Strange (boyxboy)

3

By the end of the day, Oliver was entirely too exhausted. His mind was frazzled and he could feel his eyes drooping. Today, for some reason unknown to the Albino-like boy, had been tiring. It had started a little after lunch when the change began, subtle but still there. Oliver had slowly become colder, and he constantly saw things from the corner of his eye. It was disturbing, and by now he was lethargic. He had called Harley to come pick him up because he knew that if he tried to walk home by himself, he'd pass out.

Sitting on the curb, Oliver gripped his hands to his chest and blew on them, trying to get some warmth back in them. He jumped when an arm went around his shoulders, looking over only to see Quinton looking at him worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Oliver nodded and looked down at his feet. "Yeah, just... Sick."

His body was trembling and he could feel his head falling to the side, resting on Quinton's shoulder. He had no idea what was wrong, he'd never felt anything like this before. Maybe something similar when in the presence of a not so nice ghost, but they were distinctly evil and wanted to cause harm. The only ghost he'd seen since being in Greenfield was Quinton, which looking back on it was strange.

By now, Oliver should have met dozens of lingering spirits, but the friendly nerd was it so far. He didn't know if that fact was relevant to his sickness, but he knew he should look into it. Ghosts were everywhere- hiding, waiting, and watching.

"Quinton?" The male asked as he lifted his head slightly.

"Yes?"

"Where are the others?" Oliver's voice was serious, and Quinton knew it.

Oliver watched as blood drained from the nerdy boy's face. "Um..." Quinton stuttered and scratched at the back of his neck. "W-what do you mean?"

"I mean, where are the other ghosts? I know you know. Tell me." Oliver was demanding, he needed to know. From the feeling in his mind he knew something big was happening, and seemed that Quinton knew whatever it was. "Quinton, tell me."

Quinton was looking around in fear, as though he was terrified of someone, or something. "I-I can't tell you!" His eyes widened behind his glasses as he looked at something behind Oliver. When the other boy turned around he saw nothing, and when looking back to where Quinton had been the nerd was gone. Before he could do anything else, a hand landed on Oliver's arm and he yelped, but upon raising his head saw Harley. Her silvery eyes were wide and her pink hair was pushed back. "You okay, Casp?"

He nodded slightly and let his aunt help him up.

***

As soon as Oliver was alone in his room he was searching. His laptop sat in front of him as he typed into the Google search bar 'Greenfield, Iowa' and let it load. Slowly, several different articles popped up and he clicked on the first one, which was titled 'Local Teen Still Missing' and from there it began.  This article lead to another, and another, and then it was final. After going through it all, Oliver counted fifteen missing teens. All from Greenfield, Illinois. That was just from 1994, though. He almost positive that if he looked back farther in the library he'd find more.

Oliver sighed and ran a pale hand down his face, just wanting to sleep. All the disappearances weren't coincidental, and he guessed that none of them were even alive. If what he felt was anything to go off of, they'd been taken by the same person and murdered. Where their spirits were, he had no idea.

A light touch to the pale boy's hand made him look up and smile. His cat, Jeff, was resting against him. And though Jeff may have been hit by a car six years ago, he was still here. The cat was very much dead, but had luckily been smart enough to stick around.

"Hello, Jeffy." Oliver said tiredly, petting the black hair. "How are you today?"

All he got in response was a nudge for petting and a muted meow. Not that he expected anything else.

***

The next day at breakfast Oliver felt a lot better, his temperature was back to normal and he no longer felt the urge to lay down and sleep.  His mind was still clouded with thoughts of what he'd read last night, though. Instead of eating his cereal, he simply let it turn to mush and stared blankly at the bright kitchen walls that were painted an odd shade of purple.

"Still alive, Oli?" Harley asked as she walked into the kitchen. She was holding a large flower in one hand and was trying to put it into her teased hair.

"Yeah, I've just got a lot on my mind." The boy replied in a monotone voice.

"Wanna tell Aunty H?" The woman teased.

Instead of some sarcastic reply, though, she was asked, "Do you feel like there is something off about this town? Any bad vibes?"

Harley's tan face drained and she turned away. Her hands fisted the light material of her skirt and thoughts ran through her head. She couldn't help but think of her most recent painting. It was of multiple dark figures trapped in a lightless room. All were faceless, but a distinct feeling of fear radiated from them, as though they were in trouble. Behind them had stood a large entity. Eyes cruel and mouth marred, decorated by two deep gashes- one on each side. A Chelsea grin. Before them was a savior, a boy encased in light. Oliver.

Everything was one giant red alert.

But Harley just smiled and shook her head. "There is nothing wrong with this town, Casp. We're fine."

A/N

Sorry for the VERY late update. I've been so busy and exhausted lately!

VCF