John no longer physically touched him, he was being restrained through the power of John’s mind. John stands before the man as he looks at the wound at the side of the man’s face. A long cut was bleeding out from the side of his face- blood ran down from the left side of his face like a waterfall of grotesque red. “I-I-I” the man stuttered as he was face to face with John. He was losing consciousness but he was, for the time being still very scared and had wished that he had never left Nevada- stupid brain- stupid bleeding, dying brain. “Come on buddy it’s just a scratch-“ he says with a chuckle and the man still struggles with his words. “-I am not done with you bitch, look at her…” John says with anger in his voice. The man still mumbles and blood runs down his face and unto the ground as he can barely lift his head, let alone form a coherent sentence. John then steps closer and raises his hand at the man when suddenly his head is jolted to look to his left and faces Leah- scared and disturbed at what she was seeing. “LOOK AT HER!!” he roared at the man and the man screamed, mumbling something along the lines of: “I’m looking!” but it came out as: “I’m looin’!” for when he opened his mouth blood poured onto the sidewalk into a black puddle along with several other teeth. Suddenly John’s tone changed and he played the happy guy again. He raises his hand to Leah and points at her with his other hand forcing him to look into Leah’s fearful eyes.
John laughs and whispers in his ear: “That’s my girl buddy…” he snickers wickedly and the man whimpers.
(Fuck)- He thought to himself. “You like looking at girls?” he says with a sudden sincerity. No answer; the man couldn’t keep himself from blacking out from losing so much blood. John felt annoyed for he had to force him to turn his head. Suddenly the man’s head jolted to face John. “Hey, you didn’t answer my question.” The man could only make out a responsive groan in pain. “No?” John assumed the answer- (Please, stop)…- the man thought. Of course John could read his thoughts but he assumed the answer for him. “Here let me help with that-“ He says as he drops both hands and inhales deeply. The man could not even begin to express the amount of regret he showed for coming to New York. Well, I guess he could start by screaming.
Before Leah, the man that was acting as John but wasn’t him became an animal. Everything she ever loved about John was gone in a swift action, as John gouged out the man’s eyes with his mind, blood poured from his eyes like uncontrollable tears. Soon the man’s eye sockets became blood filled pools that oozed down the face with sickening speed. Hs eyeballs were destroyed and wrecked from within the sockets. John had snickered. “I guess he didn’t like what he was seeing.” He chuckled at the horrible pun and stares at his kill with joy and psychotic black eyes. “Your turn now babe-“he says as he turns to see that Leah had made a run for it. He laughed and saw the figure of Leah running through the mist and to her apartment which was a mere twenty-five feet from John.
John shouted at her from where he stood. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, Leah! Die peacefully, not like this fucker!” He shouted angrily at Leah. He felt exhausted- breathless even. His face almost fades away from visibility but is soon restored. “-And this little piggy went home.” He says to himself as he vanishes in thin air, leaving his victim dead on the concrete of the urban jungle.
**
Her lungs at this point could have been torn apart and ripped to shreds from lack of breath, but that didn’t matter anymore- she could be underwater and swimming away from a shark and be inhaling gallons of water without thinking, because that was what fear was- that is what fear can do. Right now her brain was saying- screaming: “run!” so she ran faster than any normal being should be able to run; whereas her heart and lungs begged for the mercy of breath and rest- which was not a luxury she could not afford right now.
As she stormed through the double doors of the building that led to her apartment she considered taking the elevator but then again that could be what John was expecting. She in turn, took the stairs up to her home on the 20th floor; this was going to be hell for her lungs later on. Eventually and after five minutes of grueling terror on the stairs she had reached her apartment. To be honest it was more like a loft- but a shitty loft- not much to see here but an exit to the roof and scattered furniture with a view of the city through two paneled windows.
She charged into the hallway from the stair well only to see something that struck fear in her heart. It was a little girl with black hair, white and yellow floral dress, and pale skin. Every feature of her stuck out as dead, corrupted and evil. Her dress looked as if it had been exposed to years of radiation, her skin was cracking, literally cracking at the seems- like dry skin that hasn’t met a drop of water in a good century. And her eyes were like those of John’s when he attacked that man: black as night and as hopeless as a damned soul awaiting judgment. Leah screamed at the sight of her and nearly fell off the stair well due to the shock of surprise. But she withheld herself from falling and just stared on at the girl as the girl just stared on back. Impatience met with fear are two things you never want to witness in action, you begin to start doing things you never would have done with a clear mind.
“What do you want!” she yelled at the girl. And with a distorted twist of evil she speaks inside the mind of Leah.
“John-“ Leah was cringing in terror as she suddenly knew the reason for John’s behavior- he was possessed or at least influenced by evil, ghosts couldn’t be possessed they aren’t even alive – right?
“You can’t have him!” She shouted at the little girl, feeling as thought now her job was to protect John from this thing. She was defenseless now but somehow she will find a way to stop this. The little girl giggles condescendingly.
“Too late- he’s already mine. You have lost him”
Was this true, had she really lost him? She wasn’t sure but she didn’t want to give up so easily. When you love someone so much you just tend to deny any other lies or unspoken truths that you don’t already know about the person. You begin to deny every bad or unspeakable thing about that person that you would go at great lengths to prove that person wrong.
“NO!” she yells as she charges past the little girl and into the hallway.
Before long she is at the door to her loft and without hesitation she swiftly unlocks the door and charges inside. Once inside she turns and slams the door shut. The bang of the slamming door sounded more along the lines of a gunshot. She locked the door and began to cry. Her muffled sobs scream allowed as she covered her face with her hands. She just wanted this goddamn day to end, it all started out so great. Now it was just all complete shit. She thinks to herself about whether or not she should have just jumped off that roof in the first place- it would have saved her two years of terror. Every other day or so John would act up and use his powers to do things, bad things. Ever since he came back it was like he was a totally different person. Sure John the person was still there but John the soul, his heart, it wasn’t there. All parts of him loved Leah but some more than others. It was as if this thing that was John was only an imitation if the real John- the John that died.
“Baby.” Said a voice from behind Leah, she removed her hands and turns slowly to face him. It was John, standing in the middle of the living room standing beside the couch. “John?” she squeaks out as tears roll down her face. She drops her bag onto the floor. “Yeah, baby, it’s me.” He nods with his words and to Leah’s surprise he looked just as upset as she was only he wasn’t crying. “John is it really you?” she asks trying so very hard to keep her guard up. “Yes. Yes it is.” Leah dropped her keys on the floor and ran to John, tackling him down into the couch with her, holding him tighter than she had ever held him before. “I miss you so much…” she sobs her face dripping wet with tears. Ryan held her close into his arms. “I know, it’s okay.” But he knew it wasn’t he knew that as long as he wasn’t alive that Leah was more vulnerable to the dark thoughts of suicide that cloud her mind and overtime she would be compelled to do the deed and jump of the building in sadness and happiness, hoping that she would be reunited with John in heaven- or hell. At least to her it didn’t matter because anywhere was heaven with him.
“I love you so much.” At least that much he knew to be true. “I love you too-“Leah says with a loud cry as she nearly chokes on the sadness in her throat. She so desperately wanted this- she needed to be held close by the one she loves. But sadly he wouldn’t be like that for now. “Look- Leah, this isn’t going to last, times almost up.” He says as he tries to pry her from his arms. She is reluctant but eventually she lifts herself up to view her deceased lover, wishing ever so much that she could just bury her face in his chest and allow him to embrace her. She dries her tears and looks him in the eyes. “What do you mean?” She suddenly realized what he had said: Time? What does he mean almost out of time?
Was he given this moment with her?
Was he going to be that thing again? She could only remember the flashes of the gruesome scene that took place nearly minutes ago. “I mean there isn’t much time she has been holding me back from you since day one- forcing me to do these things-“ but he was too late to say the rest. He suddenly stopped mid-sentence and his head knocked back with force- as if he had suffered whiplash. Then once his eyes had rolled to the back of his head the return, black as night.
Leah felt a heavy weight in her chest- as if someone had laced her lungs with metal. What was he going to say? What did he mean? She thought about what was going on and about what was so important that he had to break the moment they were having together.
Without warning his head is cocked in Leah’s direction and Leah immediately stands up from the couch and backs away from him. “Honey- I’m home.” He says in a casually demented tone, his voice growing deeper and darker within the second. He rises from the couch and begins to lift himself off the ground by few inches. The couch and the coffee table are thrown by the invisible force of John’s power. The couch landed in the kitchen area in the corner breaking glass and slamming against cookware with a loud bang. The coffee table which was inconveniently made of glass slams against the flat screen TV, shattering both at once and spreading glass across the floor and flying through the air. Leah screamed and rushes to the door in panic, her heart, which was once calm, began to race violently inside her chest but nearly stopped when she tried for the door and it wouldn’t open. She wasn’t strong enough to kick it down so she was fucked either way.
She turned to see John, demonic John, nearly inches before her- nearly pinning her to the wall she leaned against. She tried to scream but her scream fell silent when all that came from her mouth was silence. John looks into her eyes and she looks into his. She only sees darkness in these eyes. At some point she was able to see her soul mate, but now he was gone, all that lives here is darkness. “What’s wrong, honey?” He said condescendingly sounding like the real John. “John, please don’t-“ But she was silenced by the gripping intensity that was John’s hand wrapped around her throat. “You don’t like me anymore, is that it?” With each word his hand gets slightly tighter. “You fucking hate me don’t you?” he yells at her face. Her eyes wide with terror and sadness- (He’s gone) she thought, (It’s no longer John) he heard these thoughts and he just about lost it. “Oh it is me darlin’- I am John, you can’t say otherwise!” he yells. The temperature in the room grows incredibly cold and the house suddenly welcomes a draft and air rushes through the room like a small tornado had passed through the loft with ease. (John, please don’t do this!) Leah realizes he is reading her mind and pleads for John to stop. But he refuses. “SHUT UP!” He yells as his anger destroys his surroundings and the powerful wind breaks the two glass paneled windows and soon after tears away the entire wall as if someone had opened the window on an airplane while in flight. Along with it, came the whistling of the wind vibrating Leah’s ears. “You will die and he will be MINE!” John says- Leah notices this and notices the girl she met on the stairwell- smiling with wickedness in her smile. “Goodnight, Leah.” Leah grabs ahold of John’s hand and tries her hardest to pry his hand away from her neck but he just wouldn’t budge.
Blackness surrounds the edges of her vision and she takes one final look at John for she knows that death is imminent. She opens her eyes wide and stops trying for breath. John looks at Leah and feels pain, regret, and sorrow at the fact that he must kill her. For the last time, John- the real John- looks at Leah and says the last words she will ever hear:
“See you tomorrow- I love you.” She has no time to react to these words but is only given time to let her lungs die and soon after, her heart. (I love you too.)
**
Leah looked out to her window from her bedside in her bedroom. From the twentieth floor apartment she can see half of New York through that narrow square window.
The city is beautiful around this time; pigeons fly by in flocks of eight or ten and fly right past the mirror-like windows of skyscrapers reflecting the sunrise in bright flashes of light, brightening the darkness of the faded white walled apartment bedroom.
“Damn, that is bright.” She says as her body faces the light at full blast. She holds her hand over her eyes to avoid looking into the bright light. She notices something very weird, her boyfriend John wasn’t next to her, she thinks to herself thinking that maybe he had to recharge his batteries after last night. She sits up and covers her naked body with the comforter on her bed- missing John’s presence.
Below twenty stories, on the sidewalk of New York’s vast landscape was John, crying and looking up at the building- only it wasn’t the apartment it was the construction crew repairing the damage done from the tragedy that struck nearly a month ago, and it wasn’t sunny, it was dark, cold and pouring down rain. The crew on the twentieth floor had to put on rain coats and cover the gigantic hole in the twentieth floor of loft 22C the loft that Leah and John shared so many great moments in. Now it has become a constant reminder of the hell they now share.
“You shouldn’t be here John- she might find out too soon.” The dark twisted voice of a little girl had said behind him. He turns to look at the little girl behind him on the pavement of the street “Can you just give me a fucking break!” he says as the rain falls heavy on the sidewalk, darkening the atmosphere of the city. For some reason rain made the world darker in moments like these; moments of regret, hate, and depression. “There are no breaks when you cheat the devil now get up there and hold her, kiss her and don’t you dare tell her what is going on.” She says with her voice sounding as though she was replaced by the devil himself. She smiles wickedly and giggles in her little girl voice once more. “Then don’t punish her punish me! I deserve this goddamnit not her!” he shouts at her, hatred making his way into his voice, hatred for the little demon child before him. “Oh… but that would be too easy for you.” She says with a curved smile. The girl stood at only three feet and was still a menacing little bitch. Then again she was never just a little girl. “You don’t see it… we are punishing you. This is your hell now, John.” He wants to kill her; oh how he just wants to just kill the demon’s false illusion and ring his hands around the neck of the real demon behind the childish disguise. But he can’t. He has tried but always failed. “How can you do this?! Leave her alone!” He begs as he goes down on his knees and sobs into his hands and remains unheard. This was his fault, ever since the day he came back to life, why couldn’t he have just left well enough alone? Oh that’s right, because then Leah would have took that leap of faith, hoping that she would be caught by John’s strong arms at the bottom. If he had just let her die he would be stuck harvesting souls as he was told through his contract with the devil in exchange for immortality. Torn between love and loyalty he had to make a choice. In this case he was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
Now here he stays, forever to repeat the events of that unholy day with the soul of Leah by his side. Every damn day he was forced to love her, hate her, kill her and then repeat the process in this hell. It was as if his and her slate were washed clean but if you looked closely enough you could still see the scratches and the marks left by the grueling and haunting past of the day John was forced to murder the woman he loved and trap her inside the memory she held of that same day she died.
END.

