Chapter 5: Violent Gang Outbursts
The gang was unraveling. Since the night at Anna's apartment, they'd all felt it—the shadows, the whispers, the itching marks on their skin that felt like they were burned in. No one admitted it outright, but each one could see the madness simmering behind everyone else's eyes.
At one of their usual hangouts, a run-down warehouse where they could meet without prying eyes, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. The space, usually just a collection of busted-up couches and flickering lights, felt different—haunted, almost. The flickering bulbs cast long, eerie shadows, twisting the shapes of their bodies as if something unnatural lurked within.
"Bro, I'm telling you, we need to go back and figure out what the hell we stepped into," Julio muttered, pacing nervously, rubbing the bruise on his arm that wouldn't fade. "I can't sleep, can't eat, like... what kinda curse did we bring back?"
"Tú estás loco," Manny sneered, rolling his eyes. "You think I believe that crap? You got marked, so what? Means nada. I've been fine."
"Fine? You've been flipping out every ten minutes!" Raul snapped, tired of Manny's denial. "Look around, ese—everyone here's losing it. Something got ahold of us back there. You really think this is just in our heads?"
Manny's face darkened, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "I think y'all are weak. Letting some bad dreams get to you, like a bunch of niños scared of the dark."
Julio lunged, shoving Manny hard. "Oh, you think you're tough? Let's see how tough you are when this curse catches up to you!"
Before anyone could react, a low, guttural growl echoed through the room, making the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end. Everyone froze, looking around in panic. Shadows seemed to twist and curl, almost alive, filling the corners of the room.
"What the... did anyone else hear that?" Julio whispered, his voice barely audible.
Just then, the lights flickered again, dimming almost to black, and a scraping sound echoed from across the room. It was as if something was dragging a metal object along the concrete floor, slow and deliberate.
Manny took a few shaky steps back, his bravado fading. "Nah, man... nah. This isn't real."
"Oh, it's real," Raul muttered, voice dripping with fear. He was wide-eyed, staring at the shadows that seemed to shift closer.
Suddenly, an empty beer bottle flew across the room, shattering against the wall next to Manny's head. He flinched, stumbling backward, and a ripple of nervous laughter spread through the group, though there was no humor in it. It was the kind of laughter that bubbled up when terror was the only thing keeping you on your feet.
Then, without warning, something seemed to take hold of Julio. He let out a guttural scream, his eyes rolling back as he grabbed the nearest chair, hurling it across the room. It smashed into pieces, and Julio turned on the others, his expression a twisted mix of rage and terror.
"Get off me! Get out of my head!" he yelled, clutching his temples as if trying to claw something out of his brain.
Raul stepped forward, but before he could say anything, Julio's head snapped toward him, his face contorted, almost unrecognizable. "You did this!" Julio hissed. "You dragged us all into this nightmare!"
Raul backed up, his hands raised defensively. "Hold up, man! We're all in this together."
Julio swung wildly, catching Raul's jaw with a punch that sent him staggering. Raul hit the wall, shaking his head as he tried to clear his vision.
The others watched in horror, unable to move, paralyzed by the sense that something darker than rage was fueling Julio's outburst. His body convulsed as if some invisible force was tightening around him, twisting his limbs into unnatural angles.
Finally, he dropped to his knees, his breathing ragged. But just as quickly, he looked up, eyes dark and distant, almost as if someone else was staring through him.
"This ain't over," he growled, his voice layered with an eerie undertone. "It's only beginning."
The others exchanged glances, their terror palpable. They knew—each of them had felt it. There was no denying it now. Whatever this curse was, it had already sunk its claws into their souls, and it was not letting go.
As they stared at Julio, he slowly lifted a hand, pointing at each of them, one by one. "You're all marked," he whispered. "All of you."
A deathly silence filled the room, broken only by the distant sound of a faint, ghostly laughter—echoing, taunting, promising that this descent into darkness had only just begun.
The gang stood frozen in the aftermath, the air heavy with fear and confusion. Manny's tough-guy mask had shattered, and now he was staring at Julio like he'd seen a ghost. Raul held his jaw, rubbing the spot where Julio's punch had landed, but his pain was drowned out by the creeping dread in his chest. Nobody dared to speak, afraid that even the slightest noise might trigger whatever darkness had seeped into their lives.
Finally, Raul broke the silence, voice barely above a whisper. "What the hell just happened, man?"
Julio sat slumped against the wall, clutching his head. He looked exhausted, as if whatever had taken over had drained every ounce of strength from him. "I don't know," he muttered, eyes darting around the room like he was expecting something to come crawling out of the shadows. "It's like... something got inside me. Took over. Made me do things."
