READER'S DISCRETION ADVISED: This story contains scary elements which I cannot span the farthest reaches of without ruining the effect I mean to put them to. Simply know that this story contains grotesque subject matter that may cause nausea,fainting, and harshly worded responses by angered parents of younger readers. Inspired by close to a year's worth of activity back on the grid of KHV, and the Halloween season, I have written a tale of horror sure to leave you guessing who will get out alive. Do not be fooled by the title by any means: There is nothing "Basic" to this story save for the false sense of security you are sure to find yourself in when first starting the journey. To make it more personal: Dearest friends, ghoulish beasts, and fan favorites abound in this haunting feature which is scripted by a writer long nurtured by Alfred Hitchcock, Vincent Price, Edgar Allan Poe, and the night anxiety which manifests into the suspenseful thriller which will soon unfold. Please feel free to take large doses of caffeine and read each chapter at night in the dark, under the cover of night; the luminescence of your computer should do to provide ample light enough to read murder by, but not enough light to save you from the wordy demons lying in the pixels below. For those who are difficult to scare: I deeply apologize for your desensitization, because you may be at the disadvantage of not enjoying the gore to follow. In order to assist, those with complaints will be offered shock therapy to return you to a more basic realization that there are things that go bump in the night; and there are regretably things that can hurt you, even if they cannot touch you. Happy reading. ~ Sebax Prologue: The figure walked into the room at last. “I hope I did not keep you gentlemen waiting?” When it comes to mysterious figures, there are typically two indicators of identity: physical appearance and voice; this figure had neither. Dressed in a suit purchased online from a provider of custom-made Organization XIII suits, the figure spoke with a monotonous, lifeless voice; filtered by a deep, robotic electronically-synthetic vocal mask. “Are you kidding? We were about to leave!” A boisterous, hefty deep-voiced shadow boomed from a table that smelled richly of mold. “Is this true?” The figure turned to the shadow’s comrade at the small table; situated in a small, dank room. “Well, I’m a man of needs.” This voice was low and gruff, and sounded defensive. “Namely, I need some booze and some… well…” He grinned with yellow teeth in his rotting jaw, and chuckled huskily. “A man has certain needs.” “Point granted.” The figure replied. “I also have needs; less rank, but perhaps equally grotesque needs. Will you be able to provide the border patrol?” “I think there’s a few friends I can dig up.” The gruff voice replied. “And you’re going to let me have my fun?” The boisterous voice burst in. “But of course. A deal is a deal. You know which ones you may have for your games.” “I could get hungry.” The brutish shadow reminded the opposing figure, slamming his fist down on the table. “The same ones you can have for your games are the same ones you may have for your soup pot.” The tone was casual, uncaring. The boisterous shadow hooted with glee at the notion. “Oooooo…. Delicious!” “They are bugs under my boot anyway; they forget who is the composer and who are the notes. And this is the reason for two things: One, why they must pay, and two, why you two are here to ensure that.” “When do we start?” The two obedient lackeys responded in unison. Music pervaded the darkness, and shook the ceiling of the tiny concrete room. All three looked up in curiosity and dark contentment as rich, heavy velvet beats shook the basement below where the plotters waited. “Soon. Very Soon.” Chapter 1: The Party “Dear Sebax, I would like to express my thanks in regards to you accepting my invitation to the first annual “KHV Halloween Masquerade”. A few notes to take into mind before you arrive: The address is 665 Cork Street, in Freeturn, Massachusetts. It’s the large, stately mansion on the hill that cannot be missed. Professor Imogen Yawn has facilitated her home to accommodate our little party, and has provided everyone with a guest room should they wish to stay the evening. You will be addressed by your KHV username, and you will address others by theirs. Check the top of this letter to be sure your username is accurate. However, chances are: if you are more popularly known by a nickname other than your username, it will be acceptable for people to call you this instead. Be sure to show up in costume. It is a masquerade after all. The atmosphere will be family friendly, but