The Eyes Of a Devil

Hello fellow rejects! I have taken it upon myself to discus a topic rather than share the story I said I would present in one part- it is sadly not finished but it has gone off to a good start- so be expecting something awesome. In the mean time I want to talk to you guys about demonology.

As a fan of horror and all things macabre, the base for few good horror stories is the wide study of demons and malevolent spirits; and as you can see from today’s horror films- they sometimes evolve around a certain demonic entity or a ghost of some kind. Ghosts and demons, granted, are terrifying and to those who believe in God like I do will understand that demons are in fact the scariest thing to ever have to face in real life. Hell, sometimes when my stories involve the paranormal it scares the shit out of me to think of what a demon may be capable of- but it makes for good horror. And when you are face to face with the real demons- what the hell do you do then?

I mean obviously the local exorcist might not be in town and the catholic church won’t do shit until someone is dead- so what do you do? You take up demonology, get baptized, grab a crucifix, and learn Latin- FAST! Just kidding- but seriously would learning about demons be beneficial to your defense against the evil that lurks in the dark somewhere? Would it raise your awareness to learn more about the enemy before you encounter them?- I think so… and I am also afraid that looking into it will invite the devil into your home- and if you don’t understand what I am saying- let me clarify: It is well known that if you dabble in the occult you are inviting demons into your life- almost like using an Ouija board. I know somewhere in the bible it mentions that you should not walk amongst evil; would me learning about the enemy through research and books be like exposing myself to a virus?