Manny snorted, trying to mask his fear with bravado, but his shaky voice betrayed him. "Nah, you just went loco for a sec. Happens. You probably just need to chill."
"Shut the hell up, Manny," Raul snapped. "Didn't you see it? He wasn't himself." Raul's gaze shifted to the shadows pooling in the corners of the room, dark as pitch, almost alive. "We need to get to the bottom of this. Whatever we brought back with us... it ain't letting go."
One of the younger members, Marcos, shivered as he leaned against the wall. "I've heard stories about this kind of thing, man. My abuela used to say that when you mess with certain things—when you go to places you don't belong—stuff starts to follow you. Spirits, demons... they latch on, and they don't let go."
"Your abuela?" Manny scoffed, but there was no real fire in his voice. "We ain't little kids telling ghost stories here."
"Nah, bro, maybe he's got a point," Julio muttered, his voice hollow. "Ever since we went to Anna's, I've felt... different. Like something's crawling under my skin."
The group went silent again, each lost in their own thoughts, their own fears. It was Raul who finally spoke, his voice hard and steady. "We need to figure out what's happening. Go back to the source. We need answers."
Marcos swallowed hard. "You mean go back to Anna's? Man, we barely made it out last time."
"Not just Anna's," Raul said, his gaze sharp. "We need to figure out what she was mixed up in, and how it ties back to us. Maybe Ali knows more than she's saying. If her family went through this, she might have answers."
Manny rolled his eyes. "So now you trust her? Bro, she barely knows what's going on herself."
Raul gave him a hard look. "She's connected to this, just like us. If we're all marked, then we're in this together, whether you like it or not."
Manny muttered a curse, shaking his head, but he didn't argue. The truth was, he'd felt it too—the strange dreams, the shadows moving in the corners of his vision, the feeling that he was never alone, even when he was by himself. He just didn't want to admit it.
Raul looked around at the others, his expression grim. "Alright, we regroup tomorrow. Bring anything you've noticed since we went to Anna's place. We're going to figure this out before it tears us apart."
One by one, they nodded, each man feeling the weight of the darkness pressing down on them.
As the group dispersed, each member left with a chill settling in their bones, the usual bravado and banter replaced with silence. Raul lingered in the shadows, his eyes distant, haunted. He couldn't shake the feeling that their time was running out, that whatever force they'd awakened was growing stronger, bolder.
Ali sat alone in her apartment, flipping through the collection of footage she'd recovered from the gang's hideouts and Anna's apartment. The grainy video played on her screen, distorted faces and eerie symbols flashing across the frames. She paused on a close-up of Anna's hands tracing a dark mark on someone's skin, the ritual's symbols flickering with an unnatural intensity.
"Who are you?" Ali whispered at the screen, as though hoping for an answer. But the only response was the hollow whirring of her computer. She knew Martine had warned her not to dig deeper, but she couldn't stop. She'd seen too much, and the visions of her family haunted her every night. She couldn't let this go, not when so many lives were at stake.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her trance. It was Raul.
"We need to talk," he said, his voice low and tense. "You're the only one who seems to know what's happening. Meet us tomorrow."
Ali hesitated, glancing back at the images on her screen. "And what makes you think I can stop any of this?"
"Because," he replied, "whatever's coming for us... it came for your family first. And you're still here."
The call ended, and Ali leaned back, clutching the phone to her chest. She couldn't help but wonder if her survival was a blessing or a curse. But she knew one thing for certain: she wasn't alone anymore. And whatever darkness lay ahead, they'd face it together.
The next day
The gang huddled in the back room of a rundown pool hall, the air thick with smoke and tension. Ali sat across from them, watching each of their faces as Raul began to speak.
"Look, none of us are strangers to trouble," he said, his voice steady, "but this... this is different. Since we went to Anna's, we've been haunted—physically, mentally, everything. It's like something's messing with us."
Ali nodded, leaning forward. "You're not wrong. This isn't just some ghost story. Whatever Anna was mixed up in, it's big, dark, and old. It's been around a long time, and now... it's locked onto all of us."
Julio scoffed, though his hands trembled slightly. "So what, we're just supposed to take it? Let it mess with us until we lose our minds?"
Ali's gaze hardened. "I don't plan on letting it win. But you have to understand—it's not just about fighting it. It's about knowing what it wants, and why it's after us."
Raul nodded, his eyes dark. "So, what's the first step?"
