Status: Its an old story | Everything before 'Restless' needs heavy editing.
Two Dead Boys
Before I Wake
Paris and Matt returned home , hand in hand just as they had left. Peter smiled at them as they entered through the front door. He sat at the small dining room table with a glass of lemonade taking a break from having finished moving what was left into the house. The afternoon was fading away and the house had become quiet. "Where's mom?" Matt asked looking about. The kitchen was her zone and for once she wasn't in it. "Still cleaning your room" Peter chuckled shaking his head. "It was clean hours ago" Matt let go of Paris' hand and her body shivered slightly. "I'll be right back" Matt called to her, Paris nodded "I wanted to check out the house more anyway," she said. Paris tried to hide her shivering body from Matt and Peter but her rigidness could not be hidden. As something had a firm hold of her hand. It was cold and rough and sent arctic chills spiraling through her palm and through her body. "Ok well be hungry you two, burgers tonight!" Peter said cheerfully. The two teens nodded and went about their way.
Paris felt as if she were being tugged along by this foreign force that had held her hand. Its hold wasn't tight or demanding so she let it steer her. Up to the second floor, past the rooms and then "the attic again?" Paris muttered as she followed the pull up the attic stairs. The door pushed itself up and open. Paris was breathless and her heart pounded uneasily as she entered the dark room. Behind her the door slammed shut.
"Paris" a low whisper floated on a stale breeze. Paris turned this way and that and saw no one "this place must be drafty" she told herself. Walking across the attic, minding the weakened old floor, she headed towards a dusty old white dress hanging stuck in time on a tattered vintage mannequin. Once over to it, she touched the hem of the long sleeve gingerly. It was grey with dust but anyone could tell it was once beautiful and simple. It looked her size as well. Paris gasped as something touched her cheek. That same cold rough texture. She froze and her eyes slowly looked to her side. There lingering in the shadows near the wall. For a brief flash was a chard vertical mass and a pair of shining green eyes. Covering her mouth to stop a scream the eyes saddened and the thing was gone.
Paris looked around for it, maybe she was losing her mind or maybe again it was just the dust getting to her. In her thoughts she became unaware she was backing up into the dress. Everything became unusually still like the air before an earthquake hits. The sleeves of the old dress floated into the air and brushed against Paris' skin. "Huh?" She breathed but before she could turn around she found herself constricted in the grasp of the sleeves. They held onto her pulling her back against the mannequin, holding so tight the empty sleeve seemed to be cutting into her skin. Paris went to scream, the fabric of the dress seemed to grow in quantity and wrapped itself over her mouth, Paris struggled against it, and soon found her body as a whole was absorbed in the tightening fabric. She couldn't breathe and tears slipped down her face. She screams muffled and distant. Heart pounded she fought to keep conscious, with lungs burning for air. The attic walls creaked and groaned almost angrily.
Paris's teary eyes widened as before stood the chard figure. It's eyes leering not at her but through her, past her as it reached for the fabric around her. It tore at the dress ripping holes but for every limb the burnt thing got free the dress would expand its fabric and engulf Paris yet again. But still the burnt thing tried. As it reached to free her mouth behind it, she could see ghostly figures behind it flashing like a light that needed repair they were there for a second, gone for a second and this repeated. They were inching closer. But the burnt thing didn't notice. she had to warn it somehow. As it tore free her mouth Paris let out a scream, the loudest she could but instead it felt more like a soundless shockwave. The burnt thing covered what would have been ears and turned around noticing the ghostly figures. It stood stone still before them letting go of its ears.
Meanwhile, down in the basement, Matt had gotten his mother to leave the room or rather she had finally finished cleaning it. However, his mind was stuck on the blood water that his mother had been using to clean with just a few minutes ago. However, it seemed he was the only one who notice the thick red liquid that was coming from the bucket and onto the floor. But this wasn't the first time this house had showed him weird things and for a moment he stood in the middle of his new room daring it to try and scare him again. His eyes darted to the jammed door were just before he had seen a mortician and a boy's figures behind the dusty dirty glass. And then like a knife a sound cut through his core. "Paris!?" He called darting up the basement stairs, through the kitchen, glancing around quickly, no parents. He ran to the second floor, all doors were closed. His eyes darted to the attic stairs. "There!" He thought.
Paris had been released from her fabric entrapment grabbing an old book she raised it in the air preparing to toss it at the ghostly creatures. However as the attic door opened they instantly vanished as did the burnt thing. And out through the poor popped up Matt's head. Paris blinked in confusion book still raised in the air as she sat collapsed on the ground. "Paris!" Matt pulled himself up through the door and ran to her. Kneeling before her. Paris exhaled and looked around book still in the air. "Paris what happened? Are you ok? I heard you scream" He asked his heart finally calming down in his chest. Matt brushed Paris' hair gently causing her to look at him. He took note of her wide dancing eyes. Paris shook her head and closed her eyes calming herself "don't worry him, not yet" she told herself. Opening her eyes Paris gave a silly feeble smile.
