Carnival De Muerte

By Robby Richardson

Welcome to underground author Robby Richardsons Carnival de Muerte. When musicians put out shortened albums, they call them EPs. When a writer puts out a small book, Robby calls them ERs. Carnival de Muerte is four ERs in one. Different nightmares and different tales that fit to every taste with some too terrifying for a solo release, Muerte is going big time. So step right in and take a read; it might be the biggest mistake you will ever make. Welcome to the terrifying sideshow known as the Carnival de Muerte.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jul 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466947306

Robby Richardson

Robby Richardson is twenty seven years old and currently lives in Chicago, Illinois. He is currently attending Lewis University for his master’s in secondary education. He dreams of owning his own publishing, recording, and film production companies. Robby is also getting married in October of 2013.

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© Copyright 2012 Robby Richardson.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

isbn: 978-1-4669-4731-3 (sc)

isbn: 978-1-4669-4730-6 (e)

Trafford rev. 07/24/2012

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www.trafford.com

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Contents

Big Time

Act I      The Muerte Bag

The Muerte Bag

Monsters Under the Bed

Bloodline III

The Muerte Bag

Apocalypse

The Reality of Muerte

ACT II      Behind The Mirror

Liquid Glass

Skin Deep

Skin Deep II

Mirror on the Wall

The White Rabbit

Murder of the Swan

My Own Worst Enemy

Act III      In The Shadow of Grim

Blood is Written in the Stars

Dear Diary

Monsters Under the Bed

Symphony #1

Blood is written on the Crown

Act IV      Virus

A Killer in us All

Slaves of Cockroach Island

Animosity of the Dummy

Stockholm Swamp

Virus in us All

Long Live Muerte

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all those struggling to achieve their dreams and chase their stars. This book is also dedicated to the graduating class of 2012 at Unity Junior High in Cicero, IL. I would lastly like to dedicate this book to Mr. Kompare for all the work he put into me. I hope to make you proud.

So Kings May Rise Stars Must Fall

-Robby Richardson-

Big Time

(Carnival de Muerte Intro)

By

Robby Richardson

But mom, I don’t want to go to this stupid carnival, my mother stared back at me. Her pointed nose and somber expression was filled with something completely different. Her yellowing teeth smiled widely, no, no my little dilly willy. MOM, I yelled embarrassed a little. She smiled stretching her chubby cheeks which always remind me a little of Porky Pig. Its Dillon mom and you should know that, stop treating me like a baby, my mother patted my knee softly you’ll always be my baby boy. Whatever, I exclaimed, anyway my little Dillon, she smiled grabbing my knee hard in a playfully manner. It’s pronounced Carnival, her hand waved in the air like she was pronouncing it to a stadium. I’m SO sorry mom, I said sarcastically wiping my shaggy blond hair from my face, CARNIVAL"! I said it with such sarcasm that my father had even begun to chuckle. His boisterous laugh always reminded me of an Italian opera star. Which always made my sister laugh, it was contagious. She looked like me except for several missing teeth in the front. She had blue eyes as dark as the lake and her golden hair tangled into a ponytail. She clenched her Barbie which she had called Miss Independent and it traveled with her everywhere she went.

Come on dad why are we doing this, my dad turned a black beard covered his face, his eyes gave a warm feeling to anybody that gazed upon them. Your mother and I both agree that you kids need to get some culture in your lives. I stared at my father, by what… going to see something gay! Gay, exclaimed my sister excitedly stroking the hair of her doll, tell me what is gay about the Carnival de Muerte? Turning to the window, a bunch of guys dancing around in spandex, brightly colored clothes, covered in stones… yeah sounds pretty… My mother turned in her seat, not another word we are going as a family and no more insensitivity. But mom, not another word Dillon we didn’t raise you to say stuff like that . Before I could respond back my father gave a loud, look family, we’re here.

