The hallways of Lakeside Apartments were dark, dank, and full of the smell
of mildew. All around Simon, eerie sounds he could not start to comprehend
echoed through the halls. Extremely cautious now, Simon flashed his light
on every door, and tried every handle. At every door he came to, the knob
was locked or the door was broken and warped, but sounds of the evilest
nature rang from within.
Simon's breathing was now barely above a whisper, though his lungs and heart seemed to be working overtime. With his hand shaking, the light of the flashlight bounced around the dark corridors, making shadows dance along the walls.
As Simon passed room 154, the most unholy sound came from within. It was as if a child, a young child, was being ripped apart slowly, limb by limb, tendon by tendon. Simon nearly ran at the mere sound, but curiosity getting the best of him, he instead moved his other hand toward the door and placed it on the knob.
He turned it.
The door opened.
The noise stopped.
Simon's eyes were wide with horrific curiosity now. There was no more blood-curdling scream now, but there was no noise, either. All the eerie noises from before had stopped, and Simon couldn't even hear the beating of his own heart, nor the sound of his breathing. With shaking steps, he walked into the apartment.
The room was in shambles. The bland tan wallpaper was peeling in some places, gone in others, and covered thick in red crust that Simon could only guess was blood (though he hoped it wasn't). Across from the entrance hallway (if you could really call it that), there was a small kitchenette with a half-demolished refrigerator, cabinets with doors missing and handles hanging on by one peg, and a sink filled with cracked and broken dishes and glasses.
The living room/common area was not was it used to be, by Simon's guess. All that was there now was a couch without cushions, and a large chunk of the back missing. A lot of cotton and a spring or two were strewn about the floor, and it looked pretty new, as it didn't have things growing on it, and it wasn't stained by anything. Parallel to the couch was a TV. This is what got under Simon's skin.
The television was on, but it was only snow. Still, it was on. The only thing that made this relative to being troublesome is that when Simon tried to flip the lights on for the room, they didn't work: there was no electricity in this room, at least.
Cocking his head to the side, Simon walked over to the television. As he reached down to turn the dial on the box, the sound of quick footsteps came from behind him, and then the giggle of a little girl. Simon swung around, only to find nothing.
"What the.?" he said to himself, and then, just like before, the giggle came again. Simon pinpointed it coming from the bedroom to the right of him, so as silently as possible, he made his way to the frame of the bedroom door, and peeked inside.
Meeting his face at the doorframe was a little girls, maybe just ten years old. In a fit of terror, Simon jumped back, landing on the cushion-less couch. The little girl laughed softly and skipped up to him.
"Wh-who're you?" stuttered out Simon.
"Who wants to know?" inquired the little girl.
"I do!"
"Who's I?"
Simon sighed, seeing he was getting nowhere. Standing up from the couch, he looked down at the girl. "My name is Simon Lawson. My car broke down on the freeway just outside of this town. Could you direct me to the phone, little girl?"
The girl seemed to become offended at this. "I am not a little girl! My name is Amber. Amber McCoullah."
"Nice to meet you, Am-"
Before Simon could finish what he was saying, the little girl giggled again, and ran back into the bedroom. Simon followed suit, but when he entered the bedroom (though it had no bed, no nightstands, and no dressers), he found the girl to be gone. On the floor, though, was a small note. Picking it up, Simon opened it shakily and read:
'Dear Michael, I have thought about you endlessly since you left. I wonder when will you come back to me? When will we continue with the life you so rudely tore apart?
I am not mad at you, though.
I could never be mad at you.
All my love,
Marcelle
PS: When you do return, Jules wants to have a word with you on your behavior.she might do what she did to Yvette, so keep on your toes. Oh, if she saw me writing this.'
"Who are these people?" said Simon to no one, and of course, didn't expect an answer. What he heard couldn't actually be considered an answer, but it shocked Simon all the same.
From the living room, a low moan permeated the thick air that hung within the apartments. Spinning around, Simon could make out the hulking figure of.something. Really, though, Simon wasn't in the mood to find out what it was, so taking the chance, he ran quickly to the door, but found it locked. Raising an eyebrow, he barely had time to think before the massive figure of another monster was upon him.