please keep this a private party. There will be no alcoholic beverages provided. The obligatory “Have fun!” request. Sincerely, Krowley" It was the seventh time since getting off the bus that its carrier had looked it over nervously. Sebax. He supposed he was “Sebax” effective-immediately, but at the same time he expected to hear “Base” more once he reached the end of the winding cobblestone path that led to a large ebony Victorian-Age mansion. Sebax bit his lip, whilst taking in the mostly dead scenery. He was relatively young, but probably not the youngest he expected to be at the party, given this was his last Halloween as a true teenager. Physically, he was slender but fit, with a lighter complexion, black hair that was slicked back to fit his costume, and bright hazel eyes that scanned the area with anxiety; night itself made him anxious, but he was looking forward to actually meeting the group of users who he had been Role-Playing with in the KHV Arena in the past year of his return to the site after a lengthy hiatus. Dressed as the Phantom, Eric, from “The Phantom of the Opera”, he was far from warm as he neared the large oak doors of the mansion; his thick black suit and cape braced the heavily chilled late October air, while his white porcelain mask covered at least half of his tingling face. His gloved hands rapped on the thick wooden portal hastily, since the rest of him trusted the house would be warmer. “Hello?” The door glided open to reveal the small frame of a young man. Sebax was thin, but this individual pressed the envelope; there was something almost feminine about the answerer’s overall appearance, but the countenance as well as the voice was there in enough supply to assure him that he was addressing a male in a butler’s uniform. “Sebax.” His teeth chattered from the exposure to the fall chill. “Sebax, huh?” The doorman replied, stepping out onto the concrete steps in front of the house with a notepad in hand. “Let’s see… Dinny, HoT, Jayn, Misty, S… Sebax. You’re here. Come right in, the party is going on in the foyer.” The tiny man guided Sebax into the house where the melody of “The Monster Mash” was flooding the halls. In nearly no time, they took a right through an archway in the rustic, old-fashioned setting and they found themselves in a large, open area that fit the Gothic theme of the rest of the house. Tripods with flickering candles stood here and there, with luminous black electric chandeliers hanging from the ceiling; the room was surprisingly well lit for somewhere so based around the color black. If anything, the setting looked much like the foyer from Tim Burton’s “Dark Shadows” movie, but peopled with very different personages. “My name is Horatio; let me know if I can be of assistance, meanwhile, I’m afraid there are still guests to arrive.” Sebax nodded his confirmation, but he thought it odd there would still be people showing up after 9:00 PM; the grandfather clock nearby and his mobile phone both reading thirty-five minutes passed eight o’clock. Not only that, but the party was well ahead and plenty of people had already shown up. Grouped together near the snack table were seven people: A taller, husky man dressed in surgical scrubs with reddish hair, a black-haired young man dressed in a khaki shirt and shorts, a dark-skinned young woman dressed as a modern nurse, and a tiny Asian-looking young woman who resembled Horatio almost, before he recognized she was wearing a tuxedo, and that she looked quite a bit like Dinny. In fact, the first three resembled what he knew of Myst, Glexn, and Jayn. The remaining three were dressed as a zombie, one as a vampire, and the last as… well he wasn’t sure, but he could tell the last young man was probably the youngest teen in the room, and had a look similar to Hugh Jackman’s “Van Helsing”. The vampire was not particularly pale, so Sebax could tell almost immediately that the Vampire was HoT, or “Hector” he would probably use instead, and the Zombie looked like Beuce under heavy gore make-up. Some distance existed between him and the others, but he reassured himself that these people were decent people; the fact they were already talking to each meant it wouldn’t be a night where everyone dared not to talk to that person they met online. Myst was the first among the group to spot him, but did not give the warmest of welcomes. “Base. No capes. You and Hector really should have learned that from me by now.” Myst shook his head and took a sip of the red punch he had taken a cup of from the crystal bowl on the table. “Hey, I haven’t heard much from you since Cupid’s Brew.” Said Nurse Jayn. “What happened to that “Survival” RP you mentioned forever ago?” “Oh, I