THE BANE OF POWER
THE UNICORNS OF DEATH
Part 1
it's funny how day by day,
nothing changes.
but when you look back,
everything is different.
1
Questilsa hated pineapples.
She didn't know why. She just hated it.
It was kinda funny. She wasn't afraid of giants. She wasn't afraid of trolls. Not globins. Not even pigeons which seemed all had the same hobby of pooping on Questilsa's head.
She just hated pineapple.
So when she found one at the ground of her doorframe, she scowled at it.
"I disapprove your existence, Pineapple," she told it.
So originally she was sprawling in the bed in her tiny apartment and spinning a wicked-looking knife in her hand in boredom.
This knife was her ten-year-old birthday present from her father. It was really wicked-looking. Like, the sort of mommy-that-shiny-sharpy- is-glaring-at-me-with-its-imaginary-eyes-I-am-dying sort of wicked-looking.
And when her doorbell rang, she was suspicious.
She was sure that she didn't order pizza. She had dumped her family when she was seven and hadn't seen them afterwards, so no chance of them visiting all in a sudden. She of course had friends, but most of her friends enjoyed killing her.
So she picked up her mommy-that-shiny-sharpy-is-glaring-at-me-with- its-imaginary-eyes-I-am-dying knife and walked towards the door. She was prepared for many weird things. A little girl screaming trick-or-treat in an UnHalloweenFestival. Someone's corpse collapsing inside. A five-feet-long Scorpion happily trying to kill her by whipping its tail towards her neck. Or a vampire farting.
This had all happened before. The vampire farting one was actually the one that brought her the closest to death. Nobody warned her how horrible was a vampire's fart. It smelt like… well, vampire fart.
Back to the pineapple.
So when Questilsa opened the door, she saw the pineapple lying on the ground with a happy face drawn on it by a marker.
"I give you ten seconds to run, Pineapps," she told it. The pineapple stubbornly refused to answer.
She glanced around and sighed. "Come out, Zacks."
A girl seemed to appear from nowhere and was grinning at Questilsa with a mommy-that-shiny-sharpy-is-glaring-at-me-with-its-imaginary- eyes-I-am-dying sword-and-knife sheathed at her belt. Questilsa remembered giving her it the day she met her.
"Use it wisely," Questilsa had said.
"Did you send me this deadly weapon of Pineapple?" Questilsa now demanded.
The girl outside smiled. "You didn't attack it immediately. This is an improvement, my friend."
Questilsa glared at her.
"So are you letting me in, Pineapple Slayer?"
She sighed and moved. "Come on it. Did anything happen?"
The girl kicked the pineapple in and shut the door. Her laughing face melted and was immediately, though reluctantly, replaced by a serious one.
"There was a Shape-Shifter that I spot yesterday. It was with a girl and they went to Disney."
"Did the girl get eaten?"
"No. I killed it before it made a move on the girl. But it was strange. Shape-Shifter wouldn't go to Disney with its prey. It would kill its prey immediately after it located it."
"Is the girl human?"
"Definitely. But this wasn't the strangest part."
"Then?"
"I was Veiled when I killed it. But the girl saw me."
"She saw you?" Questilsa scowled. "Are you sure that you were Veiled?"
"If I weren't Veiled, I would be dragged to prison already. No. Nobody but the Shape-Shifter and the girl saw me. The Shape-Shifter was a Demon. If it didn't see me, I would be worried. But a human that saw me? That is the weird part."
"Are you sure that she saw you?"
"Yes. She watched me kill the Shape-S and she screamed. She looked at me in eyes."
Questilsa fell silent. The other girl sat down on the bed and stared out of the window.
"Is she a Witch also? Did you see her arms?"
The other girl looked down at her own arms, which was tattooed with Runes. Her Rune of Speed was fading. It would take a few days before it returned.
"No. Her arm was clear. And she was already somewhere like thirteen or so. If she is a Witch, the Marks will already have came. And a Marked Witch wouldn't be stupid enough to hang out with a demon."
"Or blind enough," Questilsa bit her lip. "She cannot be an Elf, right?"