I just ask because I am interested in knowing how to defend myself against the enemy (should I ever face the devil- eye to eye). But that’s beside the point. The point is when I see all these people who risk their souls in the battle against evil in books and movies- I think to myself on whether or not what they have learned was worth it.

But I must address this question to you guys in a more simpler matter:

To those who believe in this stuff:
Should I risk it- learning demonology- or at least learn the christian way of casting demons away?

To those who don’t believe:
If you looked the devil in the eye- would you be prepared for what happens next?

Of course for now I am okay, as far as I know there are no demons haunting me at this moment so I should be fine. At least if I don’t know about demons, I know about God. From what I know he is the the only thing that can stop a demon. And I am safe knowing that much.

The Devil’s Trail: Chapters 5-6 FINAL

Chapter 5

“We need to get the fuck out of here.” Dan mumbles under his breath as he grabs his back pack lying on the ground next to the destroyed tent. Tim was still standing there with the tape recorder in his hands. Dan is still mumbling and frantically packing what he could find.
Few minutes pass and Dan was already packed- he wasn’t going to stay any longer he was out of here and nothing would hold him back. The darkness of the forest alone had seemed to try and snuff out the flashlights as Tim stared at that recording. He then had the weirdest need to turn the camera back on and update the people who would watch this in the future, if he did make it out alive. Hell even then he felt if he can’t get out alive at least he can warn those who will eventually find this tape and save hundreds of others knowing he might be condemned to suffer the same fate as those who traveled on devil’s trail before him.
He aims his flashlight at the camera which was surprisingly still on the tri-pod. He grabbed the camera on its tri-pod and stood it up in front of him and a couple of thick trees in the back ground. He swallows his fear and tries to keep a straight face in front of the camera and turns it on and presses record button.
He looks into the camera and speaks.
“Hello, I am Timothy Wilson, I hiked up here to Devil’s trail with my brother Daniel Wilson and we have been here for only one night so far.” He looked into the camera and realized that he had a camera light on top of it. He reaches for the top light and turns it on. The shining light nearly blinds him until his vision adjusts, then he continues.
“We received an email from an unknown email address telling us of the paranormal activity here in Mount Lemon. First off – to whoever sent us that email-“ he smiles wickedly with displeasure-“ -I hope you’re happy-“
He looks over at Dan who was frantically and without delay packing Tim’s pack for him. He begins to cry. He knows very well he will die and soon as he stares into the camera once more revealing tears running down his filthy cheeks. Dan ignores Tim, runs behind him and retrieves all the equipment that was on the ground and not in use by Tim and runs back to the back packs by the tent. Obviously Dan wasn’t focused on whatever was around him but only on the fact that he was just as screwed as Tim was and they needed to get out.
“-I love you mom, dad, everyone that even gave a shit about us. And I am sorry for my arrogance and everything that I have done wrong. I just-“ He pauses. “I don’t want to die-“he looks down and wipes his tears with his sleeve of his shirt. “But I already know I will-“ He looks down and sobs silently for a small minute or two then he returns back to his normal stable self to explain the situation as he sniffles hard. He looks to the camera and speaks again.
“It was believed that ghosts haunted this place on a certain schedule: Once at sundown, twice around midnight, and three times at dawn. I might have been knocked out the second time midnight came around and-“ he looks at his digital watch and pressed a button to light up the screen revealing it to be 4:00 Pm.
“-we have a rough hour before me and Dan die or see the most terrifying thing imaginable.”
“Do. Not. Come here. –Whatever you do ignore the stupid legend just don’t come here- this place will destroy you… I am already half way there. And from the looks of it-“ He stares at Dan rocking back and forth and looking with intense paranoia at his surroundings, he was sweating like a pig and shaking like a madman, almost without coherent thought as to what he was doing a minute ago. “-Dan is there too.” He says with a final shudder. He turns back to the camera.
“So for the last time this is T&D Paranormal, saying goodbye.” He reaches for the camera’s record button and stops it.
“You ready?” Dan says standing only a foot away from Tim. Tim is startled as before him is the image of Dan with a slit throat once more. “Fucking Christ!-“ Tim falls back on his ass and wipes his eyes of the dirt mixed with tears on his cheeks.
Dan reaches his hand for Tim but Tim refuses. “Tim it’s me, listen we have to get out of here!” Tim opens his eyes to see Dan back to normal again. Tim sighs and grabs his hand and is lifted from the ground next to Dan who carried a red pack on his back and hands Tim the blue one. Tim reluctantly grabs the back pack and straps it on to his person. “Let’s ditch the camera – I have a feeling we won’t be using it anymore.” Dan just nods in agreement almost as if he could care less about the camera- he was calm but the eeriness of his calmness seemed rather chilling. He seemed to have been the one with the personality disorder- now making him react differently with each passing second. “Dan are you okay?” Tim asks him feeling rather uneasy in the presence of Dan.
“Yeah. Just –need to get… out of here.” He stumbles on his words and draws a deep breath and exhales violently. “Let’s just get out of here.” Tim says and the two were off leaving the camera behind. Time held his pocket flashlight and Dan held his FLIR cam with a light atop of it.
The two hike up what seems like miles of dirt road that was called the Devil’s Trail. Past the darkness of the trees blocking out the moonlight, the darkness appears to be crippling and causing Dan to stop every few minutes because he was either too tired or he felt too sick to continue. Tim was persistent on getting out- what was going to be a week-long trip turned into a death sentence and neither one of them felt like being on death row for long.
Tim was ahead of Dan, he was a bit more eager than Dan to get out of there. But as the two traveled Tim couldn’t help but think about what was wrong with Dan. What had happened to him, he may have been seeing things but even he wasn’t suffering this much fatigue or sickness as much as Dan had been. Maybe the ghosts had set him off in some way or maybe these ghosts weren’t even ghosts at all.
Of course it wasn’t a ghost. Tim had seen enough live exorcism videos and horror films to know that demons were very real and that growling noise he heard in the recorder was definitely demonic. No doubt about it. But wasn’t he just fooling himself. Was this whole demon thing just a bad horror movie playing in his head? Who knows all he cared about was getting off this godforsaken trail- Lord knows why they called it The Devil’s Trail, now Dan and Tim knew as well.
After at least an hour’s worth of traveling Tim was starting to realize that something was wrong. They have been traveling to the exit of Devil’s Trail for about an hour now from the campsite when it had originally had taken only twenty minutes to go from the entrance to the camp; plus Dan hadn’t stopped in a while so it couldn’t have been that of which held them back for long. He wanted to keep going but he felt as if the matter was pointless- would he still travel well after two hours? Maybe Three?
“Stop!” He stopped in his tracks and dropped his pack to turn to Dan who had already began to sit down feeling tired and frustrated. “What? Why did we stop?” Dan asked breathlessly. Tim looks down at Dan and looks back to the path they just traveled- the camp was out of sight and when he quickly turn around he sees that the path to the exit seemed nearly infinite. Neither camp nor exit was visible- just a trench of dark wood trees that spread out above him feeling as if they were closing in, narrowing his vision and crushing him alive. “We have been traveling for nearly an hour we should have reached the fucking start of the trail by now!” he yells at that direction of where the trail started- or finished? He didn’t know, both ways looked the same- filled with crippling darkness and cold.
Then Dan started to giggle, almost chuckle at Tim’s frustration.
Tim while still staring at the direction of the beginning or end of the trail had heard this strange laughter and slowly listened as Dan continued to laugh behind his back. Dan’s chuckle turned into a slow deep maniacal laughter. His voice beginning to warp and Tim’s stomach beginning to churn. “Oh shit.” He says to himself. He starts to look at his digital watch only to see it was glowing on its own and the digital numbers were changing rapidly it was like the watch was going crazy until suddenly the watch stops at six am. From behind him he hears Dan breathing but it was an abnormal kind of breathing, as if he was someone else.
“Leaving so early?” Dan asks, though Tim had a perfectly good idea that this wasn’t Dan speaking. Tim quickly turns around and see’s Dan sitting down. Quickly he pulls out his flashlight and shines it at Dan. Only to reveal Dan staring up at Tim with his throat slit wide open spilling a waterfall of blood and with dark, pitch-black eyes, and a cruel unusual grin.
“We still have so much more to show you…” He laughs heartily and loudly as if combining roaring with laughter.
Tim wasted no time made a run for it. He dashed violently for the starting of the trail for he knew that he was being chased down by Dan- his now possessed brother. He left everything- the pack his brother- just up and left. He knew his brother was gone and that there was only a small sliver of hope left for him.
The only thing he kept on him was his precious flashlight. Despite everything he had just seen he still held a deep fear of the dark. He couldn’t help but swear under his breath as he ran hastily up the mountain’s trail. Hi heart pounded with intensity almost fueling his need to run; for if he so much as rested for a second he was dead. The sad truth was he was never getting out and there was a very slim chance that he will ever get away from Dan.
Dan however was running, after him as well only it wasn’t Dan; what lies inside him now is merely darkness, an unnecessary evil added to the mix. A mix of hate, evil, and unholy power. This all dawned to Tim that there was no order of hauntings, just a bunch of fucked up hauntings that toyed with your mind. Of course the email was right on establishing a schedule but the only bullshit part was the number of times these things happened- thus explaining why there was no coverage on the other two hauntings rather than the first one with the blue orbs- the filmmakers must have died attempting to film it. And Tim felt like he was next on the long list of paranormal assholes about to be consumed by the trail.
“YOU CANNOT RUN MUCH LONGER!” yelled the now possessed Dan from afar. But Tim didn’t care he just kept running and running.
“SOONER OR LATER- WE ARE ALL CONSUMED BY THE TRAIL!” He shouted with a loud roaring laugh. Tim continued to run. Until…
Out of the dirt of the trail hands started to shoot up from the ground. Tim though startled tries to ignore the hands. Each one attempting to grab Tim and drag him down. He jumps doges and even runs at different directions and is still unable to escape the hands erupting from the ground. Each hand seemed to be missing some flesh and showed some bone, but more than all of them were a pale sickly greyish color. The hands soon multiplied- more and more had risen from the ground. Tim was heaving gasping for breath. He couldn’t do it anymore he just couldn’t run. He was growing weak almost about to pass out. He begins to slow down unintentionally and one hand has finally gotten ahold of his pant leg. He panics, yells even for help though he knows none will come. and before he knows it he is being covered by these hands shooting from the ground and pulled into the ground. The dirt pressing on his face with immense pressure and pain. He yells louder and louder for he knows that he was going to die. “NO NO PLEASE PLEASE!!!” He yells in panic at the edge of tears. “NO, GOD- WHY? PLEASE!!” But it is too late his entire body is covered by the hands and darkness swallows him whole. Ironic and almost tragic it is to die in the very fabric of your worst fear. Death by darkness.
Unfortunately for Tim- he isn’t dead. These things weren’t done with him just yet.

