Chapter One :: The Possession
Cell phones, a bathroom, three teenage girls, and a group text message. Larry Butz liked to think that he was a fairly easygoing guy, able to adapt to just about everything. The last hour, however, tested even him.
And where was he now?
It was a bedroom, though he was on the floor rather than the bed. Of course, it wasn't the first time he had ever slept on the floor. This was a pretty comfy rug though. There were two dressers and a nightstand with the ringing rotary phone and a cell phone on top of it. He took a few steps forward, still trying to process everything, simultaneously realizing he should answer the phone and the phone ceasing its constant ringing.
CRACK! The light bulb shattered, bathing the room in darkness. Larry screamed, pressing himself against the opposite wall. A few moments of silence passed. Nothing moved. Nothing happened. He let out a breath, starting to walk towards the nightstand.
The cell phone started ringing now.
He looked around, listening for the sign of anyone coming to answer it. Everything was quiet. Not a sound besides the ring of the phone.
He walked over to it, picking it up and flipping it open. "Hello?"
There was a raspy rattling, almost like someone was trying to breathe but had waterlogged lungs. When there had been silence for long enough that he was about to say hello again, there was a long sigh, and then, "Even in death, the salt remains." The voice had a dead, monotone quality about it, as if it had been expelled in a groan rather than breath.
"Uh, what? Hello?" But the dial tone had already returned, the caller gone.
Larry shut the phone, looking over his shoulder in paranoia. Where was this place? What did he mean, "the salt remains"?
What was going on?
He went to the door, testing the lock. The door swung open, almost of its own accord, and he crept out, looking around. It was still dark, but he could make out a door at the end of the hall. "Hello?" he called out, opening it.
It was a bathroom, complete with a toilet and shower. Tentatively, he flushed the toilet, a little surprised when it actually flushed, and perhaps more unnerved by that than normal. The sink worked too, though the shower didn't. He turned to leave, pausing when something moved to his left. He turned, looking out the window, when—
"DON'T IGNORE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
A man's face was pressed against the glass, though it was colorless and twisted into a horrifying scream. The hairbuns on the sides of his head were extended into long spirals, also white. In fact, the man was entirely white.
"Not another one!" Larry shouted, tripping as he ran out of the room and down the hallway. He didn't stop until he reached a closed door at the end of the L-shaped hallway, pulling at it in panic. The lock rattled, but didn't break.
Footsteps echoed behind him. Larry turned, coming face-to-face with yet another ghost, this one with a bowl of noodles overturned on his head. "Don't go in there," he growled, and before Larry could do anything, the man attacked, wrapping his hands around Larry's neck.
He thrashed, trying to get away from noodlebowl man, finally breaking the hold and gasping for air. He cowered against the door and the man vanished, leaving Larry alone and confused.
The door clicked, swinging open on its own again, and Larry darted inside, hoping for a respite. There was a short staircase, and it was dark, but he could see a flashlight in the dim light from the attic window. He turned it on and waved it around, lighting the boxes and the few dolls populating the room. He went to the nearest one, realizing as he came closer that it looked quite familiar. A short, portly nun in full robes reminiscent of Maya's. He picked it up, realizing too late that it was made of noodles. Slimy, cold noodles, stiff from the salt congealing on the surface. The base, made of plastic, had the inscription, "To my darling Bikini."
Bikini. The nun from that mountain. Why was there a noodle doll of her in this house?
Seriously. Who was so obsessed with the jolly woman that they made a doll of noodles in her likeness? The more he thought about it, the more his stomach churned.
"I can't do this," he muttered, beginning to back out of the room. "No way no way no way. Let me out of here." He fled back to the bedroom, perching on the side of the bed. "What's going on here?" he asked, glancing around warily. "I want to go home. Please, just tell me how to get home."
The cell phone rang.
He picked it up, almost disbelieving that the answer could be so easy.
"They will never betray. They will always be loyal." It was the same voice as before, rasping and growling. And, he realized, the same voice as the noodlebowl guy who had attacked him earlier. He screamed, dropping the cell phone.
On one of the dressers, something rattled and gave off a series of high-pitched giggles.
He screamed again, running back to the attic. Nothing bad had happened here yet. Nothing had chased him or popped up and tried to kill him, and yes, the Bikini doll was creepy, but it was tolerable as long as he didn't touch it.
He moved through the stacks of boxes, trying to find a chair or something to sit on and wait it out, eventually coming to a sliding canvas door. He opened it a crack, finding that something was blocking it from opening any farther, and peeked inside.
Oh god. Oh no. There was a man sprawled on the floor, three lines of red glowing like a beacon in the dark. Was he dead? Maybe he was just sleeping, Larry attempted to justify to himself, just too tired to go down to the bedroom. All of the creepy phone calls, all of the people, they weren't here for him, but for the sleeping man. He opened his mouth, shining his flashlight inside in an attempt to wake the man, but something fell behind him before he could. He whipped around, his light darting around the room until it fell on the single doll head on the ground. "Is that it?" he asked, laughing at himself. "I guess I just need to calm dow—"
High-pitched giggles erupted from behind him.
