Sang's Ghost Story (A Short FF Story)

Hour Two: Luke

Hour Two (8:34 pm):

Making our way out of the garage, I huddle close to Gabriel, despite the fact I'm still snickering because he fell through the garage door after panicking over the thought of it being locked. I have to laugh otherwise I might cry. This place is going to give me nightmares and I don't ever, ever, have nightmares.

Only dreams.

Really good dreams about bathing in chocolate and eating candy canes.

And then someone licking that chocolate off me.

I smirk at the thought and quickly cut the image from my mind's eye. Now is not the time to take my thoughts out of the PG zone.

Once we're all in the kitchen, apart from Mr. B, who we left in the garage, we shine our lights around at each other. "Where to now?" Gabriel asks, eyeing the door to the basement with disdain.

"The master bedroom," Kota says.

Gabriel's whole body sags with relief. "Thank fuck."

My eyes stray towards the living room where that cabinet is, the one that is locked. I'm desperate to get inside, in hopes that it will give us more insight as to who was in this house, what they were like as people and what their daily lives were like.

But, that will have to wait.

For now, anyway.

I will be getting into the cabinet very soon.

I follow everyone into the master bedroom, our flashlights shining on the walls, up against the boarded up windows and towards the en-suite bathroom.

North, Silas, and Kota go into the bathroom, their voices nothing but a hushed whisper.

"Closets," Gabriel murmurs with a shiver, eyeing the closed doors of the closets that line the wall. "Good things never happen in closets."

Nathan chuckles and I grin. "Obviously someone hasn't had seven minutes in heaven," Nathan says.

"Too fucking right haven't," Gabriel says with wide eyes, shaking his head.

"You watch way too many horror movies in Gabe's presence," Doc says, pulling open drawers on an abandoned bedside table.

"I agree," Victor says quietly. "Maybe we should put a stop on horror's with Gabriel about. It makes him way to paranoid."

I turn away and cringe. I'm already jumpy enough in this house. I'm not about to admit that when we watch horror, I look under my bed and check the closets before going to sleep. Doing that gives me reassurance that I'm okay and I'm just being silly. That zombies, aliens, and that silly clown IT don't really exist. I sleep easy at night by doing this little routine.

Don't judge me.

I guarantee that Gabriel is just as bad. Maybe even worse.

"Hey. Victor come here with that little camera." Doc's voice brings me out of my thoughts and I follow Victor over to where Doc is.

In his hand is an orange pill bottle. The ink on the label is faded, only just readable. I squint, shining my flashlight onto the bottle in the doc's hand.

"Morphine?" I ask with raised eyebrows.

"Yes," Doc answers. "They're prescribed to Mrs. Sorenson. However, there are a load more different prescriptions in the drawer, and I can't quite work out exactly what she was taking them for."

"Any pills left?" Victor asks.

Shaking his head, Doc says, "No, they're just empty bottles." He places the bottle on the top of the bedside table and then starts pulling all the other bottles out of the drawer. "I'm going to see if I can figure out exactly what was wrong with Mrs. Sorenson for her to be taking all these. I mean, if she's on morphine then it must have been serious."