CHAPTER 6

“Noo!” he shouts as he is not pulled into the ground but is pushed right back out of the muddy landscape. He slowly rises from the dirt covered in it from head to toe. He coughs and spits and gasps for air as he sits up to catch his breath. “What the hell?” He asks himself as he coughs one more time. A few seconds pass and he looks up only to find that he is back at the campground once more. He panics as he stares at the shredded tent and the surprising change of lighting. Few of the trees had lit torches held onto the bodies of the trees. The place looked as if a ritual of some sort was about to go down. Tim begins to hyperventilate as he notices that the trail that he just walked was no longer there. Once again there was only forest-no trail and it seemed that he wasn’t going to escape just by going through miles and miles of trees. After al how far can he get without being sucked back here by those things? Hell how can anyone get far with these woods being so thick and dark.
Either way he was dead.
He quickly strands up and mumbles to himself in cold sweat. “No, no, no; this is impossible- no.” Though it was impossible, it had just happened there was no denying reality at this point. He turns around to see his camera-still on its tri-pod and playing some of the footage taken earlier. He was shocked and even scared that this footage started playing on its own. He was even more terrified to think that maybe this didn’t play by itself. Maybe Dan- or at least what was now inside Dan- had played the footage and hid somewhere before Tim and come up from the ground.
“D-Dan?” He stuttered in fear.
“Dan, What’s wrong?”
Tim said on the playback of the camera. Tim recognizes what this was and slowly makes his way to the camera in front of him. And just like that his heart drops as he looks closely at the camera to see the part where he was choking on nothingness as the red orbs surrounded both him and Dan on the camera.
He watches as he gasping for air in the midst of the red light.
“Am I- dying?”
“No-“ Just as Dan’s deep voice is cut off and the camera shuts down, Tim is greeted by another voice.
“-But you will be.” Dan says from behind Tim. He then swings his arm and sends Tim flying across the camp. Tim lands on his arm upon the dirt ground almost breaking it. He screams in pain and looks toward Dan- his eyes wide with fear. Dan’s eyes however, were dark and black with evil. To Tim’s surprise the open slash in his throat wasn’t there. What had happened? Did Dan heal all of the sudden or was he just screwing with Tim’s mind at first? Oh well who cares now was the time for escape.
Tim quickly tries but fails at lifting himself from the ground. The pain in his left arm was too great, “Give up now Tim- while you still have the chance.” Dan says in his normal voice smiling wickedly as he walks mockingly toward Tim. “No, go away, please!” he pleads but it is too late, Dan grabs Tim’s broken arm and pulls it behind Dan’s back. Tim yells and even cries in sheer agony as his already broken arm is being twisted and contorted in this cruel position.
“Say hi to the camera, Tim.” Dan says to Tim. Tim kept thinking that it can’t get any worse than this; Dan even when possessed cannot be this cruel or hateful. But sadly to say this was not the end of it. Dan lifts Tim by the same arm, dislocating it beyond repair. The bone is now piercing through the skin and even breaking more and more each second. Tim was on the brink of wishing for death, death though sudden and as bad as it sounds could stop this pain. He could end it right here, all he would have to do was ask for it.
“Please, please, just kill me.” He begs, wishing for death to take him there. His bone sticks out from his elbow like a knife and practically exits the broken limb leaving that part of the arm without this piece of the puzzle. “No you want that-oh you twisted son of a bitch! I thought you knew better?” Dan said as he shifts his grip to hang on to Tim’s shirt and to grab onto his forearm. “Don’t you see?- Death will take all the fun out of eating- your soul!” Dan yells as he separates Tim from his broken arm permanently leaving a bloody stump on Tim’s left side bleeding nonstop. Dan laughs wickedly as he drops Tim who now bleeds to his death, lying on his back facing evil itself-living within Dan. It was now Tim’s impression that Dan no longer existed- that he was gone and now there was this thing staring at him with his deep dark eyes and wicked grin.
Dan crouches down above Tim who could do nothing but wait for death to come. “You know, I didn’t know what was more stupid: you thinking that you were come out of this alive? Or you believing you were going to be famous for this stupid ghost hunting shit?” Tim groans, extending his other arm grabbing at dirt and trying to move his left stub that was bleeding uncontrollably. “What’s wrong brother? Miss ol’ lefty?” Dan laughs while Tim puts his last bit of strength into this final act of defense.
“You are NOT my brother!”
Tim yells as he grabs hold of the piece of bone that slipped away earlier and directs the sharpest end at Dan’s throat. In one swift motion Dan’s throat is slit open and blood from his neck runs down his chest and even splatters upon Tim’s face. Dan’s expressionless eyes turn back to normal again as the dark dissipates from his eyes. Dan gasps hard and long before he looks down at his brother.
“Dan?” Tim asks while dropping the bone onto the ground; for there was a feeling of hope- hope in which his brother was still alive inside.
But it was too late for hope. Blood has been spilt only to dry up once more. And as the sun rose up on the horizon shining through branches of the dark forest of Devil’s Trail Dan could only speak these words:
“I-I’m, s-s-sorry…” He collapses and lands next to Tim on his left in a puddle of Tim’s blood, and soon to be mixed with his blood as well. “I’m sorry too-“He says weakly, unable to speak anymore words. Not to mention the fact that his breaths were limited. He only had time to admire that the camera was there on the tri-pod aimed directly at the two dying boys.
Tim thought to himself, that his dreams to be a ghost hunter really were stupid. Honestly who would want to end up like this someday? Dying on a dirt trail next to your once-possessed brother? A trail named only after Lucifer himself. This was no way to die but at least, he thought, at least he could find peace in knowing that his brother was free of evil’s grip. He looks up and stares at the sky now starting to turn a shade of purple and orange almost like a reversed sunset.
Well this was nice. Who said death couldn’t be beautiful, or at least have a beautiful setting?
At the sight of the sky he could feel himself slipping away, his vision grows dimmer and his breaths become shallow.
At least we tried. He thought.
God, if only we have lived to tell others- then Dan and I would have been set for life. Doing what we loved and making money by doing it.
That would have been great.
Minutes pass as he is drawing closer to death and lays there in silence. Dan has been long since dead, Tim was only taking so long because his blood had clotted some of his veins releasing blood into his arm. He endures what was a slow, silent, painful, but peaceful death.
At least we got it all on tape.
He moves his eyes toward the camera fading in and out of his vision, until before his eyes the camera disappears into thin air.
END.

