Specter in the House?

TW: Violence and disturbing content

October 10, 2016

10:12 p.m.

Isai was hyperventilating, sobbing, praying and pleading all at once as he huddled in his bathroom. Curled protectively into a ball, still holding his laptop, freaking out at even the slightest sound. He was trying not to panic and failing miserably.

"Oh, God, would you please hurry up?!" he screamed at Abate.

"I'm on ChatRoulette right now. I'm getting somebody," Abate assured him. "Just hang in there, okay?"

"Howdy, partner," said a cheery voice on the CR site.

"Hi, can you hear me?" asked Abate.

"Loud and clear."

"Listen—uh—I'm in need of help, big-time. Uh—something is happening, and you need to call law enforcement."

"What—what's the emergency?" asked the ChatRoulette guy.

"I was chatting online with some friends, and then some creep started harassing us and plucking us off one by one. One friend is being attacked right now."

"Do you know who the attacker is?"

"No, but he calls himself LisRl2015 online."

"My God, we're dealing with a hacker," the CR guy muttered under his breath. "Martha? Honey? Call the police; there's a hacker on the loose!"

The woman identified as Martha came into the shot. "Is it you who called us?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. My friend's being attacked, and he's scared out of his mind."

"You look scared half to death yourself. Don't worry, you and your friend are in good hands."

"Thank you," Abate sighed gratefully. "Isai, they're calling the authorities now."

"Please, hurry!" hiccupped Isai.

"Hello?" they heard Martha speak into the phone. "My name is Martha Lowell. A young man on webcam has told me and my husband that his friend is in danger and needs assistance right away. Location is…" She told them where Isai's residence was located. "I take it that your average response time is around 10 to 15 minutes. We're gonna need you to do better than that. Thank you, goodbye."

"God bless you, Mrs. Lowell. God bless you," gasped Abate.

"Is there anyone else in danger?" asked the husband.

"My other friend. This hacker is messing around with our power, our computers—even our printers and then forcing us to reveal our secrets," said Abate.

"I'm Martin," said the husband.

"Martin? I'm Steve."

"Say—aren't you the fellow who plays Melee?"

"Y-yeah. I'm Steve Abate."

"I've been to most of your tournaments, and I must say, you were exceptional with Luigi," said Martin.

"Thanks, Martin. I practiced and mashed buttons till my hands swelled up," Abate said proudly. "Man, let me tell you about the time…" Before he knew it, he was rambling about Melee victories and losses past and present, a defense mechanism to keep him from panicking.

"So—what do you do, Martin?"

"I cosplay and host online tournaments," said Martin.

"And his favorite game is Minecraft…" Isai broke in. "Sweet J—s, I'm about to be done in by a specter in my house!"

"Isai, help is on the way," Abate assured him.

"I just spoke to the dispatcher," said Martha. "They should be at your friend's residence in five minutes."

"Okay, thank you. Thank you," said Abate before disconnecting ChatRoulette.

Isai was now grasping the handle of his bathroom door as he looked into the camera. He'd begun to calm down a little. "Well?"

"The police are coming, Isai," said Abate. "They should be at your house inside of five minutes. You're going to be fine. We're all gonna be okay here."

"Why is he doing this?" croaked Isai. "Why?"

"Whatever the reason, the police will find out," Abate said soothingly.

Isai had just succeeded in pulling himself together when—

Never Have I Ever—defaced Luigi's grave.

"Oh, God, no!" Isai curled up against the door. "It wasn't me! L, that wasn't me! I swear! Please, no!"

"Luigi's grave got defaced?" Eddy asked in disbelief.

With the seconds ticking down, Isai made a panicked plea to his innocence. "L! L, please! It wasn't me; I'm not lying! You know I'd never do that! Make him stop! Why does he keep doing this?!"

"Isai, for the last time, I want you to take a deep breath and get a grip on yourself," said Abate. "We're gonna get through this. L, Isai didn't do anything! For God's sake, stop playing games with us!"

The timer hit zero and was then replaced with a chilling message: Goodbye, Isai. ;)

Isai's feed began to freeze and disappear.

"Oh, my God," gasped Abate. "Oh, my God, Isai? Isai! Isai, no! Just run, Isai! Run for your life!"

Isai's feed flickered on and off, showing him screaming in terror and brandishing a straight razor, and then struggling against an unseen force.

"Isai?" called Abate.

"No!" Isai screamed in a voice filled with pain and affright. "Help me! Somebody help me! NOOOOOOO!"

He rolled out of the frame as the sounds of struggling continued. And then his feed disconnected.

"Isai?!" barked Abate. He slammed his desktop and cursed. "Where's a Poltergust when you need it?"

An incoming call notification from Isai popped up. Abate clicked on it, anticipating the worst.

"Isai? Are you all right? If that monster hurt you, I swear…"

Isai's shrieking face filled the frame, blood and steam pouring out of his mouth. His clothes had been torn off his body, and it looked like his hands were bound behind his back. Then, his body spasmed violently, his eyes began to roll back into his head, and his struggles ceased.

"Oh, my God!" bellowed Abate. "This isn't happening!"

On the upper right corner of his screen came a notification that Isai had added a new photo. He clicked on the notification.

When the photo loaded, Abate felt bile rise in his throat. Isai was naked on his bathroom floor, his wrists and ankles bound, bruises and burn marks all over his body, face nearly beaten in. A curling iron, still smoking and still plugged in, had been lodged inside of him.

WHEN UR FRIEND GETS [BLEEPED] IN THE [BLEEP], the caption above the photo read in block letters.

Now it was Abate's turn to start hyperventilating, struggling to string a coherent sentence together. "Eddy, I…"

"I'm here, Steve. I'm here," Eddy said in a gentle tone.

They stared at each other via their feeds before both of their lights cut out.

Abate leapt out of his chair, running blindly, laptop still in hand. "Oh, God, help us!" he wailed. He didn't get far before stumbling and crumpling to the floor.

He sat there, on the floor, choking back sobs, listening to his wild heartbeat. On the other end, he could hear Eddy breathe heavily. Icy sweat coated Abate's body, he trembled in every limb, and the strength was leaving him in a rush. He actually didn't think he would live much longer.

"Hello?" he asked in a small voice. "Is anybody there?"

He was answered by loud jingling from his desktop. Abate looked down at it and uttered a choked sound of relief. "That—that was an alarm I set for tomorrow," he explained to Eddy. "The camp I volunteer at is going on a field trip."

Eddy laughed almost hysterically. "Oh, Stevie. Stevie."

"Eddy—do you hate me?" asked Abate.

"No—I could never hate you," Eddy tearfully responded. "You're the best friend and doubles partner I ever had!"

"You really mean that?" breathed Abate.

Eddy nodded. "We're in this together, for better or worse."

"I'll make it up to you, whatever it takes," vowed Abate. "I swear I will make this up to you!"

Yeah, like you made things up to your other friend, LisRl2015 broke in.

"What are you talking about?" Abate wanted to know.

Don't play dumb with me. He counted on you to be there for him. If you had, then he'd still be alive today.

"You're not pinning this on me! I did everything I could!" Abate said hotly.

…but, you failed him, and tonight, you and Eddy are gonna answer for it.

"Steve," Eddy said urgently. "Steve, I think it's him. It's got to be him."

You'd best start believing in ghost stories, Stevie—you're in one!

"Oh, dear Lord," whimpered Abate. "I think it's him, too."

Now, typed the user finally revealed as Luigi's ghost. I have one last question for you.

"What is it, old pal?" Eddy asked as cordially his shaky voice would allow.

Which of you uploaded that video? The video that ruined my life?

Say WHA-AT?