Status: Active.
Ghost in the Mirror
Chapter 3
~ 1 year later ~
Loud crying can be heard from the corridor, but it's nothing compared to the horrifying screams that are filling the house. Nothing compared to the loud sounds of a fist connecting with someone's stomach, nothing compared to the sound of a boot kicking someone in the face. The crying is from the 7 year old Ricky Olson, who is hiding under the bed of the room at the end of the hall.
He doesn't like this room, he never has. It was always cold and during the night noise comes from the room, small bangs or quiet whispers of wind. But right now, he's too focused on the dreadful noise coming from downstairs.
Soon it all stops, with one last cry out for help.
The house is silent, apart from the now muffled cries from Ricky. He's curled into a ball under the bed, his face hid in his arms and legs tucked into his chest.
Soon though, the sound of footsteps on the stairs can be heard. The harsh breathing becoming louder and Ricky's muffled cries doing the same. The heavy footsteps slowly wondering down the hall, and then the footsteps cease outside the door, only to be replaced by a shadow.
The door handle turns excruciatingly slowly, making a small creaking sound before the door is left to swing open. Ricky slides back further under the bed, until his small back hits the cold wall. His hold on the teddy tightens as the black boots come into view in front of the bed, and he squeezes his eyes shut when the man bends down.
"Richard, how rude of you, not coming to say hello to your father." A low and almost sinister voice calls out to him, Ricky just hides his face into the teddy and tries to ignore his father, hoping if he wishes hard enough the man would vanish.
But when a cold hand wraps around his ankle, and yanks him hard, Ricky realizes that it's not going to happen.
He lets out a small cry and kicks out, trying to break out of the painful hold, but of course it's no use. Ricky lets out a small squeak as he's pulled upwards to hang upside down, his dark hair hanging down from his face and the tears now very noticeable as they drip out of his light blue eyes.
"Pathetic, just like your mother." He sneers, making Ricky whimper slightly. But what he doesn't predict, is when his own father lets him drop to the floor, his head whacking on the ground and then vision starting to become blurry.
He's crying in pain on the floor now, but is trying to wipe the tears away so he isn't totally blind. But his movements get slower, and he feels tired. His eyes start to droop close, and the last thing he sees before passing out, is the dark boots in front of him.
Loud crying can be heard from the corridor, but it's nothing compared to the horrifying screams that are filling the house. Nothing compared to the loud sounds of a fist connecting with someone's stomach, nothing compared to the sound of a boot kicking someone in the face. The crying is from the 7 year old Ricky Olson, who is hiding under the bed of the room at the end of the hall.
He doesn't like this room, he never has. It was always cold and during the night noise comes from the room, small bangs or quiet whispers of wind. But right now, he's too focused on the dreadful noise coming from downstairs.
Soon it all stops, with one last cry out for help.
The house is silent, apart from the now muffled cries from Ricky. He's curled into a ball under the bed, his face hid in his arms and legs tucked into his chest.
Soon though, the sound of footsteps on the stairs can be heard. The harsh breathing becoming louder and Ricky's muffled cries doing the same. The heavy footsteps slowly wondering down the hall, and then the footsteps cease outside the door, only to be replaced by a shadow.
The door handle turns excruciatingly slowly, making a small creaking sound before the door is left to swing open. Ricky slides back further under the bed, until his small back hits the cold wall. His hold on the teddy tightens as the black boots come into view in front of the bed, and he squeezes his eyes shut when the man bends down.
"Richard, how rude of you, not coming to say hello to your father." A low and almost sinister voice calls out to him, Ricky just hides his face into the teddy and tries to ignore his father, hoping if he wishes hard enough the man would vanish.
But when a cold hand wraps around his ankle, and yanks him hard, Ricky realizes that it's not going to happen.
He lets out a small cry and kicks out, trying to break out of the painful hold, but of course it's no use. Ricky lets out a small squeak as he's pulled upwards to hang upside down, his dark hair hanging down from his face and the tears now very noticeable as they drip out of his light blue eyes.
"Pathetic, just like your mother." He sneers, making Ricky whimper slightly. But what he doesn't predict, is when his own father lets him drop to the floor, his head whacking on the ground and then vision starting to become blurry.
He's crying in pain on the floor now, but is trying to wipe the tears away so he isn't totally blind. But his movements get slower, and he feels tired. His eyes start to droop close, and the last thing he sees before passing out, is the dark boots in front of him.
♠ ♠ ♠
:)