Gulping, Simon raised the steel pole, which he had tucked into his belt so both his hands would be free. The monster gave him the chills, even if he had a weapon. Its head, if you could call it that, was horse-like, and devoid of any eyes or ears, but had flaring nostrils and a large, gaping, toothless mouth. Its body was more man-like, with arms and legs, hands and feet, and tan, leathery skin.
Quickly, Simon raised the pipe and conked the monster over the head with it, a loud ping ringing through the apartment. The monster staggered back, but didn't go down like the last monster Simon had encountered had. Taking the chance, Simon strafed around the monster, and ran into the second bedroom.
*Bad idea,* Simon thought to himself.
There was no means of escape in the second bedroom, and as the monster lurched into the room, releasing another low moan, Simon had the clear fear of dying. That's when he noticed the pistol lying on the bed behind him. Picking it up, and hoping to whatever higher power would listen, he pulled the trigger.
There was a shot. With that reassurance, Simon released five more bullets into the monster. On the last projectile, the monster crumpled into a heap. Breathing heavily, Simon quickly stepped over the monster and went back to the door.
It was unlocked.
Bursting out of the room like a bat out of Hell, he closed the door and barricaded it with a chair he found (conveniently) sitting next to the room. Sighing, he looked around, and then the high-pitched shriek that he had first heard when he was at the gas station, where he saw that first monster, began to ring through the apartment hallway in a cacophonous chorus.
Simon dropped to his knees, his hands shooting up to cover his ears. He looked up to see five or six of the monsters coming at him, and he knew he couldn't fend them off with just a steel pipe. The pistol had no more bullets, and he didn't have any extras.
With a gasp, he knew that this, this moment in time, would be the last he ever had. Wishing he had come to this town, he watched as the world went black, and he became unconscious.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------
Simon awoke with a start to find himself in a small restaurant booth, his pistol and lead pipe lying harmlessly on the table next to him. Bars of golden sunlight were streaming across his face, and he had to shield his eyes to make sure he could see.
The restaurant was empty, except for him. The walls had tacky wallpaper that was plastered with the restaurant chain's name. It was a bit dusty, but otherwise pretty new looking. On the table, along with his weapons, was a newspaper. Picking up the paper, he stared at one of the articles, a little ways down the front page:
"Man Commits Suicide, Mysterious Activity Blamed"
On Friday, January 5th, a one Mike Lawson drowned himself outside the Blanche Woods, which is just another incident in the recent string of mysterious occurrences. Officers speculate that the suicide was ritualistic, as the cuts were all in demonic symbols and in areas of the body not usually cut.
Lawson's wife, Alice, was not available for comment.
Simon scratched his head at this. The newspaper was dated January 5th, 1998, but the paper looked brand new. Shrugging, he folded it back up and placed it in the magazine rack of the restaurant, before grabbing the lead pipe and pistol and walking toward the front door.
"You aren't going to go back out there, are you?"
Simon jumped and spun around in one fluid movement.
"Who are you?" he said warily.
A tall woman, with short black hair that bobbed down to just past her ears, walked out from the shadows. She had very pale skin, and a very wry smile to match her shady, silver-blue eyes. Her clothes were nothing more than a long, hunter green dress, frilled with matching lace and a brooch.
"I am Julia Portson."
"I'm. Simon Lawson," he stammered out. He was still a bit stunned that he was even alive in the first place, but at least there was someone else in this circus sideshow of a town.
Julia nodded at Simon. "A pleasure. Now, heed my warning, and do not go outside. The monsters crawl from every room."
"I.I need to find a phone. I need to get home!" said Simon.
"Why not stay here? It is safe here," Julia persuaded.
"I can't stay in a fast food joint!"
"Oh. yes.."
"Now, if you please, I need to go find a phone," he said, blatantly annoyed, and started for the door again.
"Well, perhaps you should check Brookhaven Hospital!" Julia called after him.
