misfit: sorry it took me so long to update, I've bee nreally busy lately but I haven't forgotten about the stories
The phone rang. Jace sat up straight, his eyes wide and glazed his head pounding. He grasped at his chest with his hands and when he felt the sting come from his left hand and his bare chest with his right he remembered where he was and that the phone was ringing. He stood up, sweat beaded across his thin body. He looked out the window and saw it was either midnight or some time later; it was pitch black except for moon, which made the sweat draped across his ribs sparkle with an ominous shine. He ran his right hand over his body again, wiping off some sweat and walked on weak legs to the kitchen. The stove was off and the phone was still ringing. He walked over to the small table where it sat and wondered who the hell could be calling. Maybe it was the morgue calling him to come down and identify his parent's body. He managed a sick chuckle as a wave of fear overtook him for a second. Although his dream was fading already he had a second where he had an image of a muscular man with some kind of helmet on his head, he shook it off and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" His voice, weak and still doused with sleep asked the person on the other line. Nothing. He waited a few seconds before asking again, "Hello? Is anybody in there?" He asked, waiting for a reply. A clear blank void waited at the other end of the line and just as je was about to hang up a wave of static burst through the line, sending sharps crackles and harsh loud beeps unexpectedly into Jace's unprepared ear. He almost dropped the phone but didn't as he struggled to regain his hold on the receiver as he yelled loudly into it hoping whoever was on the other end was listening.
"What you sick fuck? Is this your idea of a joke? What's wrong with – "
A voice. A small, fragile, weak female voice, whimpering through the static.
"Jacen …… away ……… Silent Hill, you ………stay far aw……evil …… death ……don't……"
This time Jace dropped the phone, it emitted a hissing sound as the static at the other side cut off as quickly as it had come, leaving Jace alone with that voice covered in thick static emissions ringing in his ears, leaving a vocal equivalent of a footprint in his mind. Jace let out a shallow shaky breath. The first thought that came to his mind was the rational one; it was a joke. This was some elaborate plan or joke or something by some screwed up teenagers with nothing better to do, or better yet this was all some misunderstanding that was just some other girl's voice. Hell, he'd admit to anything; he was drunk, he was crazy, he was still asleep, he was tired, to anything but the fact that the call he had just received was real and for him.
He hung up the receiver and looked at the phone for a few more seconds, waiting to see if it would start ringing again and when it didn't after 2 minutes he let out a deep slow breath. He turned and began walking towards the kitchen. He grabbed a glass off the shelf and could have sworn to god he heard something behind him, something like … scrapping?
He turned around, half expecting to see something standing tall, dark, and deadly behind him with some sort of huge weapon and with a helmet on his head, swinging his huge knife at Jace.
He shook his head, it was just a long night he was probably getting sick and right now all he wanted was a glass of water. He turned on the tap and let the cold water run for a few seconds, letting it turn from a murky grey to a slightly clearer grey and when it was as clear as he believed it was going to get he ran the glass under the tap. As he felt some of the cold and dirty water miss the rim of the cup and wash down his hand he thought about what had just run through his mind, why a giant knife? Why not some other random large weapon? He didn't fully know how or why he thought of that knife but he knew exactly what it looked like and the more he thought about it the more he thought he could hear it's sound behind him, screeching against the floor, calling to him.
He turned, his heartbeat racing so loud and hard that he thought he could hear it bouncing back at him from the walls. No, it was just in his ears but still he felt like it was going to burst out his chest at any given second and explode. He managed to make it to one of the bar stool like chairs that sat around the island in the middle of the 'kitchen' and sat down. He could barely pick up the glass of water without spilling it, his hands shaking violently. The apartment was covered in thick darkness and he suddenly wished he had turn on at least one light
Jace was the kind of person who would never admit to anybody that he was sacred, not of anything and not to anybody, even himself. He was raised hard and he learned that there was nothing to be scared of, there are no monsters in the closet, no boogiemen under your bed and when you turn off the lights nothing is going to come up behind you and hurt you. He stopped sleeping with a nightlight when he was three. He would never run to his room, turn on all the lights and then hide under the blankets until he fell into some safe sort of darkness. He was Jacen H. Elvers and fear wasn't something he could handle.
So he sat, as a man can sit on a deserted island, sitting in the kitchen of his shitbag apartment, watching the dark shadows move across the wall, although he was the only person in his apartment and he had all the movement of a statue, and he told himself that they were really nothing until he almost believed it. Jace was used to not sleeping so he was barely tired, letting himself drift every now and again, his arms on the countertop. He watched and waited, and hoped. Sometimes he'd talk to himself, and he would tell himself he wasn't sitting there in the dark watching shadows because he was scared, he could never tell himself that.
Finally after hours of sitting and watching with wide eyes the first pink rays of sun began to show through the curtain less window of his living room- kitchen and he could stand up and walk back to the bedroom, all the events of the night slowly leaving him as if it were all a bad dream and as he laid back down into his bed, pulling the thin sheets up his neck he hoped that wouldn't remember the image that had haunted him all night; that monster with that huge knife waiting just behind him, bringing up his sword to slice through his neck.