Our tiny SUV pulled into a parking lot that was filled with cars, looks like the whole town came out. My mother placed her hand on my father’s shoulders adding to his comment, well how often is it that something like this comes out this way? My father found a spot right in the back underneath an eerily looking pine tree. The Carnival was nothing that I had expected… well the large black and red circus tent was exactly what I had expected. People exited their vehicles and were heading up towards the large open section of the tent. I stared at the masses of people, I don’t think I have ever seen the whole town in one place before. My father picked up my sister as my mother chortled joyfully patting me on the back. We approached the tent, which was covered with different spooky things. Cobwebs covered the sides of the tent as body parts littered the dying brown grass. A ticket booth stood at the entrance of the opening, the line formed in front of it. As we took a spot in line I was able to take in more of the surroundings. My mother ruffled my hair absent-mindedly, what’ cha looking at Dillon? I stared around as people bustled around in many different types of attire. Clowns, werewolves, monsters of all sizes and types, this was unlike any Carnival I had ever been to.

Hey mom, what exactly is this Carnival de Muerte, oooh, my mother gave a little squeal of pleasure. It’s unlike anything you have every seen, she leaned into me they say that it is one of the most terrifying experiences of your life. She continued It’s a carnival that has different acts and every act has its own story. I heard they were all supposed to be separate shows, but the ringmaster stuck them all together and called it the Carnival de Muerte. I groaned, I hope it doesn’t take to long, my mother shook her head, no this is just an off show performance. You should see the ringmasters other hits, they are said to be even worse. We approached the ticket counter, yeah we want four tickets please". The ticket holder didn’t respond either staying true to his character or unable to, he presented us with four tickets. My father took them from the jester dressed in red and black. He had bells hanging from every point of his jester’s hat. His mask was of a skull face and when he handed the tickets to my father I noticed his gloves were stitched to resemble a skeletal hand.

My father took the tickets and we all moved into the tent. A semi-large stadium seating rose around a large sand pit. Two large poles hung on the opposite side of the pit, my mother pointed up to them, look Janet for the trapeze people. My sister clapped her hands with enthusiasm as I gave a disgruntled who hoo. We made our way through the masses waving too many people as he walked through and finally found our seats. It’s kinda small, my mother said trying to hide her slight disappointment with the Carnival. My father even sounded disappointed, I thought it would be a lot bigger. Trying to find a comfortable spot I added, Maybe he just didn’t have the money. Nobody responded because the lights deemed and spotlight began to appear.

I heard a soft noise, a noise that was indescribable. It was something that I had only heard on dad’s nature channels. I watched as black spots flew through the open door. They scattered around the room people screamed and began to cower falling to the floor. BATS, screamed my mother dropping immediately to the floor covering her head. I felt something collide with the back of my head and then twitter off. I rubbed it as I began to swipe furiously around my head. My hands slapping the swooping bats and then I head the twittering bats fly towards the center of the ring. They gathered around a small stage which sat directly in the middle. The circling bats created a giant bat ball as the crowd began to stare up from their frightened huddles.

The bats collided into each other creating a loud bang! A large cloud of smoke billowed into the air like a volcano. The spotlight focused on the small stage as a man waved through the cloud of smoke. That’s the ringmaster, my mother said her face covered in sweat as she looked relieved to see the moment of terror has passed. Welcome, welcome, the man shouted to the crowd. He was dressed in a red vest and white pants. His black boots had a shine like they had been polished with oil but instead of a traditional whip something more sinister lay in the man’s hands. A butcher knife was clenched in his young hands. He had blue eyes similar to sisters. I am Ringmaster Richardson, my mother nudged me, that’s the guy’s name Richardson. I withdrew from my mother, alright… Jesus! I stared at the man who looked as if he could still pass for a high school student. I began to laugh, Are you serious this guy doesn’t look like he could scare a kitten.

After a few corrective glances from my mother I grew silent and continued to watch the opening of the show. Tonight I will take you through many tales of horror… remember, he said holding up one finger. This is just a taste before Muerte three… so gather round and hold your family’s close. He raised the knife, ladies and gentlemen let me welcome you all too… the knife rose to his throat. My mother gripped my arm tight but my eyes were wide with horror. CARNIVAL DE MUERTE, he shouted as the knife traced his throat from ear to ear. My family and the audience stared as he gripped his neck in his own personal horror. The blood ran over his hands and poured down on the brown sand. He gagged and choked as he seemed almost surprised by his own reaction. The blood came out his mouth and he fell to the ground… dead. The lights went out, the show was about to begin, please let this go quick".

