"Wouldn't you like to stay and play? Little puppet." Joncer.
"Oh come on! What are you two so afraid of?" The cold fall air stirred the leaves around them, lashing at their already pink faces. Ryan bit his lip, staring at the large broken down house. It looked old; at least a hundred years old. The windows were busted, vines climbing up the walls that were once white and into the house. It was beautiful, but breaking down. Ryan was positive that if they walked past the rotting wooden doors and into the house that the roof would collapse and they'd all be doomed.
"It looks dangerous." He turned to face Spencer who had a pout on his face. "Just trust me Spence; we should just go home."
"Or drinking in the park!" Brendon held up the bag he was carrying, waving it in front of Spencer. They both watched as Spencer started to climb the fence.
"Screw that. I'll just go alone." He hopped the fence, walking towards the building. Ryan and Brendon both ran up to the gate, gripping the cold metal as they watched Spencer cross the front yard, wading through the tall and unkempt grass.
"Spencer! Get back here!" Ryan was screaming, begging for Spencer to come back. Spencer turned around, giving the two other boys a sly grin before walking past the broken doors.
Brendon ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Fuck. What now?" Ryan bit his lip again, glancing from Brendon's worried face to the door Spencer had gone though.
"I don't know. I guess the only thing to do is just...wait for him to come back." Brendon sat down, pulling out a beer from the bag.
"Till morning then. If he's not back by dawn we go in." Brendon cracked the beer open, as the two nodded with agreement.
Spencer walked around the inside of the house, passing different rooms filled with furniture and coats of dust that had only been disturbed by animals. He ran his fingers along one of the wallpapered walls. There was only a slight amount of light coming in from the windows from the streetlights outside, and deciding that it wasn't enough Spencer pulled out his lighter, using the little dancing flame as his main source of light. The people that lived in the area all said that the house was haunted, that no living human dared going in. He kept his head high, carrying on through the dark house. It was close to midnight, the house still and almost pitch black as his lighter ran out of fuel.
Except for a single soft glow coming from under one of the doors. It looked as if it was coming from candles, the house devoid of most luxuries related to electricity. Tilting his head in curiosity he made his way to the door, slowly pushing it open. On the other side was a perfect dinner table, long with chairs surrounding it, complete with satin table cloth and place settings; food ready to eat and steaming. There was a single person at the table, his head resting on his hands. He looked bored, tired.
Spencer walked into the room, sitting down across the table from the other boy. He seemed unaware of Spencer's presence, too caught up in thoughts that Spencer could never unravel. Brown eyes staring at a melting candle, the wax slowly melting, making the candle shrink. Dark brown hair falling in his stubble covered face. Spencer thought about speaking, but decided against it. For all he knew, the boy that sat across from him didn't even exist. He was dressed in formal wear, a grey buttoned up shirt with black pinstripes, and a black vest over that. Complete with tie and smoothed back hair.
Spencer glanced at his watch; two minutes till midnight. "What are we waiting for?" The boy slowly turned his head to face Spencer, his deep brown eyes looking dead and lifeless.
"Them." Spencer stayed silent, shocked that the boy had said anything. What was even more odd was the accent that he seemed to have. Well, that and how incredibly amazing his voice sounded. It was like velvet.
"What's your name?" The other boy was still staring at him, a blank expression on his face.
"Jon." The grandfather clock behind him went off, the boy looking unaffected. "And yours?"
"I'm Spencer." He held out his hand for Jon to take, but it was ignored as other people started to appear in the chairs. Spencer's hand slowly fell as he watched the apparitions appear out of nowhere. Other people, dressed in formal wear that sat around the table, each one of them having some form of wound on their darkly dressed bodies. There was a man missing half of his face, a women with three holes in her chest, twins one with a missing eye and the other with a missing arm. Spencer stared in shock as he stared at the people around the room. There had to have been at least ten of them. He wondered if Jon was apart of their group, or if there was some other connection.
"We have a guest." Every head turned to face Spencer, vacant eyes and blank expressions all seeming to scream at him to get out. Though none spoke a word, other than Jon. They eat in silence, all of the food on the table slowly vanishing along with the people that seemed dead. But they couldn't be dead. It would be impossible. It was just some trick. A prank on any who wanted to walk in the run down house. That's why Jon hadn't said anything personal. Hadn't mentioned Spencer's name or asked any questions. It was just an illusion; a trick of the light made of smoke and mirrors.
Eventually all the bodies were gone, leaving only the two boys and candle wax that was dripping onto the tablecloth. Spencer dared to speak. "Who are you?" Jon stared at him, a small and crooked smile crossing his face. He leaned on the table, his elbows propped up as he grinned at Spencer.
"I'm the boy who murdered my family. Wouldn't you like to stay and play? Little puppet."
Brendon and Ryan waited outside the house until the sun came up. Spencer never came out, so they thought it best to explore the vast and rundown home that he had vanished in. They wandered down corridor after corridor, never finding the boy they were looking for. It was almost as if he had never existed at all. They went to the police, panic quickly setting in as they started to think they had lost their friend forever.
Months went by, autumn turning into winter, which slowly turned into spring. It was then, that the search party's had given up. And Spencer was lost forever in the house that had claimed so many souls, leaving Ryan and Brendon to wonder why they hadn't tried harder to stop him; or why he had ever gone in at all. They regretted that night, and they talked about it frequently, naming all the different ways that they could have saved him. Things they could have done that would have allowed Spencer to still be with them. But he was lost.
At least, that's what they thought.
I shouldn't be starting something new, but I am anyway. There's this serious ticking in my head, and it's preventing me from finishing chapters to any of the stories I've already started. I'll sit at my computer for three hours and only end up writing a paragraph. There's something wrong with me, and I honestly don't know what it is or how to fix it.
That, my dear friends, is why you're getting this.