Her friend glared at her.
"Fine. Fine. It would be too obvious if she was an Elf. First, you have done the Follow-up, right? I don't want to mess things up."
"Yes. A Mist-man had taken the Shape-Shifter's place. Things are not messed up, but I am pretty sure that the girl's life is."
"Don't bother about that first. You followed her, right? Are you sure of where she lived?"
"A hundred percent sure," the girl nodded
"I wish I could go with you, but I am pretty tangled up with the Unicorns."
"Yeah, the Power One had pulled its strings tight. The demons are pretty close to finding it."
Questilsa patted her shoulder. "Write me a letter everyday and keep me updated. Two days without letters, and one of us is in trouble. Deal?"
"Is it a deal?"
"No. Stay here tonight. I have pretty much to fill you up with, too."
"As long as you cuddle the pineapple to sleep."
Questilsa rolled her eyes.
The little girl locked eyes with Janelle.
She was very young, about four or three years younger than Janelle. They were separated by the crowd in Disneyland, but Janlle couldn't peel her eyes away from the girl.
Something about the girl was wrong. There was something dark and dangerous about her. The girl herself looked shock, as if a lamb suddenly found itself surrounded by lions.
Beside Janelle, Max, her best friend, peeked over Janelle's shoulder. "Wha' ya lookin' at?"
When he followed her gaze and saw the girl, he bolted.
The girl broke eye contact with Janelle and darted after Max. Something in her hand was shimmering in the dark. She threw it at Max.
The knife sailed past all the people and found its target. It hit Max's back squarely. Max didn't make a sound and simply disappeared. Janelle screamed.
The girl's head snapped to her, her second knife flashing out in her hand.
Janelle ducked behind the crowd, gasping. Max. Max. Did that girl kill him?
"What is it?" someone touched her back softly, "why did you scream? Someone pretended to be ghost and scared you again?"
"Can't… can't you see that? The girl. She… she killed Max! My gods, she killed Max," she wounded her fingers into that person's sleeve, "lord, Max is dead. Oh my. He's dead."
"What are you saying?" he clutched her shoulder, "dear, you are trembling. What girl? Who is Max?"
Only then did she realize she still had no idea whom she was talking to. She looked up and found herself looking at another boy around her age with a pretty nice face.
"Uh, sorry," she let go of him, "I… my friend… he… I don't know, he…"
"Sorry for what?" Nice Face Boy glanced at her.
"I don't even know you and I was shaking you like crazy."
"I do agree that you are crazy, but not the first part. So stop acting like crazy."
"What… the first part?"
Nice Face Boy exhaled, "you know me, Janelle. I have been your friend for like, a year. What the heck is wrong with you?"
Janelle glanced around her frantically. She glanced at the crowd, where Max had fallen. Everybody was walking forward patiently. No chaos, no screams. No sign of someone-is-being-murdered-brutally-over- here.
"I am fine," she stood up straight.
And fainted.
Janelle's eyes snapped opened. She stilled in her bed, a hand pressed over her chest as if it could slow her wild heartbeat. She waited until her heartbeat slowed down enough for her to sigh.
It had been almost a month since that girl killed her best friend, Max.
They had been in Disneyland. It had been an amazing day, until the girl killed Max.
Max had been replaced by the Nice Face Boy, whom she later found his name as Daniel. Max's life had been completely replaced by Daniel. As her best friend, as the math subject leader, as Max's parents' son.
She had asked a few classmates about Max, but they just looked at her like she was crazy. Soon, she realized that nobody but her remembered Max, so she decided to give up asking to avoid being looked at funny. But she knew he was real. He must be real.
She once thought that everyone she knew had forgotten about Max all in a sudden and had fake memories about Daniel. It sounded crazy, but it seemed right to Janelle.
But later, she started to think if she was going mad. She didn't tell her family. The last thing she wanted her parents to know was that their weird daughter was going even weirder, if that was possible.
And, yeah. Janelle knew she was weird.
Why?