(To Be Continued)

Act I

The Muerte Bag

-Lost Stories of Muerte-

[ER]

-Extended Reader-

By

Robby Richardson

The Muerte Bag

(Intro)

By

Robby Richardson

The sun was low in the sky when Jason made his way back to the hotel. He had taken a spring break to New Orleans with a couple of his closest friends. However his friends had gotten drunk too quick and were now back at the hotel passing out hopefully ready for tonight’s upcoming activities. Instead of sitting around and listening to television or the constant regurgitation of four of his closest friends spewing out their liquor into whatever would hold the vomit. Whether it was the clogged sink, the filthy toilet or the wide bath tub it seemed every inch in the bathroom was covered with some sort of vomit. The very room began to stink and when this occurred Jason retreated to the streets. New Orleans was a lively town with people always traveling along the side streets. The cobbled streets gave it the traditional New Orleans’s feel or supposedly it did according to him. This was his very first visit down south and southern hospitality was something he was unfamiliar with. The street was lined with all two story building and shops occupied every building. Marveling at all the buildings and wished he had time to stop in every shop he only chose the shops that appealed most to him. He stopped in a fish hatchery to see millions of shrimps that would eventually be harvested and used in the many fine cuisines that New Orleans was constantly providing.

Laughing as he exited the hatchery he stopped at the edge of the small stoop and stared at his surroundings. Tourists were walking down the streets, in and out of shops laughing and waving variety of liquor bottles. Deciding to take a path that seemed off the regular trail, he noticed that less people seemed to be traveling down this part of the road. Hoping that this path would take him back to the hotel he made sure to keep the large cigarette box shaped hotel in sight. This street didn’t seem like it was made for tourists and most of the shops seemed to be closing down or at least being renovated. As the sun disappeared behind the sky a soft creaking came from a swinging sign that had caught his attention. It seemed like the only open shop on this street. The sign above a peeling red door read, Oracle de Muerte. Oracle de Muerte, he repeated as he examined the tiny hole in the wall place. The building looked to be the size of a closet, however it did not seem like it was a normal shop for Voodoo. Maybe it was something like Hoodoo, he had only ever seen that in the movies what did he really know about it?

Feeling himself shrug, he decided to take the chance and have himself a real cultural experience. He opened the peeling red door and stepped inside to find a room that seemed to have been an actual closet at one time. The air smelled of incense and candles lined every shelf as they wrapped around the small room. In the back was a bookcase filled with different bottles and jars each containing different powders and strange liquids. Next to the shelves was a beaded back room and directly in front of him sat a small wooden circular table. The beaded curtains parted and their stood a dark skinned woman with a face like melted candle wax. It was flat and small as if her head had once been shrunken. She had a black turban wrapped around her head and necklace made of what looked like bones. A small skull hung from her neck and goose bumps appeared on his skin when he saw that the skull was human. It had been shrunken to the size of a ping pong ball. Her eyes were wide as if she was surprised to see an actual customer walk through her door. Soon the awkwardness of the situation began to press upon him.

After several seconds, she gave a very firm and slightly frustrated, Can I help you? She asked it as if he was nothing but an inconvenience. He gave a faint little smile, yeah I am looking for some Hoodoo merchandise for my girlfriend and well… he froze when she gave a look that was warning. Get out, she whispered as Jason heard the hiss behind it, I was just curious I am interested in this stuff, I am actually going to study world religions when I go to college. Crossing her arms she moved closer to him, she wore a black dress with frails and lace and as she moved around the small table. She pointed her index finger around and in a mocking tone so this a joke to you then? No, I am actually really interested in it and would like to know more. In fact, I am actually a Wiccan. This is not mere Wiccan, Muerte is so much more, furrowing her brow, Muerte, is that a form of Hoodoo?

