Pranks

Winter wind swept briskly across the motley group of four, swirling the flurries from a nearby snowdrift and making them shine like sparkly diamonds in the moonlight. Michael shielded his eyes and braced himself against the frigid air, wondering for the third time how Debbie managed to rope him into this. “Come on,” she said, motioning towards a glass door. A large orange Keep Out sign stood nearby, tattered and torn, its message faded and long since ignored. “Be careful on the stairs,” she spoke. “They’re stable, but it’s hard to see and you might trip.” “Are you sure we can be here?” asked Jane, her voice shaky, nervous. “What if we get caught?” “We’re not going to get caught,” Replied Wendy, rolling her eyes. “You didn’t even know about this place until Debbie told you, right?” “Well, yeah,” mumbled Jane, twirling a strand of black hair. “Then what’s the big deal? There aren’t any people in sight, and even if there were, I doubt anyone would care.” “But what if we do get caught?” she repeated, hands on her hips. “My parents think I’m at a movie right now. If they found out I would do something like this…” “Jane,” Michael reasoned, cutting into what would soon to escalate into a familiar argument. “It’s too late to go back now. Just come on up. What’s the worst that could happen” “I’m not going, alright?” Jane’s eyes flared. “I’ll sit here and hold down the fort, make sure no one tries to go up.” She sighed, and sat down with a loud clank upon the hard metal stairs. Michael and the others pushed on past her, he opened the door after a moments hesitation, the others following suit. “Don’t be long.” Jane called up to them. Michael found himself wishing for a flashlight as soon as they turned towards the hall, the darkness enveloped them like a black shroud. But Debbie had said that a flashlight would ruin the mood, that it would make things less exciting, that it would scare the spirits away. Michael didn’t really believe in spirits or that the simple vacant office building sitting just a few miles from their neighborhood could be haunted. But it was the kind of opportunity a free thinking adventurous teenager couldn’t just pass up, and as he sat with Jane and Wendy and listened to Debbie go on and on and on about this place, he knew there was no getting out of it, now. “Are they evil ghosts?” Jane had asked. Debbie had simply shrugged with an indifferent manner. The hallway opened up to a large main room, the moon drawing thin slits of light upon the floor. A damp moldy smell hung in the air, like years of dust motes had settled, become wet and hadn’t been cleaned in ages. Cobwebs draped about like decorations throughout the room, and Michael started to swipe blindly into the dusky air, making sure that none of them caught his face. A chill breeze blew through a nearby broken window, its jagged edges grinning like the monstrous teeth of an enormous jack-o-lantern in the feint moonlight. Debbie grabbed both Wendy and Michael’s arms and led them to a dark corner of the room. It was so dark that Michael couldn’t even see her face; only her ghostly hand hung out in front of him, guiding him. “Sit here,” she commanded, steering them towards a pair of padded seats. They silently obeyed, and soon the three were sitting around some vague central object, a fourth seat sat empty. “Now listen,” whispered Debbie. “You have to be absolutely quiet for this to work. You may want to close your eyes too…” “Wait,” thought Michael, aloud. “For what to work, exactly?” “To hear the ghosts, or something. Call it whatever the hell you want. You need to really concentrate though. If it works, you’ll start to hear or feel something. Just stay calm and let it pass.” “Whatever,” said Wendy, her voice strained, trying to stay calm “Let’s just try it and get out of here.” “You’re not scared, are you Wends?” taunted Debbie, her tone anything but reassuring. Wendy didn’t respond, and a deafening silence fell upon them. After a few minutes of hesitation Michael closed his eyes, focusing his attention entirely to sound and touch, determined to give Debbie the benefit of the doubt and concentrate as she requested. Nothing but the slow, rhythmic breathing of his two companions punctuated by a few creaks of the building registered for several minutes. Disbelief began to crawl into Michael’s mind. Then he felt it; something light and thin and cold brushing up against his cheek, tickling his neck like a feather and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it before any words come out. It’s what he came for, right? “Mike,” whispered some voice, so faint Michael wasn’t even sure it came from outside his head. He heard Wendy shudder, then fall silent. Even her breath was restrained, coming out only in silent yawns. “Mike…get out…Mike…get…out…” it whispered again, louder this time. He grabbed the sides of his chair and squeezed tightly, trying to ignore the fear building up in his chest. Something