The Devil’s Trail Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The two brothers sit by the campfire. The tent is set up, and here they are; roasting marshmallows with the audio equipment up and running and the camera on the tripod aimed right at them. Ted had set the equipment to start recording whenever unusual spikes of temperature occur. Each camera or tape recorder was ready for anything. Of course all this technology was not cheap.

Tim and Dan may have a large fan base but not nearly as large as the guys from Ghost Hunters so they weren’t paid by the hour for ghost hunting. This was more of a hobby. A side conquest while they were working their asses off for raises and more hours of work just so they can afford all this stuff. Driven by their belief in the paranormal they spend endless hours in said to be haunted places and then post the results on You Tube. Sadly to say these two have only 500 plus subscribers. Not nearly enough as the guys from Destination Truth or Ghost Hunters.

“Do you think that there are ghosts out there? Like the ones we saw here earlier?” Dan asks Tim. He sighs, “I don’t know, I replied to that guy’s email asking about what happens after sundown. No reply yet.” Dan looks at the campfire holding his kebab-like stick with his marshmallow basking in the fire. “Hey have you noticed that when we researched this stuff that the orbs were the only found footage that we were able to find?” Dan asks. “Yeah, it’s strange. How come no one has ever posted the stuff that happens at midnight or before dusk?” Ted shakes his head pulling his marshmallow out of the fire and blowing at it to extinguish any leftover flame. “Dan looks at his Marshmallow noticing that it was ablaze, like a burning torch. “Shit!” Dan shouts as he swings the black puff of sugar off his stick and lands on the dirt beside him. Tim laughs as he chomps down on his gooey mallow. Dan glares at him, playful jealousy now in his eyes. “Damn you.” Dan says under his breath while Tim laughs even harder. “You vetter vatch it bro.” Tim says with a mouthful of marshmallow.
Dan grabs another marshmallow from the bag and impales the sugary puff ball at the end of his stick and waits once again for his marshmallow to cook. “You suck.” He says to Tim. Tim finishes his mouthful of marshmallow and speaks. “Don’t blame me bro.” He says with his hands up in surrender.

The hours pass and it is closing in on midnight. The air is more chilled and Dan and Tim put on jackets to keep warm, even though this is Arizona it can get pretty chilly up in the mountains. The night sky fills with stars, the moon is nowhere tonight but that didn’t matter. Tim sits next to the triangular tent setting up lanterns claiming he was turning them on in case they have to take a dump in the middle of the night. Of course Dan knows that Ted needed to set up his nightlights before he went to bed while Dan took the first shift.

The two decided since the hauntings were so particularly scheduled they were going to take shifts in watching for any paranormal activity. After drawing marshmallow sticks, Dan got the short one and was forced to stay outside the tent and watch for the midnight ghosts. Dan was there sitting beside the camera, waiting and watching the void of the dark forest. The fire was still going but it was slowly dying. He looked at his phone and saw on the illuminated touch screen that it was 11:55 pm. It was almost time and he was prepared to see some midnight madness from the mysterious orb ghosts. He yawns, looks at the tent where Tim rested and then back at the camera. He is growing bored as he waits for the next few minutes to pass. So he fiddles with the camera for a bit. He scrolls through the menu settings and finds different effects on the camera, including the negative color effect and the heat signature detection; this setting would have replaced FLIR equipment if it wasn’t just an effect. He thought carefully about whipping it out just to mess around with it, maybe even catch a couple squirrels with it. But he ultimately decided he wouldn’t misuse the equipment.

He sets the camera to its normal settings again and leaves it alone. He looks to his watch. It is 11:59pm. “Oh, shit.” He said to himself. The big show was about to start, soon ghosts would be rising from the ground in bright shining orbs. He counts down the seconds on his digital watch on his left wrist which displayed the seconds next to the actual time.

20…21…22…23…24…25…

His eyes grow wide with excitement; quickly he starts to set up all the necessary equipment (EVP, FLIR, Camera, etc.) He faces the camera on its tripod at the distance of four feet away from the fire pit. He places the FLIR monitor and camera around his neck by a strap. Once that was ready he pressed record on both his and Tim’s tape recorders and set them at the floor next to the camera. He then rushes to his equipment bag and comes back to his spot holding a device with a similar appearance to a TV remote only smaller and with little to no buttons and a meter on top part of it in a display screen. He turned it on and it immediately started clicking with a steady speed. It was his EMF meter. And without a second to lose the loud clicks were becoming louder, rapidly increasing in pace.

The Ghosts are comin’. The ghosts are comin’! He thought. His heart was increasing in speed as well, going at least 85/100.

50…51…52…53…54…55…

“Tim, wake the hell up!” Dan shouts at the tent. Almost without needing to be shouted at a second time, he is up and stumbles to Dan’s position almost stepping on the tape recorders. “Watch it!” Dan warned. “Sorry, what’s up?” Tim asks as he leans in next to Dan beside the tripod. The red light was on the camera, the EVP’s were set, EMF readings climbing, and the FLIR pointed at the dark woods ahead of them. Just then Dan’s watch beeps three times signifying midnight had come. Dan grins and stares ahead. “Show time.” He says under his breath.

