FicWad

Bob’s Point Of View


“I don’t like this” I huffed for the umpteenth time, as I slouched down in my seat with my arms crossed over my chest in a defensive manner. I listened to the assorted sighs and teeth sucking that followed my statement. I know that they are tired of hearing me say it, but I don’t care.
“I still don’t like this” I said again as I watched Gerard attempt to pour himself a cup of coffee, which was proving slightly difficult given all the wide turns and accelerations the bus was doing. Eventually, he proved successful in his task, and he rewarded himself by indulging in its taste before scolding me.
“I wish you would just lay off it, Bob” he said as he took a seat across from me at the small kitchenette.
“I won’t lay off it, cuz I don’t like it. Why is he the ONLY one who’s not here? Better yet, why is HE there all ALONE?” I demanded.
“Because he’s sick” Mikey offered softly from behind his own cup of coffee. He’s so naïve.
“Bullshit! The ONE person who suggested and was most adamant about going on this trip just ‘happens’ to get sick the very day that we decide to go? And when we say we’ll wait until he gets better he tells us to just go on without him? Please! Frank is one of the most selfish guys I know. I just think this is a bunch of bullshit!”
“Frank got sick. Shit happens” Gerard said, trying to take on a tone of indifference but there was obvious irritation in his voice.
“Yeah, well I still call bullshit. So don’t be surprised when we return home and the damn mansion is up in flames or engulfed by the supernatural or something. Because I told you first, the kid is up to something”
“Bob, you ALWAYS think Frank is up to something. If it were up to you, you’d have black ops on his ass 24/7”.
“It would probably do the world good too” I counter
“Yeah, well maybe so. But just this one time, can you just get over your paranoid Frank conspiracies and just assume that he really is sick? Plain and simple? I’d like for just one day, for all of us to just relax and take our minds off of work, off of the mansion, and off of fucking Daisy Danziger.”
I look at him in silence for a moment, then steal a peek over at Mikey, who was staring out the window, looking slightly unnerved.
I signed my resignation with a sigh as I stood up. “Fine” I grunted as I walked to my bunk bed at the back of the bus.
“But I still call bullshit” I said to myself as I collapsed onto the bed.