Well, at first, you need to know that she was glad that she was born in a peaceful and warless country. And yet she always felt trapped, trapped in this world, this life. She longed to be free from restraint, to be someone whose life is always at risk.
Sometimes, she didn't know what she was exactly living for. Just to live a day. Another day. Another day. Until it seemed that life was an eternity of imprisonment for her. She was afraid of boredom. She always was. It almost seemed that boredom was a jail for her.
She sometimes dreamt that she was on an adventure like a fictional character, not a boring life like this one, go to school go back home do homework do revision go to sleep go to school go back home do homework do revision go to sleep go to school go back home…
She didn't let others know of her strange mind. She already knew she was kind of crazy and didn't want to be weird to others. But her classmates weren't blind. They knew that she was weird, when she sometimes gazed out of the window as if in some sort of trance. Or when she laughed when everyone was completely quiet. Or when she played with her pens for an hours. Or when stared at you with her eyes without blinking for a minute.
Her eyes were quite famous. They were bright blue and were always burning with some sort of fierce fire inside. People would love to have eyes like hers, but her eyes always seemed to have the ability to see through you and into your mind, digging all secrets from your heart. Her eyes seemed to speak a lot of words, but you never knew what exactly the words truly were. They could be either you look pretty or I want to cut all your insides out.
So, such famous eyes.
Janelle was born in a normal family, with two annoying parents and an even more annoying older brother, Jason. She always felt as if Jason was her little brother, as he was quite immature, comparing to her.
Her brother was quite popular, however. Jason Lambert was sixteen, two years older than Janelle. While Janelle was very short, he was pretty tall, more than a head taller than her sister. Something must be wrong with their DNA. He could be very annoying, but Janelle must admit he was quite a good brother and was always there for her, even though she was so strange and he was so stupid.
However, being so strange wouldn't help her from bullies.
So a few idiots enjoyed throwing their stuff at her. Sandwiches, staplers, water bottles and pretty much everything. One of them once threw a condom at her once. She wasn't really pleased about it and she naturally hit the condom-thrower. The condom-thrower wasn't pleased either, and the condom-thrower sincerely asked his friends to murder her. So when condom-thrower's friend #1 #2 #3 #4 chased her in an impolite way, she had to run in an unladylike way and told them something that her mom wouldn't suggest her to speak. The result was that she had gotten to the hospital.
So things went pretty normal for the next few weeks. Her life was exactly:
Wakes up—goes to school— dozes off in lessons—gets yelled by teachers—dozes off again—being yelled at again—pisses off some idiots—runs back home—sleeps— nightmares time
But sometimes, she could see the girl who killed Max. She thought she was having illusions at first, but soon she realized she was real. However, nobody seemed to notice her. Sometimes she would look out of the window in her room at night and she would see the girl, far far away. She could imagine the girl's dark eyes burning into her. But when the girl noticed Janelle, she would stepped into the shadows near her and disappeared into the darkness.
For more than once, Janelle tried to approach her. But the girl would be long gone before she reached her.
One day, she and her brother were riding a bus together to school that day. Jason had his nose buried in some notes as he would have a quiz in the first lesson and he had barely started studying, though Janelle sensed that his heart wasn't in it. Janelle soon also noticed the girl at the back of the bus and with her dark eyes fixed on her. Janelle looked away, trying to ignore the girl's gaze, which seemed almost burning a hole through the back of her head.
"Janelle?" suddenly Jason asked.
"Yeah?"
"There's the school prom next week. You going or not?"
"Can I not answer you?" Janelle was serious.
"No."
"I am serious."
"Ditto."
She sighed. "I think so."
"Do you mind, um, going there with, uh, me?"
"What? You?"
"Oh, come on, Janelle. Just brother and sister. Nothing special about it!"
"Everything is special about it, Jason. People intend to call it incest. I don't like being called incest. You don't like being called incest. Nobody like being called incest."
He rolled his eyes.
"By the way, where are your friends? You have like, ten girls lining up for you."
"Ah. There is a little… misunderstanding between my friends and me," he changed the subject as quickly as he could. "Are you coming or not?"