Within the next couple of seconds, the bright orbs had shown themselves once more. The glowing intensity of each orb appeared one by one, hovering over their position, growing in large numbers and surrounding the camp ground. The EMF stayed at a steady deafening beep. The camera was rolling capturing each orb in their position. Dan and Tim stare in amazement at the glowing orbs as they closed in on them. Nothing was being said or heard by either Tim or Dan. Then that’s when they noticed… the orbs were no blue this time. This time, they were red and not as harmless looking anymore. They looked more sinister than they do innocent. Dan thought it was the color maybe it meant something. Was blue the universal color of good and red the one for evil? Or were these souls the one’s that suffered the worst because they were already going to hell? Tim however, thought that this was just some strange thing with the light tonight and it didn’t mean anything. “Why are they red?” asked Dan. “It’s probably nothing.” Tim replied still looking at the orbs floating and rising slightly upward. Tim noticed that the EMF was still running off the charts so he quickly turned it off. “Why did you turn it off?” Tim asks. “It was getting annoying, plus we need something for the EVP’s.” He whispers back. “Dude, this is amazing… how the hell did anyone else not get this on tape or at least on YouTube for that matter?” Tim asks. The orbs start to rise higher off the ground along with the other orbs surrounding them. “I don’t know, I guess they got too scared of being out here; must have high tailed it out of here the second they realized the orbs changed color.” Dan suggests. That’s when he realized he forgot something.

“Shit!” Dan swears under his breath and quickly attempts to turn on the FLIR, he didn’t even so much as bother to turn it on when the haunting began.

“What?” Tim asks.

“I forgot to turn this damn thing on!” Dan explains sounding more than irritated.
He quickly finds the on button for the FLIR and clicks it on. The camera shutters and turn on, the monitor that rested atop it and rested on Dan’s chest started to turn on first presenting the FLIR logo and soon enough the video shown through the camera.

Meanwhile the camera started to show static images on its own screen and almost appeared to have stopped for a second then started back up again. The FLIR screen then revealed to Dan what was truly in front of him. Upon that screen was not just a few orbs. Dan’s eyes widen in terror looking at the orbs which were now floating ten feet in the air, and then looking back at the FLIR. Tim notices his reaction to the FLIR but felt his response to be strange since he did not know what was on the FLIR. “Dude what’s wrong?” he asks, the red light glowing against his face. Dan tried to speak but couldn’t he was too shocked. But what came out next was even more shocking than what he could have said.

“Hung…” Dan says quietly. Time just stares at him as he stares at the picture of heat signatures dancing across a screen. “What do you mean man, what’s wrong?” Tim asks feeling uncomfortable at the mere mention of the word “hung”.
“They died…look” were the only words to escape Dan’s mouth. Tim grew impatient and snatches the camera off its strap that was wrapped around Dan’s neck. What he saw next will forever scar his mind. Where the orbs’s red, sinister, light had floated high above the ground were the heat signatures of full bodied apparitions floating above the ground and hanging by nooses tied to the tree branches. “Fucking hell!” Whispered Tim with fear at the edge of his voice. “What the hell is this?” he asked. “I d-don’t know-“ he stammered under his breath. The white silhouettes of bodies hanging by the branches swung back and forth like a pendulum. The black background of the FLIR revealed the trees as darkness consuming the silhouettes.

“T-Tim, what is that?” Dan asks “I don’t know- I just don’t know-“ Tim replied as he gazed upon the monitor then back at the red orbs of light now descending. “Fuck, what are they doing now?” Dan looks up at the orbs with Tim, gazing at the crimson red light as it descends upon them. The two remain frozen in their positions as the red lights group together like an army. Tim snaps out of his trance and backs away from Dan who remains frozen with fear. Tim looks ahead then behind him only to realize the orbs are all around him and his brother. There were hundreds of these things everywhere; Tim felt claustrophobic as the orbs close in on Dan and his position. That’s when the suffocation started to set in the need to breathe grew and grew, leaving Time practically gasping for air and grabbing at his throat. He kneels to the ground and looks around for any trace of the Devil’s trail. Nope, nothing, there was only the color of blood. He struggles to look at Dan who was still crouching and looking up at the orbs of light who were sucking the air from the atmosphere. “D-dan-“ Tim gasps for Dan’s attention but he is caught off guard by the monitor that was visible from where he was standing. There upon that monitor was nothing but white, the silhouettes of the bodies hanging from tress must have descended with the orbs. Or maybe the orbs were these people. Questions stir around Tim’s head-

What are these things?
Where is the rest of the trail?
What’s wrong with Dan?
Am I dying?

From the mouth of Dan came these words in a voice that wasn’t his own: “No… but you will be-“

Before anything else is registered through Tim’s mind he passes out.

