Sorry for the long wait. I know everyone really likes this series. It's 3:30 AM right now, and I just finished this. I scared the crap out of me when I wrote this. I hope it frightens you a bit too. And, good news! I know where this is finally heading! So expect the last part shortly.
This is part 6/7 of the Séance Series.
-
Dark [Dark] –adj.
Evil; iniquitous; wicked; having to do with evil or sinister themes.
“He’s coming, right?” I asked Brianne as she licked her dry lips. She rolled her eyes.
“Of course he’s coming! Why wouldn’t he? He called Richard and told him he’ll be here. Cool it, Jen,” Brianne replied in a hushed tone, pointing her index finger to Sam, who was hovering over the Ouija board. His face was different somehow. I couldn’t place it, but there was a sharper look in his usually round face. Dark bags hung under his eyes.
It made him seem dead, really.
We were all huddled in Sam’s bedroom, squished together like bats in a small cave. Brianne, Richard, Sam and I, that is. The Ouija board, as usual, was placed on the floor, opened up. The planchette was directly in the middle.
No one dared to touch it.
I glanced out of the window, through the blinds, and my breath was caught in my throat. Was that Steven? No, it couldn’t be. Yes—Yes it was. He was walking down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets and a hood draped over his head. He was obviously gloomy, from the look on his darkened face as he approached the front door.
The clouds in the sky threatened a power outage, which I really didn’t want to happen, especially now. Especially when we were about to perform a séance.
I didn’t dare go and greet Steven; I made Brianne promise me that she’d stay by me the entire time and not let him talk to me.
I knew, of course, that that’d be literally impossible. Still, it was worth a try. I didn’t want to be confronted by him.
The doorbell rang once, and Sam looked up from the board. All conversation stopped as we all looked at each other. I’d told them of what he’d done to me. Richard and Brianne already knew—they had tried to persuade him to come back to our little group. No one wanted to be with him anymore, even though he had sincerely apologized.
“I’ll get it,” Richard muttered as he stood up from the corner at which he sat. His face was drawn and pale too: a characteristic almost all of us in the room shared. Richard left the room, and a few moments later, he returned with Steven. The constant knot in my stomach pulled tighter as I struggled to avoid his eye.
“Right,” Sam spoke clearly, sighing. “I think we need to get our hands dirty pretty quickly. Parents are coming home soon. Let’s get this done and over with. Richard, care to explain what we’re going to be doing?”
Richard nodded and spoke, “I’ve promised you guys a dozen times or so that that would the last séance we ever did. I lied again and again and again. I’m sorry. But now I’m telling the truth. I’m sick of all of this. You are too. Lillian’s dead. Roger’s missing. What’s going to happen next?”
“We’re all going to die,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “It has a pattern.”
“Exactly!” Richard exclaimed. “A pattern. Lillian knows what this pattern is. She can help us.”
“She’s dead,” Steven interrupted, clearing his throat and chewing on his lip. “She can’t talk to us if she’s dead.”
“Listen dude,” Sam said to Steven, “just listen to what Richard’s saying. We have been talking to Lillian. She knows who’s next and also knows how we can stop it.”
“What’s ‘it’?” Brianne asked, twirling her hair around her fingers. I glanced at Richard, still avoiding Steven’s sullen eyes.
“The dark angel that Lillian’s been warning us about. It’s the one that killed her and took Roger away. We need to get Roger back. I don’t think he’s dead. Lillian hasn’t said anything on the matter, however. She hasn’t said whether he’s alive or dead. So I’m going to assume he’s alive.”
“Dude,” Sam muttered, “hurry! Let’s get this over with before my old folks come home!”
“Sorry,” Richard said, gathering his thoughts. “We need to talk to this dark angel, or whatever it is. We need to find out what it wants, and we also need to find out how we’re going to get rid of it. Let’s get started.”
I nodded and scooted closer to the Ouija board. I’d basically memorized the routine, as I’d done it a few times. Richard and Sam were the two members that placed their fingertips on the planchette. Brianne turned the lights off, leaving my side for a brief moment or two. In those sparse moments, I looked into Steven’s eyes. He stared back with the same emotion (sorrow, guilt) that I kept bottled inside. I quickly glanced away and rested my eyes on the planchette.