hard and cold touched his shoulder, sat heavily upon his senses, stealing the warmth away from his body. He shivered. Suddenly the thing on his shoulder gained weight and pushed hard, sending Michael flying across the room. Ghostly, ethereal screams pierced the air, accentuated by the more earthly cries of Wendy. A blinding white light flashed into Michael’s eyes, blinding him. “BOO!” Yelled a more masculine voice, followed by raucous laughter. It took a few moments for Michael to figure out what was happening, but when he finally did he simply shook his head, embarrassed. “You got me, Jim,” he laughed as he picked himself off the floor. Jim shined the light onto his own face, still smiling. “I guess you were in on this too, right Debbie?” Jim shined the light onto Debbie’s face, who was also smiling. “Yep. We got Cindy and Kevin the same way, though they screamed a bit louder than you two.” “It’s all good,” said Michael. He was still breathing hard, but laughing all the same. “You doing alright Wends? Those were some pretty intense screams coming outta you.” “Wends?” His words were met with silence. Jim shined his light where Wendy’s chair sat. Where Wendy was supposed to be. But Wendy wasn’t there. “Wends?” Michael called out again, loud enough this time to hear his own echo bounce across the room. Nothing. “Come on Wendy,” cried Debbie nervously. “It was just a joke. Come on out.” Jim cast his light across the room, letting it bounce onto the tables and chairs and cubicles that were too long abandoned. “Ugh,” he muttered. “You guys took forever in getting here. My hands were getting numb.” “From what?” asked Michael. “From the snow. I figured that cold hands would be a nice touch. It’s the little things that count, right?” “I guess,” said Michael. “It’s probably a good thing Jane didn’t come up.” “Why didn’t she?” “She was afraid we’d get caught breaking and entering, or something. She seemed really scared.” “Lame.” “Will you two shut up and find Wendy?” demanded Debbie, her voice cracking. “Maybe she’s hiding, or hit her head or something. Maybe she’s in trouble.” “Listen Debbie,” said Jim. “I’m sure Wends is fine. Just relax. We can split up and search all the cubicles. She has to be in one of them.” “Slight problem there,” said Michael. “When you shined that light in our faces, you ruined our night vision. I can’t see a damn thing.” “Me neither,” said Debbie. “Whatever. It should only take a few minutes to find her no matter what. This place isn’t that big.” But as they went from cubicle to cubicle, searching every nook and cranny they could, checking under every desk, every table, the abandoned office felt very large indeed. It was like the girl had vanished into thin air. “Is everything alright up here?” Jane asked from behind, causing Michael to jump. “Kind of,” replied Michael, reaching out to touch the girl, to see where she was standing. His hands found skin, but quickly draw away like he got an electric shock. “Jesus,” he yelped, rubbing his hands together. “You’re freezing.” “It’s really cold outside. It even started snowing a little. I was going to come inside earlier, but I heard screaming and I got scared. But then I heard some really weird noises outside and got even more scared, so I decided to come up and try to get one of you to figure out what it was.” She paused. “What happened up here, anyway?” “It was all a joke,” said Michael. “But Wendy disappeared and we don’t know where she went. We think she ran into one of the cubicles around here and hit her head or fainted or something.” “Oh.” Her voice was flat and steady, never wavering. “Well, could somebody go downstairs and see if there’s anything wrong? I’m really scared.” Michael was quiet for a moment, considering. “I’ll go,” he spoke finally. “Oh come on Michael,” said Debbie in a nearly hysterical shrill tone. “I don’t think you realize what the hell is happening here. Wendy is gone. People don’t just vanish like that. She’s in trouble, wherever she is. We have to help her.” Michael moved a hand to Debbie’s shoulder, hoping to console her. Her body felt like fire compared to Jane’s. “Listen Debbie,” he said. “Everything is going to be alright. We’re going to find Wends, we’re going to help her with whatever she needs, and then we’re going to go home, because you know like everything will just be fine. But I really am concerned about whatever it is Jane heard. If there are some other people here, or worse, a cop, then that should be our main focus. The last thing I want is to get into real trouble.” “Always a voice of reason, huh Michael,” said Jim. “Let me go with you though. Never know who or what you might run into. Besides, if Wends really did hurt herself, I doubt that I’m the first person she’d like to see.” “Oh, great,” said Debbie. “The big strong boys are leaving the poor girls all alone in the creepy dark room. At least leave us the flashlight,” she demanded, holding out a hand. He sighed, and placed the light into her fingers, muttering something bitter under his breath. The two boys headed towards the stairs. “Be careful!” Jane called out after them. “Those stairs can be tricky.” “So,” said Michael as they passed out of the doorway and into the open night air. “You see anything?” “Nothin’ at all.” Muttered Jim. “It’s weird, huh?” observed Michael, looking up at the sky. “I didn’t even hear Wends get up out of her chair.” “It’s not that weird. You were just more focused on getting the shit scared out of you by me.” “True,” said Michael, laughing a little. “I mean you were really good. Especially with the thing on my neck, and the little whispers to get me softened up and everything.” An unexpected silence followed, and Michael turned his gaze down to see Jim staring straight at him, deadly serious. “What are you talking about?” he asked. A sudden yelp and the sound of a crack floated down from the loft, and in a moment the two boys were running, their feet harshly pounding staccato rings with every step on the hard metal stairs. They reached the room, only to find a flashlight rolling across