Devils Trail Part 2

Chapter 2

Tim slowly travels ahead of Dan as they start their journey into the darkness that is “the Devil’s Trail”. Tim looks ahead of him to see the trail wind up the mountain side, surrounded by trees that seem almost devoid of life. This same pattern of lifeless trees and clear trail seemed to go on forever and ever. Sunlight barely peaks out through the branches of endless trees. Dan was just carrying his load and is more than prepared for that adrenaline that will fill his bloodstream with fear. It was safe to say Dan was looking forward to it all, so was Tim, but he had a different idea on what being scared was like.
“Okay let’s start this bad boy up!” Tim says as he traces his fingers alongside the camera to find the record button. “Okay, here-we-go!” he finds the button and starts up the camera. On the screen of the camera was a red flash of light that signified that it was recording. Tim smiled and started to speak to the camera as he pans out the environment before him whilst he walks along the trail underneath the trees that acted as an overpass. “Devil’s Trail, September 26, 2014, T&D Paranormal is sent an email detailing instructions and lists of supplies needed to make the journey to Devil’s Trail here in Mount Lemon-” He explains trying to give the audience that documentary styled feeling to his speech. He believed that the more unrealistic and “Blair Witch” he sounded, the more captivated and entertained the audience will be; however he knew when it was time to knock that wall down and make important statements in front of the camera. He was an expert at this sort of thing but was also an amateur with his personality, giving the audience a different perspective on himself each time he spoke or stood in front of the camera. It was like watching someone go through multiple personality disorder, schizophrenia, and ADHD all rolled into one, even though he had none of the above.
“-Along with the detailed story of how this trail is haunted by the many souls who have died here, and a detailed schedule of how often these lost souls appear to others.” Tim stops in his tracks and turns to Dan with the camera. Once the spotlights on Dan he acts naturally and he assumes his role in this part of the documentary. He stops as well and looks to the camera, smiles, then speaks: “Er- yes. We were told by this anonymous fan that these apparitions only appear three times a day and at very selective times: once during sundown, twice at midnight, and three times before dawn. It is, however, unknown to us for how long these intervals of haunting last and what they do during these times.” Unlike Tim, Dan was the true expert on Camera acting. He controlled himself, physically and personality-wise and he gave the information without unnecessary dialogue. Tim quickly turns the camera to himself without another word from Dan. “-It is now ten minutes to sunset and once that sun meets the horizon, this place becomes ghost central.” Ted then pulls out a digital stop watch from his pocket and flashes it in front of the camera. “Since we are unaware how long or short these hauntervals are (that’s slang for haunting intervals) I brought this along to record any necessary data along with my notepad and pencil by my side.” He winks at the camera and turns it toward the trail which has somehow changed.
For once you could actually see the end of the trail, or at least, see where the trail extends to a new turn and maybe even a small campground ahead. Ted is at a loss for words. What happened to the once infinite trail?
“Did you see that?” He asks. “See what?” Dan asks. “The trail changed itself. That campground wasn’t there last time.” Ted claims. “Dude, you probably didn’t see that last time; just keep moving.” Ted was still confused but alas he caught back on with reality; the adrenaline or promise of a ghost had probably made him foggy in his brain or something. “Okay- continuing; The Devil’s Trail is nearing its haunting hour and we will catch it all on tape; let’s go!” With these words he is back into fancy ass documentary maker mode.
They continue the journey and within at least fifteen minutes they find the camp ground that Tim had found earlier. Dan, having all the supplies and tent, started to set up camp as Ted kept on talking as if he had watched one-too-many documentaries on the History Channel. While Ted rambled about how ghosts were scientifically proven to exist, Dan was thinking to himself: If only he could stop flapping his jaws maybe he could help me set this fucking tent. The camera can catch this shit in its own.
The campground was pretty basic; where Ted sat was the stone bench and across from him was a small pit surrounded by dead tree logs and stones; this was assumed to be the fire pit. And nearly five feet away from the fire pit was where the camping packs lay beside a frustrated Dan while he tries to work the mechanics of this godforsaken tent.
“-Ghosts are an unnatural phenomenon, which is widely believed to be the work of fiction and horror stories. Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight we will witness how ever-so-wrong the former statement was, as we witness for the first time ever on T&D Paranormal actual proof …that ghosts, entities, spirits exist.” The unnecessary synonyms to the word ghost were just about the final straw for Dan. Dan stands up and throws the sticks to the tent on the ground. “Dude they get it!” Dan yells. He finds Tim panning out the tall dark forest that surrounded him but suddenly stops as he hears the comment made by Dan mid-monologue.
He sets the camera on the bench pointing toward Dan. This direction of the Camera wasn’t intended but was nearly an act of careless anger. The camera is still recording and Ted walks up to Dan feeling rather annoyed by his outburst. “Look what I say and do with the Camera gets views, it needs to be epic.” He argues. “We need it to be “real”; not the bullshit you put in front of the camera!” But just then Ted’s look of anger turned into one of awe as he looked not directly at Dan but at his surroundings. Dan didn’t look behind him he just asked what he was staring at. “Ted! What’s going on now?” He looks behind himself to see what was going on. As he turns his body away from Dan he sees now why he was so frozen in place.
Here, there, everywhere, sprouting from the ground all around the campground were hundreds if not thousands of white orbs of light. These lights hovered over certain spots of the ground; some emitted a sort of bright light with the brightness of the stars. Some even emitted a sort of series of lights, illuminating to a high brightness then decreasing in brightness again almost repeatedly. The lights seem to be friendly and harmless. Tim had a gut feeling that these were the ghosts that they saw on the YouTube videos, because these were the same white orbs that showed themselves at sundown. It was funny because he only saw the videos of these orbs during sundown; never were there any midnight spirits or early morning spirits.
He however didn’t care and immediately charged for the camera. As a cameraman’s best instinct he must film any and all activity that happens, especially if he is hunting for ghosts. He almost falls on himself until he catches himself once more on the stone bench and grabs the camera by the handle. He aims the camera at the ghosts and thank God they are still there. They are even appearing on the screen of the playback menu. “What we are witnessing right now is a rather strange event; these orbs suddenly appeared whilst me and Dan were talking. Luckily we caught them just now.” He waves the camera back and forth and in all directions to see every orb around him. “-It is to my understanding that these are the ghosts that we have been searching for and… my God. They. Are. Amazing.” He gasps and grins at the sight. Dan chuckles but then the chuckle fades somehow detecting something was wrong. Dan felt just as excited as Ted. He didn’t get that fearful jolt like he wanted but he did receive a feeling of uneasiness. “ Wait, wait…” Tim instantly points the camera at Dan. “What, what’s wrong man?” Tim asks behind the camera.
Dan sensed something wasn’t right, he had noticed that only few of these orbs had been increasing in brightness and decreasing at the same time. Dan immediately rushed for the pencil and paper in his pack and grabbed his tape recorder out his pocket and pressed the record button. Almost as quickly he sits on the bench, lays the tape recorder on the seat next to him and starts to write down a series of signals; dashes and lines only known as Morse code. During the whole time Tim keeps the camera on Dan, then at the ghost orbs and then back at Dan. “Keep watching them.” Dan whispers to Ted so that the tape recorder won’t pick up too much of his voice. Ted nods and turns the camera to the bright orbs of light that seem to be floating higher above ground now, maintaining that strange pattern of bright ness and un-brightness. He just looks around in awe, not speaking one word. Tim knows more than anyone that speaking during an EVP was a sin of its own.
After at least five more minutes of the orbs appearance, they disappear and fade into nothingness. Like dust in the wind. Tim turns the camera on himself and begins to speak hysterically, taking deep breaths with each word that he spoke and gasping them out after every sentence. “What we have just seen was bona-fide proof off the existence of ghosts, demons, the devil, God… all of that.” He believed that this one appearance had practically revolutionized the belief system of the world. But he still didn’t have enough footage to support this claim. God exists and so does the Devil no doubt. But basing it all on one small experience with the paranormal; it just won’t settle with the skeptics. More likely than not his footage will be called fake, a science fiction story, possibly a project for his computer class’s special effects program. Hell, he might even be called a fraud because he sucked so much at film documenting.
He turned the camera toward Dan who stopped writing and stopped the tape recorder all under a second. He was feeling uneasy; of course he enjoyed being scared, he was a fear junky, but this was different. He was rather un-happy with the results that he received from the Morse code test he had just established. He looks down at the series of dots and dashes. He scratches the top of his head, ruffling though his black, messy hair.
“I don’t like this…” Tim was interested although he didn’t feel as fearful or as discouraged as Dan, in fact he didn’t feel that way at all. “What, what is it?” He asked pointing the camera directly at Dan. Dan looked up at the purple sky as it was slowly turning dark. Then he turned back at the camera. “I learned Morse code when I was in college. I still remember it and well-” He says under his breath. “Speak louder man.” Tim insists but Dan just sighs and explains what he had found.
“Ok, the orbs of light were shining brightly then decreasing in brightness at an unusual pace. It was like it was trying to speak in Morse code so I wrote down what they were saying… or at least what I think they are trying to tell us.” He grabs his notes and looks to the camera. “Here is what I picked up:-“He sighs and continues. “Turn back, death lies ahead.” Dan sighs hoping that the message got through to Tim. But as the news sets in, he couldn’t help but laugh hysterically, the camera shaking along with him in laughter. Dan is annoyed and grabs the camera from him and points it back at him. “You’re such a prick dude.” Dan says under his breath. “You being the one who hates skeptics are becoming one yourself!” He explains. Ted stops laughing and stares down at Dan and the camera as if he had just been insulted. “Look I know ghosts are real and shit, but do you really think that these things can form a full sentence through Morse code; Because if that’s so then these fuckers can help with my math homework as well.” Tim jokes but Dan doesn’t laugh. “Hold this-“ Dan gives the camera to Ted and grabs the tape recorder from the bench. Tim aims the camera at Dan and watches as he shows the camera his tape recorder; which was a silver stick with a speaker and a mic at the end of it, along with a series of buttons used to play, pause, and rewind the audio. Dan pushes the rewind button and releases the button to play.
Out of the silence of the tape recorder was a faint moaning sound followed by Dan whispering to Tim to watch the ghosts then that’s when a faint voice of a woman began to say something. When first coming out it sounded all jumbled up but then Dan rewinded the tape some more to listen close. Thes second time they were able to catch the woman scream into the recorder:
“Go away!”
Dan stops the tape before going any further. Dan shakes his head in disbelief “Tim we have to leave-“ “No-“ he shouts abruptly.
“Fine you can do this shit yourself I am leaving. Chasing ghosts is one thing, getting ourselves killed is another-” Explains Dan as he grabs his red pack and straps it around his back. Ted turns the camera off for a minute and sets it down beside the concrete bench. It was drawing close to dark now and he needed Dan with him.
Secretly, Ted was afraid of the dark, when he and Dan were little kids he would always sleep over at Dan’s room almost every night. The two brothers were inseparable mainly because Tim would never let the two separate. He was clingy as hell and a great amount of his bravery came from having Dan around. If Dan were to leave now he would die out here. “Wait! Dan-“He said trying to get an answer from him but he remained determined to get the hell off of Devil’s Trail. “Wait Daniel I need you!” He speaks loudly at him and Dan reluctantly stops in his tracks for he was halfway off the camp ground. He turns around to face Ted who was standing before the fire pit. “Dan I need you, this is a once in a lifetime chance. The world will know, not just a small portion but the entire world will know that we have documented proof of the existence of the afterlife… we need this man. Please… don’t go.”
Ted pleaded, convincing Dan that this really was the big break that T.D.P was looking for, the kind that will get them on the map of the paranormal world. He also knew that this meant a great deal to his brother and that he probably would die out here without him. It was no secret that Ted was still afraid of the dark. He carefully decides what he should do in his mind:
Shit, we could very well die out here, who the hell knows what’s further down the road? But Ted really wants this, hell, I want it. But I don’t want to risk my life in the process.
But if I leave then I live to fight another day… but my brother won’t, he will want to stay despite his fear of the dark…
Fuck it.
“FINE!” he drops his pack and unzips it to dig for his campfire supplies. Ted smiles at him and sighs in relief; he can now sleep at night or at least stay up longer. Because the next showing was at midnight and who knows what the orbs have in store for them?

