Where Nightmares Thrive
Chapter Three: Apparitions
There was another flash of lightening as Frank stumbled backwards, horror written on his pale face. The body was illuminated once more, and he let out a moan of anguish. He couldn't look away, despite the pain, and even when the lightening went away and the room went dark again, the image of Callie haunted his mind.
He could see her hanging there, her face ashen and taut against her cheekbones, her beautiful blonde hair floating around her lifeless face, almost silver in the flash, her eyes cold and staring, but unknowing. She had been beautiful…but in a horrible, scary way. It hadn't happened. He knew it wasn't true.
It wasn't possible. Callie wasn't anywhere near them; she didn't know where they were. How could she possibly have found them. But the lightning struck again and he saw the vision again. All reason and logic was ran out of his mind as he saw her body once more, elucidated by the storm.
"Callie!" he screamed, grief overwhelming him. "No! She's…she's…"
There was a sound behind him, and Frank instantly tensed. "Frank…"
The voice was cracked and hollow, with a malice and hatred so intense it cut through his bones like an icy knife. He shivered. Spinning around, he saw it coming toward him, its red eyes gleaming evilly. It stood over him; it was at least seven feet tall. The thing—whatever it was—was black and terrible, like a nightmare come to life. "She deserved what she got, Frank," it said.
Frank backed away, terror in his eyes. "W-what? Who are you? And what? No, she never!" He threw a wild punch in the creature's direction, hoping to silence it for good. His aim was off. The thing snickered and took another step forward.
"Think about it, Frank. She expected you to spend more time with her than your only brother…she was mean to him…she got what she deserved."
"N-no! It's not true!" Frank gasped. "She didn't—and she's not—"
He took another futile shot with his fist. It missed.
"You can't take me down, Frank. You could never hurt me. You love me too much."
"What? Who—who are you?"
"Think about it. Who is the one person you can't bear to see hurt? I would have had you all to myself, if it hadn't been for Callie Shaw. But now, you will never blow me off again to see her."
Suddenly, Frank knew what this was. He was horrified to think it, but he knew. "Joe?"
Out of the shadow, his brother fell. He landed face-down on the floor, unconscious. Despite his anger and fear at the moment, Frank dropped to his knees and turned Joe over. His face was white and pale, his blue eyes tightly shut. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat. He looked ill.
"Joe? Joe, are you okay?"
There was a groan, and Joe Hardy's eyes flickered open. "Frank? What happened?" He saw the look of pure horror on his brother's face and demanded, "Are you okay?"
"I don't know. Joe, what just happened?"
"I don't know…I…I don't remember anything that happened since you left me on the stairs."
Frank's eyes widened at this news. "Really? Nothing?"
"No. It's as if there is a big blank in my memory."
Frank related what had happened, his voice cracking. Alarmed, Joe looked up and then back down, an odd look on his face. When Frank demanded to know what was wrong, Joe answered, "Frank, I don't know how to tell you this, but…there is no body."
~Emachinescat ^..^