*COMPLETED*
A terrifying rumor taunting the city of Lakewood Pierce has everyone afraid to look in the mirror. To stare at themselves and say a simple "hello". Adolescent children prettified to the bone out of fear that something will get them not...
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The cold November air intertwines itself within his dirty blonde locks, the drawstrings on his black sweatshirt blowing over his shoulder as he petals down the street. Street lamps are still lighting up the sidewalks, being that it is three in the morning.
Leaves of all shapes whip out onto the asphalt, rolling like tumbling stones down the side of a mountain after a glacier. Oliver stands on his bike, petaling quicker to make it up a hill leading to her house, the house that now seems so alienated to his desolate and saddened mind.
He sits back down, hitting the brakes on his handle to stop the wheels and gears from spinning any farther. The tires screech due the the fact that the last time Oliver had ridden his road bike was when he was fourteen, almost four years ago, about to be five come July.
Oliver inhales a short breath, a hitch in his chest as he coughs it back out, his own breath visible in the frigid troposphere. He cranes his neck up to look at Amy's house, and he scrutinizes it sternly, an automatic temper filing into his veins.
He glances into each window, first the bottom floor, then the top, as if he's looking for something. All windows are closed and covered by tan shaded curtains, signaling that the residence is asleep. The porch light is still on, enlightening the front porch he has walked on so many times.
His brown irises travel to the second floor now, all windows once again covered...accept for one. Amy's bedroom window.
No curtains cover her window, for it is wide open with no screen in between the transparent glass and the roof a few inches below. Oliver finds this peculiar, for Amy hardly ever opened her window, and her parents knew that, did they open it? Mr. and Mrs. Hayes barely open any windows like that either.
Oliver hits down the kick-stand with his warn down shoes, the seams coming undone in every area. He strides around the bike, out into the middle of the street without even thinking much of it. His eyes are practically glued to the open window, contemplating if he should climb up and close it, or stay where he is, on the ground, safe.
It has now been a week since Amy's been gone, and every single day seems to be getting harder and harder for Oliver. The school has decided to cancel school for the week due to all the deaths, so that the students could spend some time with their families.
Oliver's mind averts to the thought of Amy being gone, something that his mind did very often. His eyes begin to glass over, he lifts a hand to wipe them away, but as soon as he does, he catches something moving out of the corner of his eye, up in the window.
He steps back a few feet to get a better view of the window, but finds nothing.
I'm paranoid, just go home, he coaxes himself.
No, you came here for a reason, to find any evidence that Amy could still be out there, he internally says, having a conversation with his mind and conscious.
He rubs at his eyes again, and that's when he sees something move again, this time, Oliver can make out a figure. A girl. He rubs at his now red and irritated irises one last time, and that's all it takes for the figure to appear completely in front of the window.
Oliver lets out a low gasp, one laced with unease and wonder. Standing in front of the open window, staring down directly at Oliver, is a girl with luscious golden-blonde locks and a sort of pointed nose, the girl's lips are pressed in a line, not smiling, or conveying any sort of emotion.
"A-Amy?" Oliver breathes, unable to comprehend what he's seeing. He steps forward again, only a few inches, as his head is fixed high, staring at Amy whose up in the window.
As he strides closer though, he notices something different, something that shouldn't be there. Amy's eyes are blackened, completely blackened. Oliver's expression changes immensely, to one of down right terror and confusion.
"Amy?" He questions again, skepticism heavily weighted in his low whisper tone.
"She's gone, Oliver, go home," the being opens it's mouth to say, but it doesn't sound like Amy at all. The voice that came from her throat, sounds of that as a tampered and layered tone, echoing every word as she speaks. The tone itself sounds as if it would belong to a man.
Oliver doesn't move, he's unable to.
"Go home! She's not coming back, boy, she's dead!" The being that isn't at all Amy states, leaning out the window to seem more intimidating.
He doesn't move again, completely unfazed to the sight he's seeing.
When he doesn't move, the being in the window steps out of it, and onto the slanted roof. But the creature controlling the body that looks like Amy doesn't walk normally, it bends, bends in places that it shouldn't.
The body drops low, its legs jutting out to the right, and its hands move forward, like they're dragging the rest of the body. Oliver just watches as it slithers down the roof, the body becoming bigger and lankier. He's still unable to move, his breaths heavy as the creature slithers off the roof, dropping down into the bushes and shrubbery down below.
One hand comes out of the bush, a hand that looks inhuman, and another one follows, claws present on each finger as they dig into the stones. As the drag against the stones, sparks fly, everywhere. The rest of the being comes out of the bushes, and Oliver's eyelids shoot up like rocket, his eyes trailing up the being's body.
There, standing in front of the frightened boy is a tall stature, wearing nothing but rags, it's body resembling that of a human skeleton, but it isn't. It's legs long, making the body reach well over seven feet. Horns sprout of it's temples, but it's eyes glow a midnight blue, looking like human eyes.
It begins to parade towards Oliver, one step after another, the creature in front of him being all bones, no skin. The scraggly rags that hand from the beast wave in the wind as it moves intimidatingly closer to Oliver.
At this point, Oliver seems to be released, for he's rapid to move around his bike, put the kick-stand back up and mount the bike. Within seconds, he's petaling at an accelerated speed, almost quicker than the speed of light. The creature stalking up to him doesn't follow, instead it stays behind.
It stands there, watching him disappear down a street corner, and that's when it begins to morph again. Smoke gathers around the creature as it shrinks down, the rags and bones disappearing as the body changes form, shape-shifting into a different form.
The smoke around the beast clears, revealing a familiar face with a wide devilish grin spread on his lips.
In the middle of the street stands Amon.
His midnight blue eyes staring down the street at a panicked Oliver, riding hurriedly back to his home a few blocks away.
With one last glance, he disappears, dissolving into thick, jet black smoke.
