Autumn: *vacant stare* Happy Halloween.

ARL has no clue what the Kame Game Shop looks like so please forgive her. Some important numbers are 12:48 and 1:21.

Haunted

Chapter One

Disbelief comes with an ignorant price

But now I'm bound by

The life you left behind

Your face it haunts

My once pleasent dreams

Your voice it chased away

All of the sanity in me - My Immortal, Evanescence

The clock chimes the time, 12:30. In the Kame game shop, Yami stretches his tired arms above his head. The darkness outside the window only reminds the eighteen year old how late it is, or early, depending on the person. A few boxes lay scattered about overflowing wih clothes and the teenager's personal items. He runs a pale hand through his interesting hair of three colors and desides to call it a night and heads to bed.

He tiptoes up the stairs and makes little noise despite the fact he is alone. Old habits die hard. Yami ignores the first door to the right and continues down the hallway to the second door on the left. The teenager walks into the master bedroom and looks around. The old man who used to live here had forgotten a few things: a pair of shoes, his reading glasses, and a picture of a boy who looks like Yami's long lost brother.

Yami flips the picture down and replaces his clothes with pajamas. When he turns out the light, he is reminded of the rather chilling story of why the house was for sale. A horrifying murder took place nearly five years ago, and now the grandfather of the victim is spending his final days in his daughter in law's home. He said when he gave Yami the keys, "I couldn't spend another minute here. Every day I'm reminded of Yuugi's death. I hope you can create new, happy memories here."

He had agreed and now he stares at the ceiling with his carmine eyes. Sleep desides to evade him much to his displeasure. The digital's glowing numbers pronounce the time as 12:42. Twelve minutes and he is still trying to sleep. The feeling of being physicaly tired but mentaly awake can really be a bother sometimes.

Exhuasted, he flips the pillow over and takes the blanket off for a moment. Instintly he feels loads better. No matter how high one may crank up the ac in summer, the cool side of the pillow is always welcome. Yami sighs in bliss and closes his eyes.

A scream minutes later shoots his consiousnes back to him full force. He leaps out of bed wondering who in the world is in his new home. Yami picks up his baseball bat and cautiously peeks out of his room. Another pained scream sounds. Yami's heart starts beating harder and faster in his terror. He hears the sound of a bed creaking and sobs. What the hell?

"AHHH! LET ME GO!" A stranger screams. Any fear he felt melts and he runs to the sorce of the sound. At the bedroom, Yami pauses. All of the noises have disappeared. Beyond confused, he opens the door. No one is there. Slowly, Yami retreats.

Am I hearing things? He asks himself. A quiet sobbing reaches his ears. "Why," the stranger asks from the bathroom. "Why did he hurt me?" The shower starts. Yami hears the weeping esculate a little at the water. He creeps by the door and is surprised at the steam coming from the door crack.

"H-hello?" He calls. Suddenly a shadow passes right through him and opens the door leaving the teenager with a icy cold feeling. Yami closes him eyes when he hears a sickening wack with a low moan soon after. The cold returns a few moments later and the young adult realises he is alone once more. He walks into the bathroom expecting the worst. The only thing wrong is that the showerhead is still running.

He looks out the window and stops breathing. Outside, a shadow seems to be digging a hole in the ground right where a very large rose bush was planted. Phantom dirt flies through the air and disappears before it hits the ground again. Yami stares with wide eyes as the ghost kicks the body into the hole. He briefly remembers a flash of light and a train roar as he faints and falls to the floor.

How would you feel, if you relived your worst nightmare every night?

Autumn: And CUT! Dang, writing always makes me feel better.