In her frustration she waved her hands and her black shawl fluttered in the air as if it had caught a violent breeze. This is not mere Hoodoo, nor Voodoo, nor anything you have ever heard of silly boy, Muerte is a way of life, she clenched her bosom as if trying to catch her breath. Opening his mouth to speak he was quickly silenced by her outstretched waving hands, now run along you gawking tourist run back to your simple lives, run back to your false world for only a few realized that this is more then a thought or a belief… it’s a way of life. Her hands caught him in the chest as he was being pushed out, what Muerte? Get out, she repeated as he began to plead, Wait I am ready to learn and I have an open mind. Please show me what Muerte is. She paused while he was mere inches from the door, to first understand Muerte one must read Muerte by author Robby Richardson. Outstretching her hands to continue his dismissal, you mean the new master of horror? This made her stop in her tracks her mouth twitched as Jason added, Well at least everybody says that he is going to be. If that washed up Stephen King would just retire. Taking a step back she studied him, what is your name? Realizing that he had caught her attention he replied, Jason, and you have read the book? Nodding as her eyes widened in suspicion, and you understood it? Trying not to snort he simple gave a quick, what was there to understand just some scary stories right?

Snapping her fingers she pointed to the rickety chair, I have based my remaining years to try and understand my Muerte and I know that if I had the time I could help you discover yours now but the ever pressures of Muerte demands my time. Well I want to learn help me understand it, I didn’t say that it was bad I liked the book. She traveled around the table studying him as she played with her shawls. Well let me first ask you this, what do you believe about Muerte? Shaking his head, it was just a simple book right? Only for the narrow minded, but you… your curiosity craves knowledge, craves the unknown. She moved around to the other chair, and for that I will fill you in on just a little. Straightening her dress, Muerte is so much more than just a book. It’s a way of life. It’s discovering who you are deep inside. It requires the death of you and the rebirth of your soul. Your soul, widening her eyes, yes only your soul shows who you truly are and with Muerte I embraced who I really am. I have traveled deep within my own self to find it and used the same methods that Robby Richardson used to discover his Muerte.

Unable to hide his curiousness, I’ll do it, I want to do it. HA, she smiled, Muerte has a price that nobody can pay, it is more than a book, more than a carnival… it is so much more than that. He smiled, you mean that stupid Carnival de Muerte, the one were that kid was hung in front of all those people. Almost stumbling out of his chair as the woman shot up, I am the Oracle de Muerte and you are not ready to understand the full extent of Muerte and what it has to offer! No, he shouted as she began to turn from him, I am you said I had an open mind and I do, I’ll give you whatever I have. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out forty dollars, here it’s all I have left to spend… take it. The mere fact that you offer meaningless money shows me your lack of maturity, but the fact that I offered it means that I am willing to understand it and see if… Muerte… is right from me. I have an open mind now I am asking you to show me what is inside. Her head lowered slightly as she seemed to hang on his words for what seemed like minutes. You do make a very interesting point, she leaned over and took the money off the table. She stared at Jason who could not hide the look of disgust on his face as he saw her take the money, hey I can’t pay the bills with spells and powders.

Taking the money, she folded it up carefully and placed it in a pocket of her black dress. Making her way over to the shelves she began to speak, to understand Muerte you must become one with it, you may see things you like and you might see the darkest parts of your very soul but in the end you will know your Muerte and understand it, she pulled out what looked to be a black satchel with a fine gray silk rope tied around the top. This is the same bag that Robby Richardson used to embrace his Muerte, I got it from the Prophet of Muerte… they call it the Muerte Bag. She turned around and made her way back to the table as the candles flickered in the room. Untying the bag she brought it over to him as Jason took it in his hand. The velvet material felt soft on his hands almost as light as air as he looked inside to see a strange silver powder inside. What is inside, she leaned in closer and whispered faintly, Muerte. She motioned for him to take a hit from the bag she waved her hand in her face telling him to breathe deep from the contents of the bag. Examining the bag one more time, he took a deep breath and let his curiousness seem to silence his inhibition. The silver powder flew into his face and as he took in a deep breath he let the powder sink deep into his nose and lungs. It blew in his face like a miniature sandstorm.

The effects were almost instantaneous as god seemed to outstretch her hand and cover the very sun. His body went numb as the chair seemed to slip beneath him. The fall to the wooden floor lasted an eternity. He watched her stand up from the table as her features began to grow as faint as a shadow. He felt his body jerk and twitch as if he was in a seizure. The world went dark as his vision faded to nothing he stared into the darkness as he felt his body twitch every now and then but the annoying shaking of his leg was the only constant movement of his body. His body twitched every several seconds like an electric charge trying to keep his heart from running out of juice. The darkness surrounded him as he prepared for this so called Muerte.

