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Music tip:
Max Ablitzer – Ghost Lullaby
youtube: watch?v=9Rhz3Hn2Z5Y
Murderous Night
One Shot
Team Crafted
Originally Mitch had planned to visit the Halloween party together with his friends. All of the Team Crafted guys were currently at a big party somewhere in the neighborhood, everyone except for Mitch. With a loud sigh he fell back onto the couch and stared silently at the ceiling.
Being sick sucked endlessly.
It had begun slowly – a short headache here, a simple cough there – but over the last few days it had gotten worse. He still wanted to go to the party desperately, but even Mitch himself had to accept that it was no use with a high fever.
He couldn't even record some videos in the meantime.
Another sigh followed his gloomy thoughts, before Mitch sat up again and looked around the living room. For a moment he considered turning on the TV, but today there would be scary movies to no end. Watching them with his friends were no problem, sure, but alone on Halloween…
Mitch rather went to the radio to turn on some good music, before he would consider going to bed early.
He stopped in front of the radio and pushed the button, but nothing happened. Mitch frowned and tried it again and again. Maybe it was the wire? No, everything was fine, the plug as well. Slowly Mitch stood up again, as a bright light was blinding him. A lightning strike. Not a second later it was followed by the loud rumbling of the thunder.
"Great, a thunderstorm. No wonder the radio isn't working."
Being Angry, Mitch turned around again and went to turn the light on. It wasn't working as well. "Must be because of the storm," Mitch mumbled to himself and looked out of the window to their pool. Behind the trees he could see the lights of the other houses. There was only one possibility left.
"This is getting better and better. The fuse must have blown."
Nobody else was in the house, but Mitch felt safer talking to himself, especially without any electricity working. It was just 9 pm, but the sun had been long gone. The whole day thick clouds had covered the sky and the threat of rain had hung in the air. Mitch would never say it out loud, but all in all it was indeed pretty scary.
"Bullshit," he murmured and rolled his eyes at himself.
He was old enough to know that nothing would happen.
There were no ghosts, no zombies and especially no demons. He was completely safe.
He just needed this damn light to be back on.
After he had put his shoes on again, Mitch looked around for a flashlight. As he was about to look into a cupboard, he remembered his old one in the back of his car. With a little bit of luck it would still work! "Alright Mitch, it's just a little walk to the car, nothing to worry about."
His words didn't help much, as he slowly opened the front door and peeked outside…
No one was there. Of course not. With a low chuckle Mitch released the breath he was holding, opened the door completely and went over to his car. The storm was raging on and the loud thunder made him even flinch once. Still there was no rain, not a single drop. Slowly Mitch stopped and glanced up into the dark sky. It seemed to him as if the rain had been waiting for something the whole day long and was now on the verge of falling. A cold, sharp wind was tearing at his short strands of hair and his shirt, but the fresh air felt good for the moment.
It was a night just like any other.
This time Mitch finally believed it.
He continued his way to the car and opened the trunk. Various empty bags were lying around and he had to lean forward to reach the ones in the back. He had parked his car with the front side to the street, so he wasn't visible to any pedestrians – not that there were any this evening. The adult were celebrating at some parties, as his friends were doing right now, or they helped their younger children to collect some sweets.
A sudden thought hit Mitch and he froze completely, still half buried in the trunk of his car.
It was Halloween.
Mitch had been home the whole time… but there had not been a single child at their house, asking for candy.
The eerie feeling was back and hit him at full strength.
Then a little silvery thing caught his eye and a second later he had the flashlight in his hand. He was about to get out again and run back to the house, as low voices reached his ears.
"What did you get at the last house, Trish?"
"I have a whole bar of chocolate, look!"
Children.
Mitch nearly let out a happy laugh, as he looked around the car to see a group of three children walking across the street towards the Team Crafted house. He was all alone and on a Halloween night on top of it – of course he was a bit jumpy tonight. Again he tried to relax his muscles and collect his thoughts, as he continued to glance at the children. One of them had dressed as a ghost, another one seemed to be Elsa from the Disney movie and the last one was a pirate.
A big smile formed on his face and he thought about where Ian could have left the bowl with the candy, as they continued their talk.