"Look, I am already too weird to make people think that I can be even weirder to go there with my brother weirdly, but…"
"Look, I don't think I understand what you are saying."
"Just, nobody actually knows me at school, so I don't care. But you… you have a whole bunch of friends. If you go to prom with me… well, you'd probably got laughed at for months."
He fell silent at that. Then he said, "better than having no date or not going there at all."
"What's wrong with you and your friends, anyway? I know it wasn't simply some misunderstanding. Yesterday, I saw them jabbing their fingers at you and laughing and you walked away with your shoulders hunched like Phils."
Phils's name is short for Philomena. She hated this name and made others called her Phils.
And she was an epileptic.
Jason opened his mouth and shut it, then opened again and shut it, and opened again and shut it. Then he said, "areyoustalkingme."
"Firstly, since I have nobody to talk with at school, I spend most of the time watching everyone else. And secondly, I am your sister. You can trust me."
Jason sighed. "So, this would be a few days ago. We went to this tower, like, sixty stories high, and…"
"But you are afraid of heights!"
"Yeah, that's the problem, and, well, I threw up on the top of the tower. I got laughed at, of course. The most painful thing is that they shot a video with it," he covered his eyes with his hands.
"Oops."
"Stop your pathetic oops. And now they are daring me to bungee jump and if I don't, they will post it on YouTube."
"Well, that pretty sucks. Just let them. Nobody's gonna watch, anyway."
"Yeah, around half of the school is gonna watch. No pro. And I said some really silly things when I vomited."
"Like…?"
"Mama."
"Oh."
"Stop your pathetic oh too."
Janelle grinned. "So, you have to either bungee jump or they will send that mama video everywhere? Well, both are bad options."
"Oh, shut up," he groaned into his hands and said something like "wutcunIdo"
"What?"
He didn't say anything.
"Look, Jase, first, you cannot bungee jump. No way. I don't want my brother dies of heart attack or humiliation. I don't care which one, but I won't allow it."
"That means you are suggesting me to let them post that video?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"They are laughing at you because you are timid and are afraid of height, right? Then do something brave. Something much braver than bungee jump."
"Something that is even braver than bungee jump? Skydiving?"
"No, dumbass. Something that we all want to do, but no one in history, at least, in the school, has the nuts to do it. Think, Jason."
"Some tips?"
"13."
"Oh bloody hell, NO."
Of course everyone knew what was 13. It was a house a few blocks away from their school and its address was no.13. It was a creepy house with doors barely hanging with hinges here and there and no-leaf-trees' branches scratching the shattered window and the walls creaked and dead brown grass around the yard and the paints cracking and black cats going in and out of the house and a swing moving slightly all the time of the wind… well, you got the meaning.
Nobody had lived in it for decades and there were rumors like someone died in there and its ghost didn't pass on and stayed here and waiting for revenge and stuff, blah blah blah. But the scariest thing was that there was nobody living there, but sometimes there were screams coming out from the house. Someone called the police, but when the police went in, there was no sign of any living creatures except a rat. Then some random kid ran in there once and came out screaming and the family moved away and nobody had seen them ever since. Around six years ago, Janelle had dragged Jason to the yard of the 13 and spent the night watching the house and somewhere like two in the morning, there was really a howl and the sound of something shattering. Jason had dragged Janelle back home, though she still wanted to stay and see what was going on.
But anyway, it was the 13, the haunted house, the house of screaming, the house of death, ghost headquarters and another whole bunch of names.
"And you want me to go in."
"Exactly," Janelle nodded. "Nobody can say that you are timid if you go in and, well, come out sane and alive and without any pieces missing."
"Gods, you are so reassuring," he shuddered."But no. Absolutely no."
"Why not?"
"No no no no no no no no no. My name is No. My best friend is No."
She neglected him. "I could go in with you, if you really are going in."
"Then they would say I was hiding behind my little sister."
"Leave that to me. Can you do it?"
Jason sighed and turned back to his notes.
9 o'clock at that night, Janelle and Jason sneaked off and arrived at the 13. Three of his friends were waiting.