(To Be Continued)

Monsters Under the Bed

2.5

Flight from the Hospital

By

Robby Richardson

Chapter 1

Bury Me Alive

Jessica was running in a forest, running though the thick array of trees. It was dark and a slight frost was in the air. What was she doing out here? Who was chasing her out here? No, there was something out here that she wanted, something that she needed. She heard a voice. It was faint and as soft as a whisper like wind moving through the trees. Jessica, the voice seemed to echo through the entire forest. She could hear something just ahead of her. It seemed to be calling her, beckoning her on. Jessica. She continued to run deeper into the forest, no matter how fast she ran. She couldn’t catch up to it. Jessica kept running until finally she crashed into something. She fell to the ground sending up a small shower of dead leaves. Standing before her was a man in the same outfit as hers, the tired sky blue hospital uniform.

She just laid there on the ground staring at the man unable to see his face. Jessica stood up slowly, and then walked closer, Do you know why I am here? The mysterious person did not respond standing motionless in his place. He just continued to stare into the forest. Jessica inched closer and closer to the mystery person. She put her hand on their shoulder, Hey I am talking to you! She spun the person around to reveal her brother Chris, whose eyes were gone from his skull. Jessica let out a scream that rattled the very trees. He opened up his mouth to speak, but the absence of it would make talking near impossible. No… no, Chris you can’t be here. I thought fixed everything. I know about the forest but I don’t know what it all means! Chris sat their open mouthed, as his face began to droop his mouth growing wider, more oval shaped. No, Chris I fixed everything you should be at rest. The curse can’t control you anymore. He began to advance towards her, his mouth still wide open, eyeless sockets, and a rotting hand beginning to outstretch towards her.

Jessica fell again, but this time she fell into a giant hole. The hole was wide and long, and fit her body snuggly. It as almost like it was designed specifically for her like A grave she said to herself. Her eyes shot open as she began to claw at the sides of her grave, Please no, let me out. Coming up to the side of the grave, she began to claw more frantically Chris please let me out of here. He stared coldly down at her as he bent down and picked something up, it was a shovel? Chris began to shovel the cold dirt onto her. Chris began to fill up her grave, no please Chris stop! I am still alive! The dirt began to shower over Jessica and filled at an alarming rate. She clawed at the sides wildly and began to jump up and down. Trying to reach the side of the grave to pull herself out when a big patch of dirt hit her square in the face, she began to cough, and wipe it franticly. The dirt filled the grave as she continued to plead no, no please Chris stop, but he only started to go faster and faster. The dirt was filling her grave quicker, she grasped the edge of it, but Chris swiped at her with the shovel. She dropped into the grave, but when she looked up she saw the shovel colliding with the side of her face.

Jessica fell to the ground, the cold earth felt relaxing, but the side of her face was throbbing with pain. Her vision became blurry as she watched her brother resume shoveling more dirt into the grave. She could not move, whether paralyzed by the shovel or fear she couldn’t decide. She whispered one more time, please… Chris… I’m not dead… I’m still…

Alive! Jessica woke up screaming at the top of her lungs. She couldn’t move her arms and legs due to her being strapped down to her bed. Beginning to shriek and shake violently on the bed like she was having a seizure, she felt hands all over her as if trying to restrain her. She heard a man say, What the hell is all that? She felt a small prick in her right arm and soon her thrashing began to simmer and then even cease. She just laid there feeling the drugs pushing through her veins. A man leaned in to Jessica and asked, Jessica how did all this dirt get here? How are you covered in dirt? Jessica could only move her eyes as she saw a thin layer of dirt over the pearl white sheets. She began to drift off to sleep and seeing the security guards staring at the dirt that seemed to be scattering over the floor.