"Great! Let's go to this house next!"
The ghost was pointing in Mitch's direction and he prepared to get out of the car again, so he wouldn't scare the children, as the footsteps suddenly stopped. As none of them began to talk, Mitch wrinkled his brow and looked around the car again.
All three of them stood in front of the entrance of their property. Their eyes were wide open, one of them blinked confused and stared to his companions. They were fixing something up high at the building and even before the little ghost spoke, Mitch knew that something was seriously off.
"Did you saw her?"
"Yeah… so creepy."
"Do you think she lives here?"
"I don't care, let's go, I'm scared!"
The kids hurried off, but Mitch couldn't move an inch.
Her.
At the moment there was not a single woman with the guys here in LA.
Especially now. Mitch was supposed to be all alone in the house. Did the kids saw him and wanted to trick him? Yeah, that had to be it, for sure. A stupid joke of some children, because they had seen him lurking behind the car. It sounded logical, but the reasoning of his mind didn't help him at all. The fear in the children's eyes had been so real, nearly touchable, as they had stared at the upper floor with wide eyes, mouths open and a silent scream at the tip of their tongues.
It was for sure just a joke.
Nonetheless, Mitch was too scared to turn around.
His eyes were still fixated on the street, which now was completely abandoned again, while the big lurking building in his back became more threatening with every passing second. In his right hand were still the keys. Maybe a person had gone into the building, a thief, and the wisest choice would be to take his car and drive away.
In the horror movies Mitch could never believe the stupidity of the main person. Whenever there was a suspicious noise, a moan or scream, they tended to investigate it, even though they knew better. They purposefully put their lives at risk and gave in to the awaiting fear and the devastation.
Now Mitch understood them.
Never before in his life had he been so scared. His hands were trembling, his heart was pounding painfully in his chest and he held his breath, despite his burning lungs. The fear was dominating him and flowed through his veins, but there was something so much stronger than his dread could ever be.
Curiosity.
An emotion as deadly as love itself.
He needed to know for sure, he had to be certain. Slowly Mitch began to move again. His muscles were stiff and the cold wind was no longer refreshing. The sharp blows ripped at his clothes, the storm became stronger and more violent – the rain was still missing. Every inch he moved took a lifetime and his eyes were firmly fixed on the floor. The panic rose and he was about to hyperventilate, but he couldn't stop. His mind was begging him to turn around and run, just run, no matter the destination. 'Just scram!'
His stare went up and he fixated the big window to the hall of the upper floor.
Nothing. Nobody.
Caught in the shock, Mitch began to laugh loud and hysterically. His legs were shaking and to keep himself from falling, he had to lean on the side of his car. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" he screamed and tried to catch his breath. "A stupid joke!"
The laughter died down quickly and as fast as possible Mitch ran back to the house. Screw the children, screw their jokes, screw Halloween and screw the weather and the electricity. He was going down to the cellar now and nobody would hinder him from repairing whatever was wrong at the fuse box. Then he would turn on the damn radio and listen to his favorite band at full volume, while he would watch the funniest DVD they had.
His motivation was beat down a bit at the sight of the thick darkness in the cellar. Not a single window was existent and for a second the panic rose again. Then Mitch turned the switch on his flashlight and a blessed beam of light drove his inner demons away. He uttered a sigh and dared to smile. Everything was fine. The stairs were intact, not a single step was broken and the cellar was tidy and neatly arranged. At the fuse box it just took him a minute to find the mistake – all thanks to his father – and half a minute later he was in the hallway again. Everything was fine. The light was curing him and his tormented soul, his plans were forgotten, he just needed to sleep peacefully for a few hours in the presence of his holy light, his treasure.
Everything was fine.
His steps led him to the living room again.
Everything was fine.
His hand searched for the light switch.
Everything was fine.
Blinding light filled the room.
Everything was fine.
And then he saw her.
He probably looked at her not even for a second, but the sight of the deadly pale woman was forever imprinted on his mind. Long wavy hair, black as the night itself, fell over her white dress. Her lips were blood red and a thin smile adorned her graceful features. Still her ice blue eyes impressed him the most. They were tantalizing him and without saying a word she begged him to come closer. Her head leaned to the side and the smile seemed to be honest, almost playful. A white hand was held out to him in a gallant gesture.