Frank’s Point Of View


“Hey everybody! This is Frank of My Chemical Romance, which you probably already know if you’re bothering to watch this video. Anyways, I just wanted inform you guys of what’s going to happen before it does happen, if anything even happens at all” I stood up with the camera in hand and ran with it upstairs and into Mikey’s bedroom, where a Ouija board was displayed across the bed. I panned the camera down so that it could see the board in its entirety.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” I asked after turning the camera back so that it would see my beaming face. “I bought it off this voodoo shop online, and it just came in yesterday. For those of you whom don’t know, yesterday was the day that I convinced the guys that we should all leave the house for awhile, which they all agreed on. However, today I, quite unluckily, ‘got sick’ and needed to stay home. So, in other words, I now have the entire mansion to myself. I plan to wisely use this time alone to try and use this bad boy” I say momentarily pointing the camera down toward the Ouija board, and then bringing it back up to my smiling face. “And I know what some of you are thinking: But Frank! You promised you wouldn’t! You promised you weren’t going to perform a séance. And you’re right. I DID say that I was not going to perform a SÉANCE. I never said that I wouldn’t use a Ouija board. What did I say about loopholes? We weasels are just so damn tricky” I jest as I walk over to Mikey’s nightstand and place the camera upon it so that it was facing the Ouija board.
“Ok. Now let me just prop you up with something so that you can see the letters and everything… That’ll work” I say as I place a thick book under the camera so that the lens is facing downward. “Oh yeah! I also want to mention before I even get started that this is all going to be filmed in one shot, so I don’t want to hear any bullshit about me fooling with the camera or anything should we actually catch something paranormal on here. And the tape is brand new, so again, I don’t wanna hear nothing about recycled tapes being the cause of anything I catch on here… Alright,” I walk around the side of the bed and look at the camera to make sure that it’s angled correctly, but not too far that it might fall off the nightstand. Mikey would kill me if I broke his camera.
Especially if I broke it while doing this.
I pull a chair from Mikey’s desk and position it directly in front of the foot of the bed. Giving one, final devilish smile to the camera, I say, “Let’s get started”, as I place both hands on top of the planchette and then close my eyes and exhale deeply, allowing my mind and body to go limp in the process.
“Spirit, can you hear me?” I ask in my best impression of a telepath or a medium. I open my left eye ever so slightly, peeking at the planchette which lies motionless on the table. Glancing at the camera perched patiently on the nightstand I smile sheepishly, then turn my attention back to the board and decide to give it another go.
“Spirit, what is your name?” I say, only this time louder and more dramatically.
“Oh my god” I say aloud as the planchette moves from its position on the board to the letter ‘D’. “D-A-I-S-…” I look up at the camera with a look of disbelief and horror on my face that, despite my best efforts, erupts into laughter.
“I’m sorry,” I squeak through my fit of laughter. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself. I’m sure if nothing else, Mikey would get a bit of a scare from it. Haha” I say as I place the planchette back at its original position. “From here on out, I swear to be the perfect gentleman, and use this damn thing as it’s meant to be used.” I affirm as I place my hands back on the planchette and relax my mind and body.
“Spirit, are you lost?” I ask, and receive no answer. “Spirit, what do you want?” I feel the planchette moving across the board and look down at the planchette and then glance quickly at the camera, eyes wide in disbelief.
“It’s going to the M,” I say as I look back down at the board. “M-I-K-E… Y. Mikey” I whisper as I look back up at the camera, fear strewn across my face. I keep my composure for several seconds until I can take it no longer and another barrel of laughs come bursting from my mouth just as before. I laugh so hard that I have to lean onto the bed and wrap an arm around my stomach. “Oh my god, my spleen!” I utter through my frenzy of laughter. Once I gain some form of self control I look back at the camera.” I know, you’ve likely shit bricks by now, Mikey” I giggle as I wipe a tear from my eye. I inhale deeply and exhale in a large and loud sigh. “From now on,” I announce placing my right hand over my heart and raising my left hand as if giving some solemn vow. “I promise to, officially, be a perfect gentleman. I will no longer play anymore tricks or games. And will use this Ouija board as, and only as, it was meant to be used: For communications with the dead”
All jokes officially aside, I place my hands upon the planchette and relax, letting go of any and all concerns and allowing my mind to slip into a state of nothingness.


“Spirit, are you here, in this room with me?” I sit and wait patiently for an answer, but to no avail. So I proceed.
“Spirit, what is your name?” I ask again, waiting several seconds before peeking at the planchette, and seeing it lie motionless on the board. I couldn’t help but let my shoulders slump slightly, and my lower lip poke out in disapproval. But I closed my eyes again, to resume my interrogation.
“Okay,” I said, with slight irritation peppering my voice, “Are you angry, Spirit? Or, perhaps, sad?” I questioned, trying to place some empathy in my voice instead of impatience. But there was still no response.
“Do you know that you are dead, Spirit?” I wait for the question to sink in, but after at least half a minute, there is still nothing. No movement, no sound, not even a change in temperature or atmosphere. Just a whole bunch of nothing.
I opened my eyes and sighed at the Ouija board as I slumped backward in my chair. Patience had never been a good trait of mine. Perhaps, the ghost, this Daisy or whatever, is just shy. Or, perhaps she’s never been here at all and rest of my band mates are all just a bunch of pansies spooked by some stupid ghost tale. This would explain why I, the best paranormal detective of the bunch, haven’t seen any kind of paranormal oddities.
I find myself now glaring at the Ouija board. It just doesn’t make sense. Every single person who comes into this house has witnessed or felt something that caused fear, uneasiness, or even a slight mania, except for me. Could Gerard be right and it’s simply from their overactive imaginations? But if that’s true, then why is Gerard, the one most skeptical of us all, being bothered by paranormal oddities and I’m not?
I put my elbow on my knee and bounce my foot while chewing my thumbnail. “I can’t stand it when he’s right” I say with a huff as I run my hand through my hair. I look back at the Ouija board and bite hard on my fingernail, causing it to rouge before I sigh. Either way, it can’t hurt to give it one more shot.
I place my foot flat on the ground, stopping my frustrated bouncing. I then reposition my body so that it is positioned directly in front of the board. Placing my hands back on the planchette, I exhale and allow everything to become limp in the process.
“Alright,” I say to no one and yet anyone and everyone who may be listening. “I can see that communication isn’t exactly your best talent. However, I’m going to ask you one final question…” I pause for a moment and look up at the ceiling. It is the final question, so it needs to be a good one. What should I ask them? Better yet, what would they respond to? I feel a bead of sweat drip down on the side of my face and I realize just how hot it has suddenly become.
“Spirit,” I beckon, my voice cracking slightly, “Spirit, why are you here? What is your purpose?” My eyes widen in incredulity as I watch the planchette tremble with great force, the sound of its clanking against the Ouija board growing stronger and stronger with every second as the trembling increases dramatically. My hands, which had long since removed themselves from the planchette, covered my mouth as I stared at the planchette in awe until it abruptly stopped moving all together. My heart was racing, and the blood in my veins seemed like it was coursing through at dangerous speeds. But all I could do was stare at the planchette in amazement.

