I Don’t Believe In That
It was opening night of the Grim Reaper Haunted House in town and it seemed like everyone in town was waiting in line. Brandon, Alex, and Josh showed up right after school so they could be first in line, but they ended up in the parking lot.
“This’ll be great!” Alex bounced with excitement. “I hear they brought in actors from Hollywood.”
“Liar!” Josh gave Alex a friendly shove into the cheerleading squad in front of them and laughed. “It’s all about where they chose to put it that’s important.”
Brandon sighed and shook his head. “You don’t really believe that nonsense, do you?”
Alex and Josh shot him the ‘shut up’ look they had perfected over the years. Brandon was the realist…the matter-of-fact…the one boring, stick-in-the-mud friend that everyone seemed to have. But, his logical thinking and rationing had kept them from getting themselves killed on many occasions, so they kept him around. Not to mention he was the one who always had the money to do cool stuff.
“Yes, someone was killed –”
“Gah! Someone? Someone? Get it right Brandon! Five people were killed…no, not just killed…slaughtered in this house.”
“Josh is right, man. Five people were mutilated by their own hired hand. Sometimes I wonder about you.”
Brandon sighed and shook his head harder. The line moved fairly quickly, which surprised everyone until they got closer to the ticket booth. People were only spending a few seconds in the house before running back out the front door screaming.
Alex looked at Josh and grinned. “SWEET!”
Brandon paid for the trio and marched stoically in front of them toward the entrance. “I don’t believe in any of that crap. They are just stories created to prey on the weak minded.”
The Grim Reaper Haunted House company set up a series of jump scares and costumed volunteers to line the enclosed black-light path from the ticket booth to the front door of the Flatly House where the murders took place so many years ago.
The screaming, laughter, and pushing and pulling from Alex and Josh quickly got on Brandon’s nerves.
“Knock it off,” he said, reaching for the door. “I told you already how fake all this stuff is, so stop being babies!”
The old iron knob was icy cold under his palm and he could see his breath as he turned the knob. As he opened the door ….
To Be Continued
To lead us off and see where the tale may lead, I am tagging a great writer who provides us with the FOWC prompt every day: This, That, and The Other.
- Copy the story as it appears when you receive it (and the rules please)
- Add somehow to the story in which ever style and length you choose
- Tag only 1 person to continue the story
- Have fun!