A huge bulky boy called Ben raised an eyebrow. "You didn't mention that your little sister is lagging along too."
"Oh, I am going to shoot a video for him, that's all," she held up a camera. "Say cheese."
"You sister is really weird," Ben said.
"Oh, she always is."
Janelle glared at him and he shrugged.
"So… you are going in there for an hour?" Ben's girlfriend, a blonde called something like Zippor something. Her makeup was so heavy that Janelle could see the lip gloss and eye shadow even in the dark. She wore millions of necklaces and wristbands and Janelle could hear the shrill sound of the beads and chains brushing one another.
"Yes," Jason nodded firmly.
"And you will post this video instead of the mama-vomit one," Janelle added.
Jason whirled at him. "You."
"This is for getting back of agreeing I am weird."
"Lambert, I am already starting to like this weird sister of yours," the third one, a pump boy grinned. "I will hang out with you some day, if you two didn't run out screaming like three-year-olds."
"This Friday evening," Janelle winked back and turned to Jason. "You ready?"
Jason shook his head.
"Aw, come on," she grabbed his arm, holding up the camera, and stormed inside 13.
Janelle held up the camera and turned it so it was facing her. "Hello, whoever that is watching. Welcome to the 13, the haunted house, the house of screaming, the house of death, ghost headquarters. My name is Janelle Lambert. And this—" she flashed it to Jason "—is my brother, Jason. Say something, Jase."
"I wanna go home," he moaned.
"Aw, I will need to cut that part out," she grinned and filmed all around. "So this is the house we have been all freaking out with. This wasn't really that scary. Just like an old, grandma-old house. It look scarier from the outside. And here we are! The stairs, come on, Jason, let's go up."
"I'd rather stay here," he moaned again.
"Alright, you can stay here. I will go up on my own."
He followed unwillingly, clearly not wanting to be left alone.
This place was the sort of house you felt in the 19th century, with statues (dusted with webs), carpets (so dirty that you cannot even sees its original color), wooden floor, walls, and staircase (cracked). There were tables, chairs and cupboards around. There were some plates and cups in the cupboard, but some was shattered on the ground. Two chairs were broken.
"Wegottagohome," Jason tugged at Janelle's sleeve, but she just pulled him upstairs.
There was a shattered window at the top of the staircase and Janelle peaked out. She saw Jason's three friends out there, clearly uncomfortable.
"Hey guys, out there!" she yelled. "We are still alive!"
Jason grabbed the back of her shirt. "Shut up! What if someone… or, something, is, you know, here?"
Janelle moved so her face was in the screen. "My baby brother is scared. And, by the way, you aren't going to stay as those assholes friends after you get out, right? They don't worth to be your friends."
"Well, I don't have others friends."
"Me?"
"Not you."
She bounced away from the window and Jason followed.
"Let's go inside one of the rooms."
"Oh gods, no," Jason groaned and Janelle yank one door opened. There was nothing inside but a dusty bed and a black cat, standing under the moonlight.
"Hello, kitty," Janelle held out a hand and the cat leapt off from the window.
"Ouché," she winced and walked to the next door and yanked it opened.
And found a girl with dark eyes staring right into hers.
She screamed and threw herself backward, hitting Jason, who screamed and fell back, and the two hit the ground, a tangle of limbs.
They scrambled up, their backs against the wall and stared at the girl. She was still standing at the frame of the door and a long knife was dangling loosely between her fingers. Her eyes were intense on the two panting children, but she didn't say anything or move. In fact, she moved so barely that Janelle couldn't even see her chest rising and falling.
"I have seen you before," Jason whispered. "You… you are the one who killed Mrs Anderson's cat and has been following me!"
"She has been following you? But… she is following me! And she killed Max!"
The two turned to the girl, who was still standing there, motionless.
"Who are you?" Janelle hissed.
The girl stared at them for a few more seconds. Then she stepped forward, her feet startlingly silent against the floor while it creaked under the Lambert's shifting feet.
