They said the old newspaper building was haunted; no one went near it. Yesterday Terence laughed about it.
Simon asked, “How do you know? Were you there?”
Terence shut up—face reddened. “If you’re curious, you go. I dare you.”
Everyone went silent.
Heat slid down Simon’s neck. “Yeah, why not?”
**
Andy groaned, “Jesus, Simon, why’d you agree to it? Someone was murdered there.”
“Relax, it’ll be a piece of cake.”
At ten, the boys stood before the building.
“Dad said most of the work happened in the basement.”
“Come on then.”
Andy tried the door. “Locked.”
Simon dangled a key with a smirk.
Inside, darkness hung heavy around them until Simon’s flashlight cut through.
“Look, printing press.”
“What’s that?” Andy pointed.
A printing tray hung on the wall; red ink stained the letters.
The beam shook, finding meaning in the randomness.
Ar3u af@id
“Cheap joke,” Simon whispered.
“Wait.” Andy nudged the light.
You’77 8e n3xt Creek
The boys crashed together.
“Go! Just Go!”
“Grab a letter. Terence wants proof.”
They flew.
**
Where’s Simon?
“Didn’t you hear? Had a frickin’ asthma attack. He’s in the hospital.”
“Chickened out, eh?”
Andy dropped the letters. They rolled like dice.
UR N3%T
Comments
Be the first to comment.