Jessica that is not possible, Jessica was once again lying on a couch, while a doctor examined her. The doctor was Dr. Keating, and he was worse than the last doctor that she had. She hated this doctor and it seemed like everything that she ever said was a lie. I tell you Chris tried to bury me alive! Dr. Keating began to write, Jessica that is not possible, because you are here talking with me, your living and breathing before me. I KNOW THAT, Dr. Keating was calm as he said, listen Jessica you need to calm down. Jessica sat up on the couch, Look Chris won’t leave me alone. Dr. Keating replied softly, Jessica, Chris is dead. Your family is missing and you feel guilty about not being there when they left. These dreams or visions of them are just hallucinations. This doctor started to sound like everybody else that she had ever known. The doctor continued to talk, but Jessica had gone quiet having already heard these arguments before. As he spoke his voice seemed to echo around the room. The words reverberated in her head as if it had turned into a giant cavern.

Jessica, you can’t always go quiet when we find flaws in your story. Jessica still didn’t talk or make any sort of movement. She figured that the meeting was over when she felt her body being hoisted into the air and the doctor was leaving the room. The guards walked her over to a chair and sat her down in it. They walked away looking upset she heard them say, She is very pretty, they other guard replied, was pretty, poor girl. Returning to her body Jessica put her hand through her hair knowing that her looks had been gone. What did they expect especially what she had been through?

Jessica noticed that everything in the room was growing quiet and dull. It’s like her hearing was going. However she heard a soft whispering like in her dream, Jessica. She could feel here heart beginning to race and water forming in her eyes. No, not again, she whimpered as she began to look around, she seemed glued to her chair. Jessica, it called as she leaned back in her seats. Staring around the room she noticed that all the patients had ceased their activities. They all stood like statues frozen in time, everybody literally frozen in their spot. Nobody moved in their absolute stillness, her fellow patients didn’t even blink. Something had caught her eye and it was moving within the patients, Chris, Jessica whispered. Chris was walking behind a couple of the patients as if he was stalking her. Chris, Jessica whispered again, you can’t be here, I saved you, and I set your soul free. The whole family should be free, you, mom, dad, and Haylie. He walked right behind a particular old looking patient and then disappeared. Jessica expected him to walk around, but he never reappeared, Chris… Chris are you still here? She whispered in a terrified moan feeling water in her eyes, and her body beginning to shake. Chris finally came around the corner, but he was now crawling on the ground towards her.

She wanted to run, but she seemed to be cemented to the chair still, she tried to move her arms but she couldn’t. Chris continued to crawl towards her twitching on the ground nails digging into the cement like it was warm butter. He crawled up to her knees, please Chris, your free, don’t you understand that? Chris crawled up to her face his breath permeated living death I will never be free unless you do what needs to be done. No matter if the house stands or not… and it still stands. Chris had no teeth, tongue or eyes and his skin was marble white. That’s impossible I burnt down the house, look at these scars Chris howled in a horrid shriek. You know what needs to be done, Jessica began to shake her head. I don’t… how do I set you free, he began to move his head side to side, who ever said I want to be free.

Jessica said, I should be dead though. I shouldn’t even be here. You shouldn’t even be here. We should all be together. I sacrificed myself to free you all. Chris shrieked, no one has ever escaped. I have been sent to bring you back. Bring me back where, Chris leaned in and whispered in her ear, Back to the house. Jessica screamed, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Chapter 2

The Question of Escape

Jessica was shaking in the chair, thrashing and screaming. She could feel hands trying to grasp her and hold her down. She heard people yelling, Calm down Jessica, who was still shrieking, I don’t want to go back! Jessica kept screaming and shaking trying to fight off the many hands that were attempting to subdue her. Jessica could feel them holding her down and something like a needle being forced into her arm. She kept screaming and shrieking, don’t put me to sleep! She turned her head, and saw Chris smiling widely to reveal a set of razor sharp teeth. She knew that he would move in to get her as soon as she fell asleep. She knew that he would be bringing her back to the house, the moment her eyes closed. Please Chris don’t bring me back, she felt the tears beginning to form in her eyes but the drowsiness was soon overcoming that. Soon, she fell asleep with all the security guards holding her limp body down.