the floor and no girls to be found anywhere. Michael ran over and grabbed the light, shining it all around, trying to find somebody, anybody. The light flooded over a table near the broken window, and Michael held it steady, his mouth gaping open. Debbie lay slumped against the wall, a neat trickle of blood flowing from the back of her head like red drops of rain from a leaky gutter. She looked out with unseeing eyes, blinded by the light of the flashlight. The two rushed over. “Debbie,” cried Michael, carefully cradling her head. “Can you hear me, Debbie?” “What the hell…” she moaned softly. “What the hell…the puddle…I swear it…it moved…what the hell…” The light began to fade from her eyes, and Michael shook her gently. “Come on,” he said. “Stay with me Debbie. Where’s Jane?” Her eyes open wide. “Jane…she’s…she’s…” Her throat lets out a faint croaking noise, then nothing. “Aw, what the hell man, what the hell,” said Jim, pacing back and forth. “First Wends, then Jane and Debbie…what the hell is this?” “Calm down Jim,” said Michael. “She’s still breathing. But we need to get her to a hospital, and fast.” “Oh, and leave everyone else behind?” said Jim, pacing back and forth even faster and more erratic than before. “Great freaking idea. Real freaking compassionate.” “Jim, there’s something going on here. I think we should do what we can and just get the hell out of here.” “But what about everyone else, huh? What the hell are we supposed to tell everybody? ‘Uh, they disappeared or something. We just couldn’t find them.’ No one’s going to believe us Michael. No one. Shit, this was all supposed to be some stupid little joke. How the hell did this happen?” “Jim,” said Michael, eyeing a stream of blood on the floor moving in a curious fashion. “Stop moving around like that.” “Or what?” asked Jim, pacing faster still. “Jim, look out!” Michael yelled, but it was too late. A thin stream of Debbie’s blood had flowed right into Jim’s path, just enough lubricant to make his feet slip, to compelling him to fall forward. Forcing him right onto the broken windows jagged teeth, piercing his neck. He struggled for just a moment, but dark crimson quickly blossomed on both sides of his neck, the blood spurting out and gushing in time with the rhythm of his heart. His mouth, his jaw, his limbs, all going limp, made his body hang like a marionette cut from its strings. Then all was still. Michael shook his head, breaking his gaze from the horrible scene, and focused on Debbie. He moved to pick her up to take her out of this place when she suddenly awoke. “Wait,” she whispered. “We…I think we found Wendy…the cubicle over there.” “Okay, okay, I got it,” he said, speaking quickly. “Just stay here and try to stay conscious.” “Thanks, Michael.” He moved as fast as he could towards the distant cubicle, taking care not to step in or trip over anything out of place, but stopped just short of entering. A weird thought had entered his mind that he should just leave everyone and go, that he would be all right if he simply dropped everything and headed out the door. “No,” he muttered to himself, and peered inside.It took a few moments to find Wendy, curled up in a fetal position under a desk, her face frozen in a macabre stare of dazed fear, her jaw locked up leaving her mouth frozen in a terrified O. He checked her pulse, but deep down he knew that he didn’t have to; she clearly died a while ago. “Come on, Debbie,” said Michael, turning around. “I’m going to carry you out, okay?” “Whatever you say Michael,” she said, smiling warmly, blindly. He scooped her up, careful to keep her head up and supported, and carried her to the stairs like a baby. He stayed so focused on keeping her alive and leaving that he didn’t even notice Jane right in front of him, and nearly tripped over her. “Oh…oh thank god,” he said. “Listen Jane, we have to get out of here. Debbie’s hurt, and the other two, they’re…they’re dead. There’s something in this place that’s just wrong.” “I know exactly what you mean,” she said, her voice as flat as the last time he heard it. “I’m right behind you.” Michael walked past her, a little confused by her lack of emotion, but still just glad to be leaving. Jane’s hand stayed on his back, so cold that shivers ran up and down his spine. The hand stayed there as he approached the stairs, and Michael stopped. Be careful, she had said. Those stairs can be tricky, she had said. The cold hand gave a quick little push, and for a moment Michael stood on the edge of falling, teetering back and forth. Another quick jab and he was flying down the stairs, his vision exploding into blinding stars as his head bounced onto a metal step, pain ran like an electric current through the rest of his body as his spine landed on another, breaking apart like a soggy branch with a sickening wet snap. Pain mixed with nausea, and Michael’s vision clouded over. He heard the clang, clang-clang of Jane slowly, patiently walking down the stairs. She stood over Michael’s body, her eyes glowing like rubies in the moonlight. “I told you to leave,” she whispered, though no longer Jane’s voice; now the voice of something otherworldly, something evil. “I told you, but you didn’t listen. But don’t worry, my dear boy,” she said, leaning closer. “It will all be over soon.” His screams pierced far into the twilight, but soon all was quiet. All was still, but for the winter wind that swept briskly across the orange Keep Out sign, tattered and torn, its message faded and long since ignored.