The planchette was still in the same position, devoid of any movement, and an eerie, absolute silence had consumed the room. I sat in wait for a few moments to see if it would do anything further, but it simply lay there, as if it had never moved at all.
As I slowly allowed my hand to lower from my mouth, I realized that I had been holding my breath the entire time. I let out a loud sigh as I released my breath and looked toward the camera that had witnessed the entire scene in silence. “That. That was some crazy shit” I chuckled nervously. This was not at all what I had been expecting. I’ve used Ouija boards before and even performed séances where we’d get responses such as something moving, including the planchette, and I’d always find myself feeling completely stoked and elated, but this… This feels wrong.

The room had grown significantly hotter, and I had begun sweating profusely, but whether or not that was simply due to the heat, even I cannot say. I brought my hand to my forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat that had accumulated there, but I stopped mid-swipe as the sound of plastic slowly dragging across the board caused my entire body to freeze.
A fearful, nervous wreck on the inside, I felt far too frightened to move my body, but with all the courage I could muster I allowed my gaze to drift down towards the board, while keeping my face directed toward the camera. When my eyes met with the planchette it was laying on the letter ‘D’, as if it were patiently waiting on me, but it slowly began moving across the board to the next letter, ‘E’. Then it landed on the letter ‘A’, then on ‘T’ and…
My body began shaking ferociously at the recognition of the word that had been spelled. I shook so viciously that the beads of sweat on my forehead began to slip down my right cheek. Automatically, I brought my hand up to wipe it away when I noticed something red on the back of my hand. I stared at my hand in confusion as I realized that the red was dried blood, but from what?
A droplet of sweat fell from my chin and onto Mikey’s white sheets, leaving a wet stain of red that soaked through and spread out against the fabric, dying the color. I stared at the perfectly red stain as the scent of iron wafted into my nostrils. My trembling hand slowly rose to my forehead and I touched the tips of my fingers to my head, praying that this was all apart of my imagination, but when my fingers came into eyesight, they were coated in warm blood. My blood.
I screamed and threw myself backward, causing myself and the chair to go crashing to the floor. I jammed my eyes shut as a sudden burning sensation began consuming my entire body. It felt as if my body were lying in an ocean of fire, but the pain was most extreme around my neck. There, the pain was not only from the burning, but also an extreme pressure as if someone were stepping on my neck. My hands flew up and began clawing at my neck, but there was nothing there. Still I continued to claw, ripping open my own skin with my nails as the pressure on my neck increased enough so that I could barely breathe. My eyes flew open as I began gasping for air, and what they saw froze my body down to the bone.
A woman dressed in a white gown with white pearls stood in the corner of the room. At her midsection there was a large red stain that her left hand clutched tightly. On her forehead there is a large gash from which blood runs down her deathly pale face, as tears filled her all-white eyes. She took a step closer, with her free hand stretched out towards me. My body was quaking ferociously from both the fear and the cold, and as badly as I wanted to rise to my feet and tear myself from the room, I couldn’t get my body to respond, no matter how harshly I commanded it.
As she knelt down beside me, the cold became just as intense as the burning sensation from before, but I continued to stare at her with eyes wide in fear, as I was too afraid to look away or close them. She’s so close now, not even a foot away, and the terror seems so surreal that it feels as if my heart might just explode in my chest. But there’s nothing I can do but watch as her hand reaches upward, but then hovers directly above my chest.

“I am sorry,” she whispered with a lamentable smile.
“I’m sorry, but, I just can’t” she says as a tear of blood falls from her white eyes, and everything sets to black.