Simon turned and looked at her, nodding. "I think I'll do that, thank you."
As Simon left the restaurant, a small, devious smile slipped on to Julia's lips.
"Let the debacle begin."
Simon's breathing was now barely above a whisper, though his lungs and heart seemed to be working overtime. With his hand shaking, the light of the flashlight bounced around the dark corridors, making shadows dance along the walls.
As Simon passed room 154, the most unholy sound came from within. It was as if a child, a young child, was being ripped apart slowly, limb by limb, tendon by tendon. Simon nearly ran at the mere sound, but curiosity getting the best of him, he instead moved his other hand toward the door and placed it on the knob.
He turned it.
The door opened.
The noise stopped.
Simon's eyes were wide with horrific curiosity now. There was no more blood-curdling scream now, but there was no noise, either. All the eerie noises from before had stopped, and Simon couldn't even hear the beating of his own heart, nor the sound of his breathing. With shaking steps, he walked into the apartment.
The room was in shambles. The bland tan wallpaper was peeling in some places, gone in others, and covered thick in red crust that Simon could only guess was blood (though he hoped it wasn't). Across from the entrance hallway (if you could really call it that), there was a small kitchenette with a half-demolished refrigerator, cabinets with doors missing and handles hanging on by one peg, and a sink filled with cracked and broken dishes and glasses.
The living room/common area was not was it used to be, by Simon's guess. All that was there now was a couch without cushions, and a large chunk of the back missing. A lot of cotton and a spring or two were strewn about the floor, and it looked pretty new, as it didn't have things growing on it, and it wasn't stained by anything. Parallel to the couch was a TV. This is what got under Simon's skin.
The television was on, but it was only snow. Still, it was on. The only thing that made this relative to being troublesome is that when Simon tried to flip the lights on for the room, they didn't work: there was no electricity in this room, at least.
Cocking his head to the side, Simon walked over to the television. As he reached down to turn the dial on the box, the sound of quick footsteps came from behind him, and then the giggle of a little girl. Simon swung around, only to find nothing.
"What the.?" he said to himself, and then, just like before, the giggle came again. Simon pinpointed it coming from the bedroom to the right of him, so as silently as possible, he made his way to the frame of the bedroom door, and peeked inside.
Meeting his face at the doorframe was a little girls, maybe just ten years old. In a fit of terror, Simon jumped back, landing on the cushion-less couch. The little girl laughed softly and skipped up to him.
"Wh-who're you?" stuttered out Simon.
"Who wants to know?" inquired the little girl.
"I do!"
"Who's I?"
Simon sighed, seeing he was getting nowhere. Standing up from the couch, he looked down at the girl. "My name is Simon Lawson. My car broke down on the freeway just outside of this town. Could you direct me to the phone, little girl?"
The girl seemed to become offended at this. "I am not a little girl! My name is Amber. Amber McCoullah."
"Nice to meet you, Am-"
Before Simon could finish what he was saying, the little girl giggled again, and ran back into the bedroom. Simon followed suit, but when he entered the bedroom (though it had no bed, no nightstands, and no dressers), he found the girl to be gone. On the floor, though, was a small note. Picking it up, Simon opened it shakily and read:
'Dear Michael, I have thought about you endlessly since you left. I wonder when will you come back to me? When will we continue with the life you so rudely tore apart?
I am not mad at you, though.
I could never be mad at you.
All my love,
Marcelle
PS: When you do return, Jules wants to have a word with you on your behavior.she might do what she did to Yvette, so keep on your toes. Oh, if she saw me writing this.'
"Who are these people?" said Simon to no one, and of course, didn't expect an answer. What he heard couldn't actually be considered an answer, but it shocked Simon all the same.
From the living room, a low moan permeated the thick air that hung within the apartments. Spinning around, Simon could make out the hulking figure of.something. Really, though, Simon wasn't in the mood to find out what it was, so taking the chance, he ran quickly to the door, but found it locked. Raising an eyebrow, he barely had time to think before the massive figure of another monster was upon him.