Her eyes shot open and realized that she was back in her room. How she had survived or how long she had slept remained a mystery. There were no windows just an empty room with silver walls. Upon closer inspection, this was not her hospital room just the frame of it. There was no bed, no sink, no toilet, no nothing. She walked over to the door and began to run her fingers over the only giant window contained in the middle of the door. She eyed it suspiciously as it looked strangely familiar. She peered out of the glass seeing a strange ominous green glow out in the hallway. She could see that doors lined the hallway, and it looked as if shadows were moving in them. There were empty gurney beds that also lined the walls. She had seen this before, she had been here before. No, she whimpered her hands slamming against the glass window.

She had been here before in a dream, she turned around and screamed. Her body was lying on the floor of the room. She couldn’t believe her own eyes. Why was she laying on the floor? How could she be on the floor when she was standing at the door? She walked closer to her slumbering body and noticed hand marks on her neck. Jessica saw herself shoot up and started screaming and shaking grabbing at her own throat as if someone was choking her.

Just as quickly as it came, Jessica saw herself stop. A sense of calm came upon her face. She saw herself get up and she retreated towards the door. She was examining the room, and finally realized what Chris was talking about, this is how she escaped. She couldn’t exactly remember how she escaped, but was now not taking her eyes off of herself. Jessica now saw herself just sitting in the corner not moving. Jessica just sat down to watch herself sit in the corner crying into her hands.

Jessica sat there for hours, possible even days. She began to grow bored and began to wonder when she was going to do something. She stood up and ran to the door beginning to kick it. Jessica began to think, there was something different about her, she was not possessed looking. Jessica remembered how zombie and horrifying Brad was in her dream. Jessica noticed that she was acting how she normally did. Maybe the house wanted to preserve her the way she was, but why?

She pounded on the window but nothing happened it wouldn’t budge nor show signs of breaking. Slamming against the door she heard her other self fall to the floor again. She checked her pockets to find nothing in them. Jessica saw her other self beginning to rise again, trying to ignore herself she took her foot and drove it at the window one last time. It collided with the window, and it began to crack. She continued to smash it repeatedly over and over the cracks growing longer over the window. Finally a little piece fell from the window and then Jessica’s final blow made the window shatter to pieces. Clearing the rest of the glass with her sleeve she wiggled her skinny frame through the window.

The lights in the hallway began to flash as if the curse knew she escaped. She saw a door open and two little girls at the end of the hall. You can not escape, said the little girls in unison. Ignoring them Jessica climbed up a flight of stairs at the end of the hallway and then barreled through a door. She was now in a room, where it looked like there were no exits at all. Please, Jessica whimpered as she began to push and feel around the wall to see if there was a door. Something in the darkness grabbed her wrist. Its hand was cold as ice as Jessica let out a tiny scream. Her eyes were wide with terror as a marble face appeared from the only open door on the floor. A woman with long black hair came out from behind the wall her rotting skin seemed to fall off her hand. She had a simple Chinese face that had been replaced with scars and a weathered look of a rotting corpse. Her voice was rotten as well but Jessica had remembered her face almost from another lifetime ago. Sun, she said softly as her nails began to dig into her skin. I can help you out. Her whole body shook as if her strength was leaving her every second they touched. The little girls advanced on her their distance becoming shorter. You must take me with you, without even thinking on the subject, she just knew that she would do anything to make sure her family rested in peace. After all she had to finish what she had started, she wouldn’t fail them again. She nodded at her and emerging from behind the frame she took her arm and led her down the hallway without gazing back at the twins. She moved like smoke but was as solid as a rock.

Jessica could hear the twin’s footsteps as they approached them. She looked wildly all around but Sun pointed towards a spot in the ceiling. Her eyes fell on the ceiling it looked like there was something in it. She ran over to it and jumped up to it. She hit it as it bounced in its place, she had to dive out of the way when the top of the ceiling came crashing down to the floor. She could see another ceiling up there and jumped again. Her hands gripped the sides and she could see the door opening. A hand was stretching out from the door as it opened wider. She took a huge breath and turned back to Sun, who made sure that Jessica kept her promise. The moment Jessica turned to her Sun was already flying in the air and collided with Jessica’s face. It was weird having something stretching your mouth to the breaking point. As Sun’s whole being was shoved down her throat and found refugee within Jessica’s own soul. She wrapped around it like