He smiled back.
His hand rose.
Then the flashlight he had dropped reached the floor with a loud noise.
The magic was gone, the beautiful skin turned into rotten flesh and her ugly mouth opened wide to let out a scream. Suddenly light bulbs exploded, shards of glass rained down on him and he finally awoke from his slumber to see her dead body in all of its glory. A heart-tearing scream reached his ears – his own – and as fast as he could Mitch turned around and ran out of the front door.
His mind couldn't comprehend, he barely caught enough breath and every useless thought had been erased from his mind. One order was all he needed. Get away. Flee. Run. Save your life!
He was sick and had a high fever, nonetheless he was running faster than ever before. Not for a second would Mitch doubt that his life was at stake, whoever or whatever the person in the living room was. The kids had been right all along and as all the stupid main characters in the movies, he had done the same mistake.
Curiosity.
The curse of humanity.
Tears were flowing down his face and mixed with the heavy raindrops he just then noticed. His mind couldn't comprehend so he went on autopilot. His hand grabbed in his right pocket and as he picked out his phone he didn't dare to look back. Everything worked on its own and suddenly he could hear the voice of Jerome through his phone.
"Where are you?!"
He screamed and even though the storm was raging all around him, his desperate and shaken voice reached the other end of the call perfectly. The loud noises in the background dropped immediately due to a shout of Jerome and not a second later did he reply.
"Still at the party, what's going on? Are you okay?"
"No, I'm fucking not okay! Where ar-"
He panted heavily now, his lungs were about to give up, but the reason for his abrupt interruption was another. A cold hand grabbed his left arm, long fingernails sank deep into his flesh and he was yanked backwards.
"Mitch?!"
"Help me!"
Never before had he been in the situation to call for help. Neither had there been an accident, nor a person who had needed his help desperately. He had always wondered if it would be hard to raise his voice and alarm every single person around him in a situation like that.
Now he knew better.
He didn't think about it.
There was just pure desperation.
Pain.
Panic.
Terror.
He was about to die.
The tears blurred his vision, the rain made him slip and as he hit the ground hard, the heavy weight on his back was suddenly lifted. A thousand hands grabbed him, another scream, his own again, he sobbed and tried to get some air, but his breathing was too fast, the panic too strong-
"Mitch, calm down! We're here, we've got you!"
Jerome.
His vision returned and his hands clung desperately to the shirt of his best friend. He was sitting in the bright wooden hallway of an unfamiliar house. Jerome kneeled in front of him, at his side he could see Ian and Jason. Some people surrounded them, the rest of Team Crafted as well. His whole body was shaking and his eyes were wide opened.
"That's good, keep breathing. Deep breaths, Mitch."
Ian's voice helped him, as his hand was feeling for his pulse.
"We managed to pull it off of you, but as soon as we had arrived it disappeared."
"It?"
His voice was barely understandable.
"The thing that was following you. At first we thought it was a person, but as we saw it…"
Jerome stopped and threw a meaningful glance to Ian. Then he tried to put on a confident smile and looked back to Mitch. "The police are on their way, you're safe now." His heartbeat steadied, the breaths were reviving him. He had done it. He had survived.
His mind couldn't comprehend, but his emotions did.
The fear and the panic slowly vanished, a grateful smile appeared on his face and he leaned back again. His eyes roamed around the group of people, familiar faces, friends, neighbours. Everything was fine. This time for sure. No kids and their frightened faces, no coldblooded and dead women. Everything was fine. People started to talk again, laughter filled the air and everyone was glad about the turn of events, even though they didn't knew what had happened before. They felt it, they saw his terror and for once the curiosity lost to the good quality of humanity: Solidarity.
Everything was fine.
And then he saw her at the back of the group, smiling maliciously.
Her mouth opened, she let out a high and terrifying scream.
The light bulbs exploded, glass shards rained down on them.
And then there was only darkness.
Everything was fine.
It's 4 am here in Germany, I wrote this one-shot the whole night. Q-Q Can you please leave me a comment and tell me if it was worth it? Or is there constructive critique?