Ali took a deep breath, her mind racing through everything Martine had warned her about. "We're going back. Back to Anna's place. And this time, we don't leave until we have answers."
Manny muttered under his breath in Spanglish, shaking his head. "This is some serious locura, man."
Ali looked at each of them, her resolve unwavering. "It might be crazy. But it's the only shot we've got."
The room fell into an uneasy silence as the gravity of Ali's plan set in. Each gang member exchanged glances, their bravado replaced by a tension they couldn't hide. Raul finally broke the silence, letting out a sharp exhale.
"Fine," he muttered, gripping the edge of the table. "But we go in smart this time. We're not just wandering around in the dark. We stick together, keep watch, and no one plays hero."
Julio snorted. "Stick together? You mean stay within slapping distance in case this thing starts messing with our heads again."
Ali ignored his comment, setting a rough sketch of Anna's apartment on the table. "We'll need salt, candles, and some kind of way to keep a record of what happens. It's not about finding more footage; it's about making sure we see the truth, even if it tries to distort things."
Manny frowned. "So we're playing 'Ghostbusters' now?"
"More like 'Ghostbusters' with a death wish," Julio muttered, but the humor was forced. He looked up at Ali, his gaze hardened. "We're in, but if things go sideways, we don't wait for anyone. Agreed?"
Ali met his stare, her jaw set. "Agreed."
The next night
The wind howled around Anna's abandoned apartment, the air thick with something unnatural. Shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls as the group entered, salt scattered in a rough circle at the door, candles lighting the dark rooms with a feeble glow. Every creak, every whisper seemed amplified as if the house itself were alive, watching, waiting.
The group spread out in pairs, searching each room meticulously. Ali walked beside Raul, flashlight flickering as they swept it across dusty walls covered in faded symbols and torn photos of people none of them recognized.
As they moved through the dimly lit hallways, Julio's voice broke the quiet, half-joking. "Yo, Sherlock Holmes, any chance you can 'deduce' our way out of this mess?"
Raul rolled his eyes, but even he couldn't mask his nervousness. "Yeah, Sherlock Holmes here is fresh out of answers."
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the back room, where Manny and Julio had ventured. Raul's flashlight flickered as he bolted in their direction, Ali close behind. They found the two standing frozen, staring at a mirror that had inexplicably cracked, the jagged lines cutting through their own reflections.
"Did... did you see that?" Manny stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
Ali stepped forward, staring into the fractured glass. "It's starting," she murmured, feeling the weight of dread settle over them all.
As they continued, something dark slithered along the walls, a shadow just out of sight, flickering at the edges of their vision. The smell of burning wax grew stronger, and the candle flames quivered as if something had disturbed the air around them.
They reached the final room, Anna's old bedroom. Symbols were scratched into the walls, dark and ominous, each line pulsing faintly as if alive. A stack of Anna's notebooks lay in a dusty heap in the corner, pages scattered as if someone—or something—had searched through them.
Raul crouched down, lifting one page with trembling fingers. "She... she wrote about us. It's like she knew we'd come."
Ali felt a chill run through her. "We need to leave. Now."
But as they turned to go, the door slammed shut, the sound reverberating through the room. Shadows pooled in the corners, coalescing into a dark, twisting figure that hovered between them and the exit.
The gang members froze, eyes wide, as the figure seemed to breathe, its presence suffocating. Ali felt her chest tighten as she struggled to form words, her voice barely audible. "Whatever you are… we're not afraid."
The shadow paused, almost as if considering her words, then surged forward, throwing the group into a frenzy. They backed into each other, every one of them scrambling, shouting, as objects started flying off shelves, mirrors shattering with a deafening crash.
"¡Mierda, vámonos!" Julio shouted, dragging Manny by the arm toward the door as Raul forced it open with all his strength. They bolted, their footsteps echoing down the halls as they barely managed to escape the apartment, leaving behind a space filled with an ominous silence, broken only by the flicker of dying candle flames.
Outside, Ali looked back at the apartment, the dark figure still watching from the window, its form vanishing into the shadows as they fled into the night.
Back at the pool hall, they sat in stunned silence, each one lost in thought, the weight of what they'd just witnessed pressing down on them. For the first time, the gang was silent—not one of them cracked a joke or shrugged off what had happened. Ali spoke, her voice steady but tinged with a fierce determination.
"We're dealing with something that doesn't want us here. But it's not going to end until we face it—until we finish what Anna started."
Raul nodded, his jaw clenched. "Then we do this. But we do it right. No more playing around."
Ali looked around at each of them, nodding solemnly. She knew this was just the beginning.