Road to Hell
Shauna
It sounded like the noise a television makes when you tune it between two different channels and you can see all the static jumping around. I clutched my head. Despite sleeping, I didn't feel any better.
"What is that?" I asked Sherry, who looked just as confused as me. "Stay here."
I ignored her protests at being left behind and ventured out the little room we'd stayed in. I remembered quite clearly that when we'd first come here all the doors had been locked. Now every single one was lying wide open. My stomach twisted and I swallowed, suddenly fighting the urge to heave. What was it about this place that made me feel so sick?
Forcing myself to get a grip, I stepped into the hall and looked into the first room. It was empty and dusty, filled with stacks of metal chairs and old boxes. The next one was the same, and the following one after that. Eventually I came to a room that looked like it wasn't used for storage. There was a large board at the front of the room and in front of it were rows and rows of little desks and chairs, exactly like an old-fashioned class room. I bit my lip as I stepped in further, hearing the noise get louder and noticing a flickering glow coming from inside.
Sitting in the corner of the room there was a little girl sitting cross-legged, her back to me and surrounded by flickering candles. She was fiddling with an old radio, which was producing the noise of static we'd heard. As I took a tentative step forward I could hear her humming under her breath, as if she was listening to music. I stepped forward again, reminding myself it was just a little girl. While I drew closer, the girl giggled and whispered something, her mouth pressed right against the speaker of the radio.
"Hey there," I forced the words out, trying to sound friendly. The girl giggled again. "What are you doing in here?"
"I'm talking to my friends," she gestured towards the radio. I relaxed, felt myself smiling. Just a little kid who obviously wasn't too popular, making up imaginary friends like Sherry and I used to.
"Wow, that's cool," I took another step forward, then crouched down next to the girl. I could now see the little puddles of was caused by the dripping candles and hear the crackle and pop of radio static. "My name's Shauna, what's your name?"
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she giggled, then went back to humming under her breath, fiddling with the radio dial. As she did so, I noticed a deep cut on the back of her hand that looked angry and red.
"You're hurt! Want me to take you home?"
"I am home. I live with my friends."
She stroked the radio lovingly, as it were a pet or smaller child. A shudder ran down my spine.
"Well, do you have any other friends, maybe?" I asked, suddenly desperate to see an adult who could reassure me everything was fine. "Ones I can talk to?"
"Oh, my friends don't want to talk to you. They don't like you. They don't like you. They don't like you! They don't like you!" Her voice rose to a screech and I stumbled backwards, trying to regain my balance and stand up straight. But suddenly I was frozen in place. "They don't like you! You won't get out! You won't get out! They don't like you!"
As I crouched, pinned in place by shock and terror, the little girl turned around and I screamed and screamed until I could taste blood and black spots were dancing in front of my eyes.
From the back, she'd looked like a normal little girl. But now she had turned around I could see the bloody skin hanging off her face in raw strips; I could see her mouth filled with rotten, blackened teeth; I could see her staring at me with empty, maggot-filled sockets. She stopped screaming and stood there, staring. Despite having no eyes, she was definetly staring at me. I forced myself to stop screaming and swore under my breath.
"Who... Who did this to you?" I asked shakily. She giggled again, and it made me feel sick to hear a childish giggle come from something that looked so... hellish.
"My friends," she smiled, showing me the rotten gums that were missing teeth. "And they like me. But they really don't like you. So what will they do to you?"
She giggled again, and I felt my limbs free up and I scrambled away on my hands and knees, screaming for Sherry.
"What is that?" I asked Sherry, who looked just as confused as me. "Stay here."
I ignored her protests at being left behind and ventured out the little room we'd stayed in. I remembered quite clearly that when we'd first come here all the doors had been locked. Now every single one was lying wide open. My stomach twisted and I swallowed, suddenly fighting the urge to heave. What was it about this place that made me feel so sick?
Forcing myself to get a grip, I stepped into the hall and looked into the first room. It was empty and dusty, filled with stacks of metal chairs and old boxes. The next one was the same, and the following one after that. Eventually I came to a room that looked like it wasn't used for storage. There was a large board at the front of the room and in front of it were rows and rows of little desks and chairs, exactly like an old-fashioned class room. I bit my lip as I stepped in further, hearing the noise get louder and noticing a flickering glow coming from inside.
Sitting in the corner of the room there was a little girl sitting cross-legged, her back to me and surrounded by flickering candles. She was fiddling with an old radio, which was producing the noise of static we'd heard. As I took a tentative step forward I could hear her humming under her breath, as if she was listening to music. I stepped forward again, reminding myself it was just a little girl. While I drew closer, the girl giggled and whispered something, her mouth pressed right against the speaker of the radio.
"Hey there," I forced the words out, trying to sound friendly. The girl giggled again. "What are you doing in here?"
"I'm talking to my friends," she gestured towards the radio. I relaxed, felt myself smiling. Just a little kid who obviously wasn't too popular, making up imaginary friends like Sherry and I used to.
"Wow, that's cool," I took another step forward, then crouched down next to the girl. I could now see the little puddles of was caused by the dripping candles and hear the crackle and pop of radio static. "My name's Shauna, what's your name?"
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she giggled, then went back to humming under her breath, fiddling with the radio dial. As she did so, I noticed a deep cut on the back of her hand that looked angry and red.
"You're hurt! Want me to take you home?"
"I am home. I live with my friends."
She stroked the radio lovingly, as it were a pet or smaller child. A shudder ran down my spine.
"Well, do you have any other friends, maybe?" I asked, suddenly desperate to see an adult who could reassure me everything was fine. "Ones I can talk to?"
"Oh, my friends don't want to talk to you. They don't like you. They don't like you. They don't like you! They don't like you!" Her voice rose to a screech and I stumbled backwards, trying to regain my balance and stand up straight. But suddenly I was frozen in place. "They don't like you! You won't get out! You won't get out! They don't like you!"
As I crouched, pinned in place by shock and terror, the little girl turned around and I screamed and screamed until I could taste blood and black spots were dancing in front of my eyes.
From the back, she'd looked like a normal little girl. But now she had turned around I could see the bloody skin hanging off her face in raw strips; I could see her mouth filled with rotten, blackened teeth; I could see her staring at me with empty, maggot-filled sockets. She stopped screaming and stood there, staring. Despite having no eyes, she was definetly staring at me. I forced myself to stop screaming and swore under my breath.
"Who... Who did this to you?" I asked shakily. She giggled again, and it made me feel sick to hear a childish giggle come from something that looked so... hellish.
"My friends," she smiled, showing me the rotten gums that were missing teeth. "And they like me. But they really don't like you. So what will they do to you?"
She giggled again, and I felt my limbs free up and I scrambled away on my hands and knees, screaming for Sherry.