Gulping, Simon raised the steel pole, which he had tucked into his belt so both his hands would be free. The monster gave him the chills, even if he had a weapon. Its head, if you could call it that, was horse-like, and devoid of any eyes or ears, but had flaring nostrils and a large, gaping, toothless mouth. Its body was more man-like, with arms and legs, hands and feet, and tan, leathery skin.
Quickly, Simon raised the pipe and conked the monster over the head with it, a loud ping ringing through the apartment. The monster staggered back, but didn't go down like the last monster Simon had encountered had. Taking the chance, Simon strafed around the monster, and ran into the second bedroom.
*Bad idea,* Simon thought to himself.
There was no means of escape in the second bedroom, and as the monster lurched into the room, releasing another low moan, Simon had the clear fear of dying. That's when he noticed the pistol lying on the bed behind him. Picking it up, and hoping to whatever higher power would listen, he pulled the trigger.
There was a shot. With that reassurance, Simon released five more bullets into the monster. On the last projectile, the monster crumpled into a heap. Breathing heavily, Simon quickly stepped over the monster and went back to the door.
It was unlocked.
Bursting out of the room like a bat out of Hell, he closed the door and barricaded it with a chair he found (conveniently) sitting next to the room. Sighing, he looked around, and then the high-pitched shriek that he had first heard when he was at the gas station, where he saw that first monster, began to ring through the apartment hallway in a cacophonous chorus.
Simon dropped to his knees, his hands shooting up to cover his ears. He looked up to see five or six of the monsters coming at him, and he knew he couldn't fend them off with just a steel pipe. The pistol had no more bullets, and he didn't have any extras.
With a gasp, he knew that this, this moment in time, would be the last he ever had. Wishing he had come to this town, he watched as the world went black, and he became unconscious.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------
Simon awoke with a start to find himself in a small restaurant booth, his pistol and lead pipe lying harmlessly on the table next to him. Bars of golden sunlight were streaming across his face, and he had to shield his eyes to make sure he could see.
The restaurant was empty, except for him. The walls had tacky wallpaper that was plastered with the restaurant chain's name. It was a bit dusty, but otherwise pretty new looking. On the table, along with his weapons, was a newspaper. Picking up the paper, he stared at one of the articles, a little ways down the front page:
"Man Commits Suicide, Mysterious Activity Blamed"
On Friday, January 5th, a one Mike Lawson drowned himself outside the Blanche Woods, which is just another incident in the recent string of mysterious occurrences. Officers speculate that the suicide was ritualistic, as the cuts were all in demonic symbols and in areas of the body not usually cut.
Lawson's wife, Alice, was not available for comment.
Simon scratched his head at this. The newspaper was dated January 5th, 1998, but the paper looked brand new. Shrugging, he folded it back up and placed it in the magazine rack of the restaurant, before grabbing the lead pipe and pistol and walking toward the front door.
"You aren't going to go back out there, are you?"
Simon jumped and spun around in one fluid movement.
"Who are you?" he said warily.
A tall woman, with short black hair that bobbed down to just past her ears, walked out from the shadows. She had very pale skin, and a very wry smile to match her shady, silver-blue eyes. Her clothes were nothing more than a long, hunter green dress, frilled with matching lace and a brooch.
"I am Julia Portson."
"I'm. Simon Lawson," he stammered out. He was still a bit stunned that he was even alive in the first place, but at least there was someone else in this circus sideshow of a town.
Julia nodded at Simon. "A pleasure. Now, heed my warning, and do not go outside. The monsters crawl from every room."
"I.I need to find a phone. I need to get home!" said Simon.
"Why not stay here? It is safe here," Julia persuaded.
"I can't stay in a fast food joint!"
"Oh. yes.."
"Now, if you please, I need to go find a phone," he said, blatantly annoyed, and started for the door again.
"Well, perhaps you should check Brookhaven Hospital!" Julia called after him.
Simon turned and looked at her, nodding. "I think I'll do that, thank you."
As Simon left the restaurant, a small, devious smile slipped on to Julia's lips.
"Let the debacle begin."
