Of Witches and Ghosts

Rotten

The repetitive dripping was enough to drive her mad. She had been walking in an endless void of black. The only thing guiding her was the bone-shaking whisper. The hiss was not human, nor was the tongue it spoke in.

Sam shakily reached for the compass artifact at her hip. To her absolute horror, the arrow was spinning endlessly.

Zoey... Sam pleaded. Hoping her sister would send her some sort of message. But the only thing she could hear was that whispering.

"Agh!" Sam cried out as her hair was violently yanked in the direction of the whispers.

Sam bolted. The whispering was getting louder; she could barely hear her own breathing. She nearly tripped when a new voice reached her ears.

"Sam..." Spoke a male's voice. Danny's voice.

"D-Danny?" Sam gasped out. To hear him was a ray of hope in this bleak Hell. "Danny! Are you there?"

She looked around. The ghost boy was nowhere in sight.

"Sam..." His voice croaked out softly.

Sam ran in the same direction as his voice. "Danny! Wait for me, Danny!"

As she ran, the ground beneath her bare feet turned to cold stone. The black void was turning into a hallway. It looked like a basement hallway, leading to a boiler room. The pipe system running along the walls was rusted and the bricks on the walls were cracked.

Sam could see a door at the very end. As she got closer, she found herself gagging as the air turned from the musty smell of old pipes to blood and brimstone. She shuddered; the door was soaked with malice and demonic residue.

Danny's voice echoed from behind the door. "Sam..." He sounded exhausted and in pain.

Sam sprung into action and kicked the door down. The scene before her would haunt her for years to come.

A blast of inextinguishable heat smacked her in the face; it was suffocating. The room was poorly lit, but that didn't stop her from seeing the terrifying demonic symbols all over the walls. Written in blood, no doubt.

Danny was hunched over on his knees. He was covered in cuts, bruises, and burns. Blood flowed down his face. He was still in his human form as his faded blue eyes looked up at her.

Run...his voice said. Run away...

Sam was completely frozen as she saw a tall, dark, masculine figure standing over Danny. In his grasp, he held a large dagger. There were no definable features about him; none, except for a pair of very striking, but very familiar red eyes.

Her vision...

Run, Sam, Danny said again.

"The clock is ticking, Samantha," spoke a suave, arrogant voice. He raised the dagger over Danny.

Run!
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"No!" Sam sprang up from her pillow. She clutched her chest as she desperately gasped for air.

Her whole body throbbed as her thoughts spiraled out of control from such a startling nightmare. The urge to dry heave rocketed up and down her throat.