Categories > Original > Horror > gjnhjfdhns

The Water's Coming IN

by noisee 0 reviews

Ohnoes ohnoes.

Category: Horror - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Action/Adventure, Horror - Published: 2007-03-27 - Updated: 2007-03-27 - 686 words - Complete


gjnhjfdhns: Part TWELVE: The Water's Coming IN

We had raided the janitor's closet and found a lighter, and a pair of walkie-talkies. Working walkie-talkies. What an odd convenience... But who could complain?

``Hey, guys... We're at the library now...`` Tyler's voice came out wavery, as though distorted by fear. Mitchell was with him, as well as Dylan and Ale. Each of them was armed- Mops, brooms, hockey sticks, and pockets full of tennis balls were their weapons. We in the classroom were armed as well: Carl had a hammer, Angel had a tennis racket, Marina and I held hockey sticks, and a box full of hard, rubber balls sat in the middle of the table we surrounded.

I pushed a button. "Ready to go through with this, guys?"

``More than I'll ever be.``

``Okay, let's go!``

We heard them run, and then the shock of static made our ears ring.

"Sh-t!" Carl cursed, slamming the hammer onto the ground. "Of course they'd die!"

"Shut up, Carl!" Marina snapped. "They're NOT dead. They can't be..."

"Yea... Maybe, maybe the frequency got mixed up or something," Angel sniffed.

I bit my lip. "Hello? /Hello/!? Guys!"

Nothing but the shush of white noise.

"This was a stupid idea! You're supposed to be the smart one!" Carl scoffed.

"I didn't force anyone to do anything! I just suggested it!"

"If you didn't suggest it, they wouldn't have volunteered!"

"If I didn't suggest it, we'd be sitting here waiting to die!"

"At least we'd all be sitting here!"

I choked, furrowing my brows and biting my lower lip. He was right. At least it would be all of us...

"God... Now what? We're... Alone, and... And..."


Eyes wide, everyone's attention turned to the walkie-talkie. Screams? Sounds? We all scrambled to get closer to the walkie-talkie, breathing raggedly, straining to hear the tiniest recognizable sound, any sing- any sign that they were alive...

``... Are they... Are they de... Can't b... No... Watch o.. Ty... I... se... ything! Thi... Oh my G... Where...``

The snippets of voices stopped coming, and we held our breaths. Closer we moved, our ears almost touching each other, eyes wide and pupils dilated

A retched sound, so vile and shocking that it jolted us all away from the table with fright and horror. We landed on the ground, completely opposite from what we had been earlier; we struggled to block out the noises coming from the walkie-talkies, those psychotic screeches and wails of agony, slamming our hands over our ears and writhing pathetically on the carpet- Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop makeitstopMAKEITSTOP

And then it did.

A silence so quiet it was almost suspicious flooded the room like a thick and stuffy blanket that held no warmth whatsoever. I looked up at the walkie-talkie, afraid to remove my hands from my ears, when something much more shocking happened:

The door burst open.

"Hey, guys, get up!"

"Mitchell!? Ale!?" Just Ale and Mitchell.

"We have a problem!"

"No /shite/, Sherlock," scoffed Mitchell.

We got up from our positions on the floor and scrambled toward them. "What? What is it?! Where're the others?!"

"They are the problem!" Ale had both hands on her head in frustration. "We got in okay, and we found the people missing from your party-"

"-you had ANOTHER party without me!?"

"Shut /up/, Carl!"

"-but as soon as we broke them all free," Ale continued, "they grabbed Dylan and Tyler. They were about to get us, but we managed to escape. Now... Now..."

"They're all like Brian."

Marina screamed, but Angel tackled her to shut her up. "Quiet! I think I hear someone coming!"

We all grabbed our weapons and stood out of view from the door, watching it for any sign of movement, and soon found what we were waiting for: A person. They stepped into the room- slowly, relaxed- revealing themselves to be none other than Anthony.

Someone behind me gasped, and his head snapped toward us. We were silent again, but that one sharp intake of breath was the only slip-up he needed.

He charged.
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