No Survivors

Chapter 3

Flashing neon lights surrounded the six, making them feel even more disorientated than before. The police tried speaking to them but they were all in shock. Jenna was staring into space, tears threatening to fall, while Rel cried into her shoulder, her body shuddering with sobs. Vic sat with his legs brought up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them. He let his flowing brown hair fall in front of his face, blurring his vision as he rested his chin on his legs, silent tears streaming down his face. Andy sat with his eyes scrunched up desperately trying to wake up, to find a way out of this horrific situation he was in. Amy hung her head while her long hair fell in front of her face, concealing her red, puffy, tear stained face. Her hands were knotted in her hair. Alex was crying uncontrollably, not just for Pete, but for his family, he knew more than anyone, the agony and torture they would be put through. He also cried for his own family, they had already lost Tom and now were about to lose him, Alex knew what happened when you messed with an Ouija board, he knew what game he was playing; No Survivors, and this time, there wouldn't be. She had been unleashed, Pete set her free, and he paid the price, now the rest of them would as well.

*Moments ago*

Pete sprinted to the door, desperately pulling the handle but to no avail. The darkness masked the horror about to unfold but the six still huddled together could hear the young girlish voice, coming from Pete's direction chanting; "No survivors, no survivors, no survivors..." The chanting ended with a giggle but the sound was drowned out by Pete's petrified scream. That scream turned into a gurgle. That gurgle turned into voiceless terror. The gruesome sound of ripping and tearing stunned the friends then an eerie thud sounded, followed by haunting silence. Piercing and shattering the silence, was the sound of dripping.

Drip, drip drip.

The crimson liquid fell from the mutilated upper half.

Drip, drip, drip.

It was followed by more and more. Steadily the deep red consumed the floor, staining it.

Drip, drip, drip.

The mutilated remains continued to be cloaked by the darkness, veiling the grisly sight from the six friends.

Drip, drip, drip...

Suddenly, directly behind Amy, a door squeaked open. Inside Amy could just make out the silhouette of old furniture, by the shape she could tell they were expensive, probably decorated and adorned with exquisitely detailed, handmade, carvings. The room was most likely beautifully decorated, once filled with angelic whites, celestial golds, soft pinks and burning orange, but now filled with dust and decay, nothing but a hazy reminder.

The once striking and elegant fireplace that now looked desolate suddenly set alight, the small dancing flame suddenly became an insane roaring fire kept neatly within the edges of the fire place.

Amy gasped and quickly turned her head back to the Ouija board before flinging herself backwards. She rolled backwards and ended up with one leg kneeling on the floor and the other in front of her. Her head bolted upwards, her hair elegantly sweeping backwards. As soon as her emerald eyes met the Ouija board, it was flung from the floor at neck breaking speed into the fire where it was consumed by the flames. The pale board turned black and charred, the planchette disintegrated into dust, the spirit was free, and they couldn't send it back. If Amy had not moved when she did, the board would have hit her and at that speed, it could have been fatal.

Painfully slowly, the front door opened, the pale silvery light seeped in and illuminated the gruesome scene. Strung across the floor, Pete's upper torso and lower torso lay in different places, both in a moat of blood. The look of pain and terror captured on Pete's face for eternity. With no other idea of what to do, afraid, traumatized and disturbed, they called the police.

*Present time*

Pete's mother and father had been notified and came sprinting down the street, the yellow glow of the street light exaggerating the concern and fear on their face. They arrived, spoke to the police, and saw the body. Pete's mother's eyes went wide with horror, his father couldn't comprehend what had happened. The years they spent bringing up, helping and loving, pouring their life and soul into the person they would happily die for, their son, was dead in the most horrific way. The parents stumbled over to the six, eyes wide, shaking uncontrollably.

"T-tell me this isn't real, please." She stammered in disbelief to her son's old friends.

The sobs stifled and all six pairs of eyes looked up to the parents, sadness and regret filled their eyes.

"We can't." Vic replied grimly.

Almost in unison, every single one of them broke down into violent tears as Pete's mother fell to her knees and cupped her face in her hands, her body racked with sobs. This wasn't a film ,they didn't cry elegantly, this was real; red and puffy eyes, running noses, loud and violent, uncontrollable, the tortured tears fell...