Thunder roared in the distance; the knot in my stomach pulled tighter.
“Are there any spirits here today that would like to converse with us?” Richard whispered into the fragile air.
Lightning (one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi). Silence surrounded us for many moments. I shut my eyes and squeezed Brianne’s hand.
Nothing.
“Are there—” Richard began again, but was cut off by Sam.
“Shh! Let the spirits come to us!” he whispered.
They sat in silence for a few moments longer. They seemed like hours. The silence droned on and on and on—
Thunder (one Mississippi, two Mississippi).
A quiet noise came from the other room. Surely that was a footstep? I peeked out of my right eye. Apparently the others had heard it too.
“Did you hear that?” I whispered. They all stared at me as we waited for another—
Again! There it was! A footstep coming from the other room. And another. Even another! My heart leaped into my throat.
“I thought you said we were alone, Sam,” Steven muttered.
“I thought so,” Sam replied, holding his fingers firmly against the planchette. It was quivering slightly. Not even for anyone to notice, but enough to feel under their fingers.
“Are there any spirits here today that would like to converse with us?” Richard repeated from memory. There was another footstep coming from the other room. Chills swept up and down my spine and I squinted my eye open again and fear flushed down through me and I didn’t want to continue any longer.
“Please, hurry,” I whispered.
“Are there any—”
WHAM! I uttered a loud scream and jerked backwards, away from the closed bedroom door. Someone had just thrown themselves into the door with a sickening thud. The noise echoed throughout the room for a brief moment. Everyone remained motionless.
Steven was breathing quickly. I watched him out of the corner of my eye.
“What was that?” Brianne asked suddenly. I turned my attention back to the door and froze.
It couldn’t be blood, could it? But it was. Blood was oozing out from the sides of the door. It dripped from the top, down the walls, into the carpet, through the doorknob. Thick, red, swollen blood.
“What’s going on?” Richard asked, and gained no reply.
WHAM! There it was again! Something was throwing itself into the door with an amazing force, and it made the door shudder and blood leak out quicker. The carpet was dying red.
“Christ, what’s happening?” Steven said, his face disfigured with horror. Without warning, I heard a sickening splat! that I never forgot in years to come. Everyone in the room screamed—me being the loudest. I craned my neck to glance behind me. Blood was sprayed over the window, drenching the sunlight into a grotesque color of scarlet.
“Stop it, Richard! Make them stop!” Sam cried.
“How? I don’t know what to—” WHAM! “—do!”
The planchette jerked off onto a section of the board, and Sam and Richard’s eyes followed it.
“Watch everyone! What’s it saying?” I read the letters out loud that the planchette landed on.
“B… U… R… N… T… H… E… B…O—” WHAM! It was getting louder with every thud. The blood continued to ooze and the door was beginning to splinter.
“A… R… D…”
The planchette swiveled to a halt and I yelled, “Burn the board!”
The door burst open, sending splinters flying everywhere. One of them caught a hold of my arm and impaled it, leaving a deep cut. But I didn’t notice that. Everyone’s attention was focused on the door.
There was a figure draped in a black robe. We only saw it for a brief, few moments until he disappeared altogether. It had no nose—that was one of the first things I noticed. Its skin was as an albino’s was. It had sharp, angular features. No hair, as far as I could tell.
I screamed again as it opened his mouth to speak.
“You cannot destroy me.” It wasn’t even a voice, I would later discover when I mulled about it. It was more of a hiss, like the one a snake would make.
Snake. Serpent. Lucifer. The devil’s forked tongue slithered out between words.
“I am Life,” it muttered. “I am You.”
And just like that, he was gone as quickly as he had come, leaving no time for yelling, screaming or suffering. The blood remained, however. The blood that squished when you walked over it. The blood that would stain my clothes and thoughts for years to come. The door, also, remained shattered, bits and pieces lying amongst the room, some on the floor, some stuck into our skin. Some were lying on the Ouija board.
All that remained were five immensely frightened teenagers with a plan to destroy the devil.
