(Happy early Halloween, everybody.)
Tom sucked in a breath and moved the curved triangular shape onto the board of letters. A through Z littered the board in an orderly fashion, with "Yes" and "No" at the top, and "Goodbye" at the bottom.
He knew that he shouldn't have been doing this alone, but he couldn't help himself. He needed to know. He needed to know if the noises he had been hearing, the repetitive nightmares he had been having, the shadows he swore that he saw out of the corner of his eyes, and the seemingly moving furniture around him, were all connected to one person.
"Are you there?" He spoke in a shaky voice.
For a moment, nothing happened. The air was still and static rung heavily in his ears. His heart raised in the hopes that nobody would answer from beyond the grave. But that was only for a moment, before he felt the piece under his fingertips twitch.
Tom bit his lip. He looked from the piece to No and back. He slightly pushed it towards the option he hoped for, but the piece didn't care. It moved towards Yes anyways, no matter if he had picked it up and slammed it down, it was going to Yes.
He cursed under his breath. A shiver went down his spine and he felt as if someone was breathing on his neck; someone was behind him. He looked over his shoulder and gulped at the empty space. Seeing no one didn't lessen his worries at all. He looked back at the board.
"Are you the one... the one doing the... the things?" he asked, hoping that that was specific enough, that he wouldn't have to elaborate.
He felt the piece move again. It chose to circle yes and then stop. A moan rumbled up from his throat and he clenched his teeth to halt it midway. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, though it went right to one question he dreaded. Because he feared the answer. Because he knew the answer.
"What's your name?"
His hands shook but the piece did not, it simply glided, as if it was having fun and wanted to get right to the answer to see his reaction. Always so straightforward, he remembered the piece was.
It went to T first. That was enough to cause a rush of adrenaline to get the fuck out of there. He wanted to leave. He really wanted to leave. But an invisible chain kept him there, eyes wide and mouth dry.
At O, the piece stopped again. A calming thought entered Tom's mind just then. A thought that maybe the piece wasn't spelling out the name that he dreaded.
The eyeless boy clenched his jaw tighter at the next letter: R. One letter away from the name that he feared the most. All hope was lost in him and he was left a pale mess on the floor of his living room with a haunted board in front of him.
Tom shut his eyes. He swore he heard the familiar chuckling that kept him awake at night. It held the same accent and tone from when he heard the physical being let it out. And then the piece stopped, and Tom forced his lids to open and reveal the horror that was the last letter: D.
Tord.
A tear that he didn't knew he had trickled down his cheek. He shook his head repeatedly, not wanting to accept it. Not wanting any of this. The memories began playing in his head, and he was forced to watch them amble by.
The memories swept by backwards, from present to past. The shattering glass that he heard last night and that left an aching cut on his foot. The telephone still ringing even after he unplugged it, forcing him to smash it to bits out of fear and lack of sanity. The times where he saw the shadow of the devil out of the corner of his eyes.
They all became a blur, then refocused on the day that he killed a man. The man that he had held so much hatred towards. The man that ruined his life. The man that ruined him.
He suddenly cried out, "No!" not even realizing until after it happened that he had said it out loud.
The piece flicked towards Yes.
He wasn't able to get a sentence out without stumbling over his words or screaming, and he knew that, so he stuck to one word at a time. "Why?" he whimpered.
He let the piece travel across the board, keeping track of the letters half heartedly. It seemed to take forever for the sentence to be written, and Tom was fine with that, yet not at the same time. He was fine just waiting forever here, never getting an answer to the question, never hearing nor seeing any other supernatural events occur. Just sitting here.
He also wanted to be doing anything but this. He wanted to go out and go on adventures with his friends and not care about going insane. He wanted to not have to be constantly fearful of being harassed by this ghost. He wanted to be happy again.
He wanted anything but this. Absolutely anything. The ghost was horrid enough as a human. Now he was back, and he knew that Tom was mighty fearful of spirits. He had used this to his advantage. He had- He had- The piece stopped moving.
"IF
I
GO
DOWN
YOURE
COMING
WITH
ME."
Tom shook. His whole body seemed to convulse in terror. He shook his head rapidly. "No, no, no-" he muttered. He shut his eyes tight and clenched his jaw just the same. He heard his pulse and then the chuckling again. The piece moved under his hand.
He pulled against it, but his hand seemed glued down to the haunted object. It was moving him against his will, even as he tried his hardest to move away. His eyes shot open and he saw fingers over his own for a split second before they disappeared and his hand was released.
Tom grabbed the board quickly and picked it up, forcing the piece to fly across the room. He raised his knee and slammed the board down onto it, successfully breaking it in half. He stood and threw the two halves onto the floor, the raised his heel and smashed it into the wood, damaging them further. He took two steps back and looked toward his carnage, then went back to it and threw the broken pieces of wood at the wall.
He breathed heavily through his mouth and wiped the surplus of cold sweat off of his forehead. He collapsed back onto the floor and clutched his head in his hands, letting out an unintentional moan. He stayed like that for a while. He couldn't think at the moment, he could just barely breath.
With a heavy sigh, he looked up and around at his mess. There were a few dents in the wall, and pieces of the board littered the room. He moved without thinking towards a broken part and saw the triangular piece on top of it.
In the little light that he had, he could see that the piece was atop the word Yes. He felt the presence behind him once more and hesitated before looking up to the wall. A shadow of a man with devil horns stood above his own, and he heard it's horrid chuckle once more.
