Categories > Original > Horror > gjnhjfdhns

The Garage.

by noisee 0 reviews

We venture out.

Category: Horror - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Action/Adventure, Horror - Published: 2007-03-27 - Updated: 2007-03-27 - 691 words - Complete


gjnhjfdhns: Part THREE: The Garage.

I led everyone outside, into the empty garage. By now, the sun was already setting, but we were an odd peoples, so it didn't really matter. We stood in the bare... "Room" of sorts, just looking around at eachother, until everyone looked at me. I had closed the door and had one hand on the light switch.

"Okay, guys, sit down in a place where you can't touch anyone else. No screaming, and you cannot move." Done, done, and done. "Let's see who will crack first." With a malicious grin, I switched off the light.

Pure darkness.

I couldn't even see my hand in front of me.

I sat down by the door, humming idly in my mind, and let silence roam over the inhabitants. Odd, nobody was talking, aside from the usual whisper and murmur. That was a good thing, though. I pressed a button on the remote I had so expertly stashed in my sweater sleeve. The CD Stereo on one of the shelves started to sob.

"What the hell?"

The sobs were quiet, at first; tragic, tortured noises, soft cries of someone experience a great emotional pain.

God, I loved the internet.

The sobs began to gradually increase in volume, agonized screams of a hurting soul, and then incoherent syllables entered the mix; /"Why... WHHHYYY.... Whyy... Noooo.... Ple.... Nooo... Wh.. "/; the sobs softened again, almost silent, until a sudden scream pierced the cold air, and I hit the pause button as I flinched.

No matter how many times I listened to that, I would always jump. It was just so... So sad, and then so psychotic.

"Ohhhh, real scary, Hazel."

Stupid Mitchell. I rolled my eyes as I drew another remote from my other sleeve. Sleeves were good like that. I pressed play, and grinned as I heard a slight rustling of noise. This little speaker was behind Mitchell, and the track started off with an inhuman screech. HA HA HA, Mi/chelle/.

The screech dwindled down into a scratching noise, one that sounded very real. It increased in volume, making it feel like the noise was all around us. Even I felt like it was behind me. The scratching began to speed up, getting frantic, trying to claw its way into our minds, and then I froze-

Something was horribly wrong.

I pressed the stop button, but the scratching continued.

It was behind me.

Breathing out a swear, I jumped up, dropping the remotes and flicked the switch.

Still dark.

I pulled a flashlight from one of my sleeves (Sleeves are better than pockets, fool.) and switched it on. Thank God. A beam of light split the darkness in half, and I was met with five confused faces.

Oh, /friiiick/.

That wasn't right.

I moved the flashlight around, ignoring the questions of the others, and found nothing. Just the empty garage, and five confused faces.

"Where'd everyone else go?" inquired Andrew.


Scratch, scratch...

"What's going on?" Marina asked, looking concerned.

"... I..."

... Scratch... Scraatch...

"What's wrong?" Angel said, also looking worried.

"... I'm... I'm not..."

"What's that noise? Why's it so loud?" Alejandra was looking freaked out.



"What the hell..." Brian was eyeing the door suspiciously.

"I don't think..."

Suddenly, everyone was talking at the same time, asking questions, expressing concerns, and

Scraaaaaaatch...! Scrrrraaaaaaatch...!

"Could everyone ple/ase SHUT UP FOR A GODDAMNED SECOND/!?" I shrieked, confusion, annoyance, anxiety and fear exploding within my veins. The scratching was incessant, but the chattering ceased, though I was met with a number of not-so-pleasant looks.

"Whoa, calm down, geez..."

"... God, friggin' harpy..."

I glared at Brian and Andrew, wishing I had the power to silence them, but settled for shining light in their eyes.


I snapped it off, not sure how long it would last, and how long we would need it. The thing's batteries were older than me, and if it had been at full blast, I'm pretty sure I would've heard a lot more swears.

"What the hell's going on?"

"I..." I frowned, my head turning toward the door, feeling the exertion the scratching was putting on it. "... I don't know."
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