She stopped in front of Janelle, her face just a few inches from Janelle's. Though the girl looked no older than eleven, she was still tall, the top of her head coming to Janelle's eyebrows.
Janelle stepped back.
The girl spoke for the first time. "You are dead." Her voice was too shrill to be an adult, to deep for a child.
"What?" Janelle stared. The girl was dead serious.
"You shouldn't be in here," she said again. "Get out before they kill you."
"Who kill us?"
"Get out now!" she suddenly yelled and seized Janelle's arm, who shrieked and tried to wrench her arm out of the girl's grip. When she couldn't, she hit the girl's face with her torch.
The girl didn't make a sound, but her grip loosened. Janelle jerked back, grabbed Jason's shirt, and tore down the staircases.
Then a hand grabbed the back of her shirt and both of them were yanked back. The girl dragged both of them back and pulled them to their feet.
"It's too late. They are already down there," she hissed.
"Let me go!" Jason screamed.
The girl really did let him go, but she only darted to the stairs, threw something down, leapt back and grabbed Jason's arm again.
A guttery scream came from below.
"What is that?" Janelle cried out.
"Enemies," the girl pulled them backward.
"They might be Ben and Zippor and the other boy!" Janelle screamed.
The girl stopped. "You have friends in here?"
"They are waiting for us outside, but they might have gone in when they heard us screamed! Now you have killed them, haven't you? You…"
"They were already killed," the girl shook her head and jerked open a door violently. Behind the door was another staircase that led upstairs. "Go to the attic, lock the door and lock the window. Go!"
"I am not taking orders from you, you bitch…"
She shoved them inside the door and shut it, leaving the two of them sitting in the darkness.
Jason jumped up and slammed onto the door. "Hey! Heyyyyyyy!"
Janelle flashed her torchlight up to the darkness. "I saw a door up there."
"I'm not going anywhere that the bitch called us to go to."
"Well, that seems like our only option, right?"
"We can stay here."
"There may be a window at the attic. We can see if the others are fine or not from there," Janelle replied.
Jason ran up instantly. Janelle followed.
They found the stairs ending with a door. There was a little pull beside the handle. Jason pulled, but the door didn't budge. He growled in frustration.
Janelle tried and pulled. It wouldn't move. Then she pushed as hard as she could.
Then she tumbled into the room.
Jason helped her up. "I am not going to trust these signs anymore."
Janelle smiled and looked around. She found a window and ran to it.
When she peeked outside, she saw no sign of the others three.
"They might have ran away," Janelle patted Jason's back, trying to comfort him.
"Then what did that creep girl said about them being killed?"
He sat down on the floor and Janelle looked around. There was nothing in this place except a dusted table. Janelle pushed against the door to barricade the entrance.
She returned and sat back down next to Jason. She had lost her bag and torchlight, but the camera, which she had tied to her wrist, was still hanging there. She raised it and found it had stopped filming at some time.
She played the video.
"Say cheese," she saw Ben and heard her own voice.
"You sister is really weird," Ben said.
"Oh, she always is." Jason's voice rang from the background.
The screen moved slightly. Janelle could imagine herself glaring at him and him shrugging.
"So… you are going in there for an hour?"
"Yes."
"And you will post this video instead of the mama-vomit one."
"You."
"This is to get back of agreeing I am weird."
"Lambert, I am already starting to like this weird sister of yours. I will hang out with you some day, if you two didn't run out screaming like three-year-olds."
"This Friday evening," a pause. "You ready?"
"Aw, come on," the image moved violently and when it stopped, it was already inside the House.
The screen moved again and it showed Janelle, who was holding it like a selfie. "Hello, whoever that is watching. Welcome to the 13, the haunted house, the house of screaming, the house of death, ghost headquarters. My name is Janelle Lambert. And this—" it moved to Jason "—is my brother, Jason. Say something, Jase."
"I wanna go home," he moaned into the screen.
"Aw, I will need to cut that part out," her voice laughed. "So this is the house we have been all freaking out with. This wasn't really that scary. Just like an old, grandma-old house. It look scarier from the outside. And here we are! The stairs, come on, Jason, let's go up."