He stepped back, whipping around to see salt dolls crowded at the cracked door, rattling as they filled the small open crevice. He blinked, already starting to back away, and suddenly, noodles shot out, wrapping around the walls and shooting towards him.
He didn't need an invitation. He ran, hands cartwheeling out in front of him as he threw open the door and tried to shine the flashlight in front of him. The bathroom. The ghost was outside of the bathroom, pressed against the glass. It couldn't get in. He would be safe there. He would be safe—
Noodlebowl man shot up in front of him, hands wrapping around his throat again.
Nonononononononononono. This couldn't be happening. He had to get out of here. Had to get out of this house. What about his secret admirer? He would never find out who it was or why she had sent him that heart-shaped jewel . . .
The thought brought on a surge of adrenaline, and he got a hand between noodlebowl man's elbows, breaking the choke. The man vanished, and Larry rounded the corner, stopping short when he realized the door for the bathroom had completely vanished.
Two options. Go back and face the noodles or get phone calls and deal with rattling doll heads.
He chose the latter.
He slammed the door shut behind him, panting. The beam of the flashlight showed that he was alone, and he sank down to the floor. Talk about crazy. All of this, all of the ghosts and the dolls and the phone calls.
Speaking of phone calls, something was ringing.
He hesitated, looking at the cell phone in his hand, but it was silent. No, this was the rotary phone on the bedside table again.
He could just not answer. There had been a lot of weird stuff so far related to the telephones, and he wasn't really excited for his next chat with Noodlebowl man. Then again, the weird chats could be exclusive to the cell phone (which he had resolved to never pick up again; it didn't matter if the weird stuff was with him or the unconscious/sleeping dude, he didn't want to hear about it anymore). And it could be something good on the other line. Maybe his secret admirer was calling with the way out of this place.
He picked up the phone.
There was a soft giggle, not completely unlike the dolls', but gentler and more feminine. "Gotcha."
"Huh?" And then his brain completely caught up with his mouth. "Hey babe. You sound pretty. Maybe you and I—"
There was another of the girlish giggles, this time not over the phone but right behind him.
He turned, dropping the phone. Behind him was a woman, young and beautiful, with her hair in braids like a halo and a beatific smile. Butterflies fluttered around her, moving with her even as she took a few steps towards him. He swallowed the lump that was suddenly in his throat. "You, uh, are you an angel? 'Cause I think Heaven's missing one."
She shook her head, the smile still on her face. With her right hand, she held out the black magatama he'd woken without. "I think you're missing this."
His eyes widened. "You're my secret admirer?"
The woman took a few more steps towards him, until they were nearly nose-to-nose. "Yes. And believe me, we'll be together forever now." Her fingers closed around the magatama and suddenly, disembodied hands rose up out of the ground and moved towards him.
"W—Wait! Huh? What's going—?" The hands grasped his arms and legs, pulling him back against the wall as noodles started invading the room. They ran over his neck, reaching his face and smothering him with cold, slimy, salt-crusted noodles. He screamed, hoping that someone, anyone would come save him. The noodles invaded his mouth, and with a final wail, his lungs emptied of their remaining air. His body spasmed, hand dropping the flashlight, but resistance was futile.
The last thing he remembered was the sound of the rotary phone ringing mixed with the woman's soft, tinkling laughter.
A/N:
Shikola Krasno ::
Hey guys! Sooo I didn't write this:D. But we figured that since my chapters won't be showing up for a while it wouldn't hurt to note in a little early. Enjoying our cruel story thus far? Or I guess Canta's cruel story:/. Maybe I can help clarify a few things. For those of you who haven't played Calling (and I'm sure many haven't), this is NOT going to be in chronological order just yet. That may sound weird-and come to think of it, the Shin (Larry) chapter always seemed kind of unnecessary to me-but it's sort of used to set the tone. In our case it's used to show that, while this is still full of amusing cameos and comical moments (did you recognize everyone?) it's actually a dark story and it doesn't get lighter until the VERY end! I say "VERY" because, well, stick around;). Can't spoil anymore. There's at least one more chapter before I make my debut in this story. Only hint I'll give for that is that Godot fans should definitely stick around!
Melody Canta ::
Thank god for having a co-author who is a decent beta reader. Otherwise we might have had some very interesting things in this chapter and the next. Most related to the non-chronological order of this chapter. As Shikola mentioned, this isn't necessarily in chronological order, but I believe that this chapter and the next are the only two where there is an inconsistency (and you'll see it as soon as you read the next chapter. Believe me, while playing the game, I was lost for a while too). I'll point it out in the next chapter's author's note, in case you somehow missed it.
As Shikola sort of implied, this story started out in a very different place from where it's ending up. Originally it was going to be comical, but, uh, our natural inclinations towards angst and drama came out, I guess. So, while it'll still have some humor, it's going to be dark, dark, dark, dark, DARK. No worries though, right? We're still working to make sure it's enjoyable.
And we want to know what characters you recognize! Please tell us! I'm worried we're not giving enough context for some!
Anyways, next chapter is still mine. Sigh. I can't guarantee it being ridiculously fast, because The Awakening is a LONG chapter. But I'll have it up as soon as possible.
Read and Review?
