October 31, 2010. Longview, Texas
"Cory, come on." Shawn said, tugging on his friends sleeve. "It's not going to hurt you. Don't be a wuss."
Shawn and Cory were standing outside the old Stonebreaker's home, the moon glowing eerily on the charred remains of the upstairs floor. The brown grass swaying slightly in the cold night breeze. The dried leaves that still remained on the old willow tree in front of the porch rustled.
Cory stood there, arms crossed and a suspicious expression on his face. Shawn had been trying to convince him to go into the Stonebreakers' house, which he sensibly declined, and by looking at the house itself didn't regret doing so. However, despite his constant refusals, Shawn had still managed to drag Cory there, and now he was standing in front of the old house that held so many secrets and sparked so many rumors. Cory bit his lip nervously and glanced at his watch. It was five till midnight.
"Come on," Shawn was still tugging at Cory's sleeve, "you're being a baby. There's nothing there."
"If there's nothing there, what's the point of going in?" Cory snapped.
"Oh, dude. You're being a buzzkill. It's Halloween, and this is supposed to be scary."
"Can't we just go TP some guys house instead?"
"No." Shawn said with finality. Cory sighed, knowing it was no use arguing with Shawn. He had already been dragged out here in the cold, dead middle of the night. Who was it going to hurt, anyways? There was nothing in the house, contrary to popular belief. Ghosts don't exist, neither do demons or monsters. Cory knew that much, at least.
Cory untwisted his arms in defeat and waited for Shawn to go inside first. No matter how well he knew that ghosts didn't exist, there was no way Cory was going in first. Shawn gave a lopsided grin and nearly ran up the steps in excitement. Cory trailed behind him, dried leaves crunching beneath his feet. Shawn pushed open the door, it's hinges creaking loudly, revealing a gust of air colder than the wind outside.
The room was dark, despite the bright rays of moonlight casting over the floor, shadows colored the walls and floors a deep, endless black, giving Cory an idea of why no one had ever stayed here. The boys stepped inside, the room engulfing them into the darkness and adding their forms into the consistent shadows littering the room. The musky air smelled like dust and mold, stinging the boys noses. Shawn stepped further into the room, Cory trailing close behind. Cory decided to leave the door open in an attempt to bring more light into the shadowed room, but after he was ten feet from it, the door swung shut, making him jump.
"Shawn," Cory began, shivering slightly, "I think we should go." The shadows on the walls seemed to become deeper and darker, making the scene look twice as erie.
Shawn merely shook his head and grinned. "Why? We just came in. What should be so scary?"
Cory gave Shawn an incredulous look and glanced back at the door. "Well, first of all: The door just slammed itself. Second: Have you, just by chance, seen how creepy this room is?" Shawn looked back at Cory, amusement etched on his face.
"You're just scared." Shawn teased.
"As a matter of fact, I am," Cory snapped. "I want to leave."
"Fine. Go," Shawn said nonchalantly over his shoulder. Cory strode over to the door, jiggling the doorknob.
"It's locked." Cory started to panic slightly.
"Damnit, Cory," Shawn sighed, reluctantly walking back over to the door and jiggling the knob as well. The door remained shut, trapping the boys inside. Shawn glanced around the room hurriedly. He looked over at the shattered window, thinking of how it would make a great escape if things were to hit the fan. Truth was, Shawn did think there was something in this house, and deep down he was scared. People had said so many things about this house to him, and he believed them. Shawn turned around to look at Cory, who once again had his arms wrapped tightly around his torso, shaking, wide-open eyes fleeting around the room to discover anything suspicious or dangerous.
"I told you it was locked," Cory stuttered.
"You don't say," Shawn snapped back, annoyed. He took a step further into the room and stopped. Footsteps thumped above his head where everything was nearly burnt to a crisp. They were continuous and loud, like whoever was up there was making no effort to be cautious of falling through the charred floor. Who would be up there, though? Shawn thought. There was the small possibility that he hadn't considered, which could be a cop. A lot of people might want to come here to beat the rumors about how no one who had come here ever came out, especially on Halloween. People like Shawn and Cory. What would the police be doing on the inside, though? Why aren't they guarding the outside?
Cory backed against the wall, breathing heavily and eyes round. "I-I don't want to be here, Shawn," he stuttered quickly. "I want to go home. Now." Shawn was shaken as well, but he was determined to go forward and take a risk. He doubted that there would be a cop up there, and the whole point of this trip was to see if any of those rumors were true. Shawn took another step forward.
"Come on," Shawn said, "let's go upstairs." Cory protested constantly while Shawn stepped up the staircase leading to the upstairs floor, the walls becoming blacker with every step. Cory sighed and bit his lip, hesitantly following Shawn up the charred staircase and down the hall. He stopped behind Shawn, who was frozen to the spot in a doorway and looking over the black and dusty remains of the room that used to be there.
"Shawn?" Cory asked, wondering why his friend was so eager to come up here, then to just stop now. "Shawn, what's wrong?"
"It's on fire," Shawn gasped. Cory looked around the room. Everything was black and burnt. Nothing was on fire.
"What?"
"The room's on fire!"
"Nothing's on fire, Shawn!" Cory was concerned now. "Look!" Cory ran into the room, trying to show his friend that the room wasn't burning anymore. "It's not on fire, Shawn! See? I'm fine, aren't I?"
"You're on fire!" Shawn yelled. Cory knitted his eyebrows together in frustration, silently laughing at Shawn.
"I'm not on fire, man." Just as Cory said it, though, his arm started to feel hot, as if it were burning. He gasped in pain. Shawn yelled, watching his friend writhe in pain. Cory looked at his arm, still feeling as though it were on fire. There was no flames, but the sleeve began to singe, crawling up the cloth and leaving red marks along his arm. Cory let in a sharp intake of breath and ripped the singed cloth from his arm, tossing it on the floor where it simultaneously erupted into flames. He examined his red-streaked arm, where the burning sensation still remained, crawling up his back and down his legs, making him gasp and shudder in pain.
"Cory!" Shawn yelled, watching the flames engulf his friend. He ran into the room which, only to him, was illuminated by the crackling, orange flame. He stopped before Cory, who was groaning and shaking from the flames that he couldn't see. The intense pain and heat made Cory drop to his knees, clutching his face and screaming bloody murder. Flames engulfed every inch of Cory, his screams of agony and fear joining the deafening crackling of the fire.
Cory keeled over onto his back, skin charred and clothes smoldering. His colorless eyes were glazed and smokey. The flames that were rapidly climbing the walls ceased and disappeared. The room returned to it's original, burnt state, looking as though it had not been on fire only moments before. Shawn fell to his knees next to Cory, his cries of horror replaced by wet sobs of agony.
Shawn sat there for what seemed like forever, sobs racking his body as he stared at the blacked form of Cory. No matter how much he wanted to, he knew he couldn't sit there all night crying over his friend. Shawn stood up, giving Cory one last, long look before he ran out the door and down the stairs, stumbling hazardly on each step. He ripped open the now unlocked door and ran outside.
Running, Shawn reached the police station. He burst through the double-doors and grabbed the attention of every policeman in the vicinity. Shawn began to sway slightly. One of the policemen rushed over to his aid before he fell onto the tiles.
"What's wrong?" the policeman asked.
"He... My... C-Cory..." Shawn stuttered. "H-He's dead."
"Who's dead? What happened?"
"Cory... It's all my fault."