August 3rd 12:28 a.m.
Angela jumped from her seat and the safety of Ben's arms, staring at the board and her friend in disbelief, shock and fear. "Jessica Stanely, why did you bring that?!" Growing up a minister's daughter, Angela believed in the power of the Ouija board. Just being in the same room in it, unmasked and waiting to call on its first visitor, was sending shivers of dread down her spine. Ben stood next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and backing them away even further. He too could feel the power and, though he never truly knew whether or not he believed that a Ouija board was anymore than a sleepover game, he knew that he never wanted to take the risk. Jessica shrugged and gingerly laid the board on the floor, it's new laminate contrasting disturbingly with the worn floors.
"You can't go to a haunted house without one," she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, characterized with her signature eyeroll. "It's in the rules or something." Never taking her eyes off of it, she carefully pulled her hair into a ponytail, preparing herself. On either side of her, Mike and Tyler exchanged raised eyebrows before unconsciously scooting closer to the board. The trifecta formed a small circle it, shutting out Ben and Angela.
"Come on, Ang." Ben whispered, gently guiding her around the circle. "We don't have to participate in this." He deftly guided his girlfriend toward the stairs, ignoring his friends catcalls and digs. Angela was quiet, as soon as the board was out of her sight, she glued her eyes to the floor allowing Ben to lead her. The grand staircase was in surprisingly good shape, having been protected from the elements. Still, severe neglect and age caused the couple to carefully navigate their way up, testing each step before committing to the climb. Beneath them, the rest of their group had fallen into whispers, heading into an entirely different world as the couple escaped to safety in the upper floors of the house.
The first thing Angela noticed about the second floor, was that each door was open and then, upon further investigation, each room was completely empty. Where the bottom floor held an eeriness that was almost a reminder that life had once thrived and then died here, this floor was completely devoid of all feelings. It was stagnant, stale, and held a nothingness that was more suffocating than it was soothing.
The calm before the storm, Angela thought, pulling herself even closer to Ben. They didn't speak as they slowly made their way down the hall, to the next staircase, each affected by the void that engulfed the floor. The stairs to the third floor were smaller than the others, but seemed to have been more affected by time. Each step held tiny holes- Termites, Ben noticed as he subtly moved Angela to more stable part of the step- and creaked under the weight of intruders. By the fourth step, the couple knew that logically it would be unwise to continue their trek and they should just leave the third floor alone.
And yet, they couldn't find the will to turn back. Never looking back, never speaking, but knowing that they should, the couple continued up the stairs drawn by some invisible force.
The third floor held one room. In the past it had served many purposes. Sometimes it was a game room, sometimes it was a sitting room, and sometimes-and most recently- it had been a sanctuary. The empty room had once been covered wall to wall with books, a cozy second-hand blue couch had sat in the the center of the room, flanked with two lamps that casted a warm red glow over the room. More often than not, books had been stacked beside the couch, set aside for later, and papers were scattered over the floor-homework that was forgotten and neglected amongst the literature. Occasionally, amongst the academia, someone would find a short story or two, a burst of creativity that had to be tamed and tied to a sheet of paper in an instant before it was lost forever.
And when the paper could not contain it, the attic did.
Without even realizing it, the couple had turned from the barren room and stared at the entrance to the attic. Ben reached up and carefully pulled the ladder down, coughing as a cloud of dust billowed around them. Angela wrapped her arms around herself, gazing up into the darkness of the attic, suddenly feeling cold.
"I don't think we should go up there." She whispered, not looking away.
"Probably not." He answered her. But they would. They had to. Something about the atmosphere that dripped through the opening, released for the first time in decades. It was denser and darker than the rest of the house. It wrapped around the couple, pulling them toward the attic. They were caught in the ghost of the house.
They had to go into the attic, whether they wanted to or not.
Ben climbed first, verballing noting which rungs were rotten through and pulling himself past them. As soon as he pulled himself over the ledge, Angela was following him taking into account the warnings he had given. With only two rungs to go, Ben reached through and hooked his arms under hers and pulled her into the attic, not wanting to take the chance of her falling from this height. Immediately entering the space, both Ben and Angela felt as if a cold vice were constricting around their chests pulling them deeper into the room. Ben pulled Angela close and flickered the light of the flashlight around the room, taking in their surroundings.
The walls were shelved and heavily adorned with paintings. The couple gazed in amazement. Where the rest of the house was barren and devoid of life, the attic was oozing with a thrive energy that lived in the art that had, for some reason, been left behind. Each painting stood out for a different reason, whether the color contrast or the subject, the technique or the simplicity.
Ben could not take his eyes off of a painting, sitting toward the edge of one wall, that depicted a fiery conflagration that grew from the heart of paper doll. Though the flames utterly consumed the doll, leaving nothing but ash, the small glimpse of the dolls blank face left Ben with a sense of satisfaction, as if the doll was fine with its destruction, as long as its power was known. Angela was fixated on a canvas further into the room that depicted layers upon layers of color, as if the artist had simply let paint drip and run over each other until the entire canvas was covered in a chaotic organization of hues. It wasn't upon further investigation that Angela noticed, hidden between the layers was a quote: "I burn, I pine, I perish."
While Ben and Angela were exploring the various canvases in the attic, below their friends were making one last attempt at using the Ouija board.
"I swear to God, if you guys move it again I am leaving." Jessica huffed, glaring at the boys who smirked at each other, having enjoyed their prank on her. The look of astonishment, fear and triumph that had crossed her face when either boys had subtly moved the piece was enough to suffer her wrath when she learned the truth. Even Mike had risked a night without sex to see it.
"Oh come on, Jess… Do you really expect this to work?" Mike asked, rolling his eyes and shoving her shoulder playfully. Her answering glare was enough to send him back into position, two fingers on his side of the planchette. Jessica quickly checked that the flashlights were clearly illuminating the board before taking a deep breath to center herself. Jessica placed her index and middle fingers onto the cursor Tyler made himself comfortable, watching the board with his pen in hand, his notepad resting on his lap.. The group sat in silence for a moment, their eyes closed, concentrating on what they wanted to happen, opening themselves up to the house. Slowly, Mike and Jessica added equal pressure, moving the pointer in a circle "warming up" the board as the instructions said.
They rested the pointer over the G and waited for a breath.
"If there are any spirits here, this is a safe place." Jessica paused, concentrating on the questions she wanted to ask Isabella Swan. "We have a few questions, if you are willing to make contact."
Nothing happened for a moment before the planchette slowly began to move jerkily toward the bottom corner of the board. Jessica whispered under her breath to Mike, asking if he was pulling her leg again. His equally wide eyes was all the answer she needed as the pointer hovered over HELLO.