"I...I saw a spider" she said in a goofy tone. Matt skeptical but only for a moment gave a short chuckle and lowered his head to her eye level " A spider?" He chuckled again "you serious? You aren't afraid of spiders" He said. In her memory she could remember the ghostly figures, she could see their faces and the more she remembered something bothered her. "You didn't see it, it was huge, like fuzzy pet store spider, huge" Paris said finally lowering her book. Matt took it from her a stood up offering out his hand "come on its getting late I'm sure Wendy could use our help" Matt said. Paris took his hand and got up to her feet. As Matt lead her out of the attic Paris stole one last glance at the white dress before climbing out the door. And it hung there a lovely dusty dress. Untorn and unstretched like nothing ever happened.
Paris felt as if she were being tugged along by this foreign force that had held her hand. Its hold wasn't tight or demanding so she let it steer her. Up to the second floor, past the rooms and then "the attic again?" Paris muttered as she followed the pull up the attic stairs. The door pushed itself up and open. Paris was breathless and her heart pounded uneasily as she entered the dark room. Behind her the door slammed shut.
"Paris" a low whisper floated on a stale breeze. Paris turned this way and that and saw no one "this place must be drafty" she told herself. Walking across the attic, minding the weakened old floor, she headed towards a dusty old white dress hanging stuck in time on a tattered vintage mannequin. Once over to it, she touched the hem of the long sleeve gingerly. It was grey with dust but anyone could tell it was once beautiful and simple. It looked her size as well. Paris gasped as something touched her cheek. That same cold rough texture. She froze and her eyes slowly looked to her side. There lingering in the shadows near the wall. For a brief flash was a chard vertical mass and a pair of shining green eyes. Covering her mouth to stop a scream the eyes saddened and the thing was gone.
Paris looked around for it, maybe she was losing her mind or maybe again it was just the dust getting to her. In her thoughts she became unaware she was backing up into the dress. Everything became unusually still like the air before an earthquake hits. The sleeves of the old dress floated into the air and brushed against Paris' skin. "Huh?" She breathed but before she could turn around she found herself constricted in the grasp of the sleeves. They held onto her pulling her back against the mannequin, holding so tight the empty sleeve seemed to be cutting into her skin. Paris went to scream, the fabric of the dress seemed to grow in quantity and wrapped itself over her mouth, Paris struggled against it, and soon found her body as a whole was absorbed in the tightening fabric. She couldn't breathe and tears slipped down her face. She screams muffled and distant. Heart pounded she fought to keep conscious, with lungs burning for air. The attic walls creaked and groaned almost angrily.
Paris's teary eyes widened as before stood the chard figure. It's eyes leering not at her but through her, past her as it reached for the fabric around her. It tore at the dress ripping holes but for every limb the burnt thing got free the dress would expand its fabric and engulf Paris yet again. But still the burnt thing tried. As it reached to free her mouth behind it, she could see ghostly figures behind it flashing like a light that needed repair they were there for a second, gone for a second and this repeated. They were inching closer. But the burnt thing didn't notice. she had to warn it somehow. As it tore free her mouth Paris let out a scream, the loudest she could but instead it felt more like a soundless shockwave. The burnt thing covered what would have been ears and turned around noticing the ghostly figures. It stood stone still before them letting go of its ears.
Meanwhile, down in the basement, Matt had gotten his mother to leave the room or rather she had finally finished cleaning it. However, his mind was stuck on the blood water that his mother had been using to clean with just a few minutes ago. However, it seemed he was the only one who notice the thick red liquid that was coming from the bucket and onto the floor. But this wasn't the first time this house had showed him weird things and for a moment he stood in the middle of his new room daring it to try and scare him again. His eyes darted to the jammed door were just before he had seen a mortician and a boy's figures behind the dusty dirty glass. And then like a knife a sound cut through his core. "Paris!?" He called darting up the basement stairs, through the kitchen, glancing around quickly, no parents. He ran to the second floor, all doors were closed. His eyes darted to the attic stairs. "There!" He thought.
Paris had been released from her fabric entrapment grabbing an old book she raised it in the air preparing to toss it at the ghostly creatures. However as the attic door opened they instantly vanished as did the burnt thing. And out through the poor popped up Matt's head. Paris blinked in confusion book still raised in the air as she sat collapsed on the ground. "Paris!" Matt pulled himself up through the door and ran to her. Kneeling before her. Paris exhaled and looked around book still in the air. "Paris what happened? Are you ok? I heard you scream" He asked his heart finally calming down in his chest. Matt brushed Paris' hair gently causing her to look at him. He took note of her wide dancing eyes. Paris shook her head and closed her eyes calming herself "don't worry him, not yet" she told herself. Opening her eyes Paris gave a silly feeble smile.
"I...I saw a spider" she said in a goofy tone. Matt skeptical but only for a moment gave a short chuckle and lowered his head to her eye level " A spider?" He chuckled again "you serious? You aren't afraid of spiders" He said. In her memory she could remember the ghostly figures, she could see their faces and the more she remembered something bothered her. "You didn't see it, it was huge, like fuzzy pet store spider, huge" Paris said finally lowering her book. Matt took it from her a stood up offering out his hand "come on its getting late I'm sure Wendy could use our help" Matt said. Paris took his hand and got up to her feet. As Matt lead her out of the attic Paris stole one last glance at the white dress before climbing out the door. And it hung there a lovely dusty dress. Untorn and unstretched like nothing ever happened.