The Devil’s Trail Chapter 1

The Trail By Ryan Stratford
Chapter 1
“What the hell, Dan?” Tim yells at Dan from the backseat of the jeep. “Look I have this, okay? The fucking GPS is just taking a detour.” Dan yells back as he drives the run-down jeep down the dirt road somewhere in the cool forest of Mount Lemon. “A detour, on the mountain?” he asks sounding thoroughly not impressed. The two were on a journey, a somewhat strange and unprecedented journey; they only packed as much as they can into the small space in the back of Dan’s jeep for this trip. They have received an anonymous tip from a paranormal enthusiast such as themselves, claiming that there was a specific trail up north of Mount Lemon that was haunted by the souls of those who have died trying to hike up this mystery trail.
This anonymous tipper had sent them an email, giving instructions on how to get there, where to park, and what they will need to survive. This email also included detailed instructions on when to go. Apparently there was a specific time that these “spirits” show themselves. For reasons unknown, they prefer to come out once before sundown, twice at midnight, and three times at dusk; the spirits repeat this cycle on and on, supposedly haunting this trail on a very unorthodox schedule.
Dan and Tim had thought it to be complete and utter bullshit, but after an hour researching the disturbances of the trail (which goes by the name “The Devil’s Trail”) they were convinced by all the stories, news articles, and YouTube videos regarding these hauntings. Being that this was a spur of the moment thing they only packed half of what they were told to pack: an EMF detector, cameras, notepads, pencils, sleeping bags, tent, matches, flashlights, and the crew’s specially made FLIR detectors and tape recorders. The other half of the list was food and water supplies along with a couple of first aid packs and extra clothes. To which the two of them stopped by McDonald’s and a Circle K for food, water, and First Aid. Then they stopped at a Thrift Shop to pick up some clothes. They originally had an emergency fund for this type of stuff but due to the circumstances they had to dig into their own budget for extra clothing and a tent. As they ride along the rough terrain Tim feels pressured to get there, for they were approaching dusk and would miss the first appearance of these apparitions.
“Look we will get there I promise; we just have five more miles of dirt road to drive through and we will be there.” Dan shouts to the back at Ted as he taps his finger on the bright three-dimensional map that was the GPS. Tim was unamused, the both of them left their two bedroom apartment (or as Dan liked to call it: Their HQ) with the promise of a haunted trail and an opportunity to film it and become famous for revealing to the world of skeptics that ghosts were real. He wanted this badly, he even went days without sleep on his previous adventures with Dan, trying to prove the existence of all things paranormal. But now Tim was becoming skeptical himself, he thought that maybe this was all one big prank to try and get a rouse out of him and Dan. He almost wanted to call the anonymous prankster on his bullshit and turn around but at the same time felt hope for this “Devil’s Trail”. He thought that if this mystery tip was solid then both then the two of them will have had their own ghost-hunting show on Sci-Fi in no time.
Dan however, wanted all the things Tim wanted but was a little less serious than he; honestly he was in it for all the excitement and thrill of being scared shitless. He was one of those guys who got high off of fear and adrenaline. He was a classic horror fan at heart but was even more adaptable to fame, if he had gotten famous for filming and getting scared shitless, it would be a dream come true for him.
It was drawing closer to sunset and the sky had already started to turn a light orange as the sun drew closer to the horizon where the sky line met the mountain. Tim pulled himself to be right next to Dan’s face and points a finger to the orange sky ahead of them. “See that Dan?” He asks. “What?” Dan says. The road starts to grow increasingly bumpy and the trees seem to grow closer and taller blocking out some of the sky that Ted was pointing to. “That sky is orange; we don’t have much time and if we miss out on this first part of the cycle we will have to spend more time here than we intended and I am not looking forward to sleeping in a tent all week!” He says. Dan stands up for himself and talks back. “Look, I am not the one who suggested we go I just said it was possible we could go today.” “You basically insinuated it.” Tim replied back. Dan ignores this and continues. “We didn’t have to go today we could have stayed at home and planned ahead; you never think things through Tim!” In Dan’s defense he was right. There is always tomorrow and they were informed that these spirits haunted on an unusual schedule they don’t come and go whenever they please. But in Tim’s mind there was no tomorrow, it was always now or never, no matter how often these ghosts appeared, he was hell-bent and practically ignored Dan’s reasoning. “Just drive-” Tim ended the conversation as the GPS had announced that they were two miles from their destination. Equipment rattles in the back as Tim tries to keep it all steady. This was sensitive equipment; one pothole is all it would take to mess up a screen or accidentally lose a microchip. If that were to happen then this entire investigation could be jeopardized.
“Steady man, steady!” Tim warns. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get us there.” He replies irritated, “-Well can you get us there in one piece?” Tim asks, Dan just mumbles to himself in frustration.
“Holy shit!” Dan yells as he slams the breaks, Tim is launched out of his seat into the back of Dan’s seat. There was little to no harsh impact so he wasn’t in pain more so than he was annoyed by the sudden stop. The breaks squeal as the jeep scrapes off the gravel from below its tires. “What the hell!?” Tim yells. Dan begins to grin from ear to ear,it was a slow wicked grin that assured itself that there was indeed something to be happy about. “Dude look!” He says. Tim regains his senses after his brief run-in with the back of Dan’s seat and looks ahead of him outside the windshield.
There it was- the Devil’s Trail. It was a tall almost completely dark forest, the trees branches intertwining with each other making the forest seem almost infinite, as if this giant spread of green was all one tree shrouding and spreading amongst the forest. Before Ted and Dan’s jeep was a sign hanging by a nail upon one of the many trees arching over a clear path that was untouched by rock. The sign read: “the Devil’s Trail” in dried up red paint. Around them was a line of trees surrounding the jeep and the dirt road behind them, almost as if it was a giant dam, keeping the rest of the world out of Devil’s Trail.
“Get the tent and backpacks, I’ll get the equipment.” Without another word the two springs into action and grab whatever was necessary for setting up camp and recording paranormal activity. Dan grabbed all the food and water needed along with clothes for the two of them packed into two camping packs, one blue and the other one red.
Ted spent the time trying to get the basic equipment started up and grabbing the silver suitcases full of ghost hunting equipment. The basic stuff included a camera and the night vision lens. Ted had strapped both silver suitcases full of tech to a harness on his back and carried his giant film-making camera that he had gotten for his 19th birthday in the front, and just like that he was a walking tech crew. “You ready?” Tim asked. Dan closed the trunk and held the two packs in both arms. Dan nods and with that they embark on their journey into “the Devils Trail.”