"I'd rather stay here," he moaned again.
"Alright, you can stay here. I will go up on my own."
The scene moved up the stairs.
"Wegottagohome," Jason's voice again.
"Hey guys, out there!" Janelle's yell. The scene moved again and through a shattered window, three figures were standing outside. The scene zoomed in to them. It wasn't clear, but Janelle could make out the shimmering of Zippor's golden hair. "We are still alive!"
The scene shuddered. "Shut up! What if someone… or, something, is, you know, here?"
Janelle's head popped into the screen. "My baby brother is scared. And, by the way, you aren't going to stay as those assholes friends after you get out, right? They don't worth to be your friends."
"Well, I don't have others friends."
"Me?"
"Not you."
"Let's go inside one of the rooms."
"Oh gods, no," Jason groaned. A door was yanked opened. There was nothing inside but a dusty bed and a black cat, standing under the moonlight.
"Hello, kitty," a hand appeared in the screen, reaching for the cat. It leapt off from the window.
"Ouché," the scene moved again and turned to the next door. Janelle's hand yanked it opened.
There was a brief shot of a room with a bed and a table, then a scream from Janelle. The scene went wild and it was clear that Janelle had lost her grip on the camera and the only reason it hadn't fallen to the ground was because Janelle had tied it to her wrist.
The camera must be spinning wildly by this time, as everything in the scene was turning like crazy. But one thing was obvious.
Nobody was standing in front of Janelle and Jason.
Then the video clicked stopped.
Janelle looked up at Jason, who was also looking at her.
"Maybe… maybe it is only a coincidence that the camera didn't capture that girl," Jason reassured her, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "Maybe… maybe…"
"There is no coincidence in this world, Jason," she told him and replayed the video. Still, no sign of the girl.
"Wait," Jason called out suddenly. "Go back… and stop."
The scene stopped at the moment when Janelle flung opened the door where the creepy girl was standing. It wasn't clear, slightly blurred, but they could make out a clean bed, a clean table and chair and even a loaf of bread on the table. Clothes were hung everywhere. A few flashlights were placed around, lighting up the room with dim, pale light.
"She had lived here for quite a time already," Janelle scowled.
"Maybe…"
A sound of explosion reached their ears.
They shot to their feet at the same time. The door shuddered at the impact of the explosion.
Janelle shuddered and glanced out of the window. There was nothing that she could step on if she climbed down the house from the window. She took out her phone and handed it to Jason. "Call any of those three friends of yours."
He hit the buttons quickly, but the phone immediately hit the voice mails.
He cursed and dialed two mores. Straight to voice mails as well.
"Goddamn!" he hit the buttons so hard that it fell right out of his hand.
Janelle picked it up. The screen had cracked when it hit the ground and she couldn't turn it on. She shoved it into her pocket and turned to Jason. She didn't bother saying they will be fine because she knew they were not fine.
All she did was drew her legs up and hugged her knees tightly. Jason pressed himself against her and waited.
The hours of waiting was absolute agony. Once in half an hour there would be the sound of something smashing. It would be around four o'clock in the morning when things finally quieted down.
"Should we go?" Jason asked.
"If not now, when?" Janelle answered.
They pushed the table, which was barricading the door, away. Janelle pulled the door opened and peeked down. Nobody.
They crept downstairs and stopped at the door. Janelle pushed open a creak and peeked out. "Nobody's out there."
"Should we run or tiptoe?"
"Both."
She pushed open the door as quietly as she could and sprinted silently. Behind her, Jason was running like an awkward elephant.
She slid downstairs by the railing and raced to the door. She dashed outside and finally stopped when she crossed the yard.
Jason arrived a few seconds after, panting.
"Let's get the crap out of here," she caught his wrist and pulled, but he stopped her.
"What?"
"There."
He pointed at the ground. Janelle drew back a breath.
She wore millions of necklaces and wristbands and Janelle could hear the shrill sound of the beads and chains brushing one another.
On the ground was one of Zippor's wristbands.