kinda got busy with school. I made the transition into college recently, so my schedule has been pretty packed.” Sebax replied, relaxing into the situation, despite the fact everyone’s eyes were on him; the new arrival. “Is it going to be Sebax or Base?” Gexln asked in his noticeable Australian accent. “Either works, but I figured everyone would be calling me Base most of the time. Glen, I’m guessing?” “Right. Betcha can’t guess my costume.” Gexln elbowed Sebax playfully while the latter made his way to the start of the buffet. “Crocodile Dundee?” Sebax guessed as he slopped a serving of warm roast beef and mashed potatoes onto a plate, aside some Sweet Chilly Doritos. “Close.” Gexln “Hunter.” Sebax smiled as he ladled some cola for himself. “Crickey.” “Has anyone seen Krowley yet?” Piped in Dinny. “I was pretty sure he went down to the basement, but he’s been gone for a while now.” “Not to worry, he’ll be up shortly.” A new voice echoed from across the spacious room as an older woman, probably in her early to mid-thirties, spanned the distance to reach the gathering. She was average height with vibrant red hair, a sharp face, a thin frame, which she adorned with a scientist’s white lab coat and thick black rubber gloves. “This old house of mine has vermin problems like crazy and dear Krowley was helping me sort the problem out… well…” She sighed heavily, “Most of the way, anyway. Who are you?” She asked with interest towards Sebax, who was caught with a mouthful of food at precisely the wrong moment. “This is another K. H. dash vids user; Sebax, but mostly everyone has called him Base.” HoT replied for his occupied friend. “Base, this is Professor Imogen Yawn.” “The one whose mansion this?” Base gulped down his food hastily. “You have a magnificent home.” “Why thank you.” The Professor replied appreciatively. “How old is-” Base started to inquire, but he was soon cut off a voice he recognized take up a mic and come over the speakers playing the music throughout the mostly vacant space. It was at first a monotonous, robotic voice that Base figured was synthesized by the microphone, because soon after, an even more recognizable voice (Krowley’s regular speaking voice), was heard by all in the room. “Greetings, Players.” Said Robo-Krowley, soon followed by Krowley, who was dressed in Victorian-Age garb, and Sebax could tell by the hair and mustache alone that Krowley had come to the party dressed as Edgar Allan Poe; personally, he had guessed Krowley would go for the Crypt Keeper or the dummy he used regularly for his creepier avatars; Poe seemed pretty fitting nonetheless, all the same. “I am pleased to welcome you to the first ever “Annual KHV Masquerade”, and I’d like to know: How is everyone enjoying the party?” “Meh” Said Doctor Myst and Zombie Beuce. Everyone else cheered. It was midst this cheering that the microphone fell to the floor; the thud was amplified by the speakers and echoed through the halls. Everyone stopped cheering and started rushing the moment Krowley dropped to the floor. Chapter 2: Hell Broke Loose “Don’t worry; I actually am a trained professional!” The “Mad” scientist Professor Imogen rushed for the convulsing mess of Krowley on the floor. As the good doctor knelt beside him, the unfortunate soul began to babble and foam at the mouth before clutching tightly to the Professor’s lab coat. A single “Urk!” and the loosening of Krowley’s grip signaled his sudden departure from the world he was leaving agape. “What just happened?” Myst was the first to speak following a lengthy, quiet pause; no music played, and only the night could be heard. “I hope there’s still time to set things right!” A new voice burst in with the entire house in attendance; a tall, lanky skeleton in a black pinstripe suit and bat-shaped tie strode with long bony legs into the chamber where Krowley had expired. The look of concern upon his skeletal face almost distracted everyone else from the sheer power of his presence, but even given the circumstances: Jack Skellington was noticed. “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” Sebax shook the house with the velocity of his voice; the room shuck as well as the tables, and everyone, Jack included, had to balance themselves as the room suffered what felt like an earthquake. It was not the power of Sebax’s voice, but rather it was the acts of the three ghostly hitchhikers rising from the floor, appearing from a portrait on the wall, and climbing down on the chandelier respectively. “When the Crypt doors creak and the tombstones quake.” Sang the first. “Spooks come out for a swinging wake!” Sang the second. “Happy haunts materialize and begin to vocalize:” Sang the third. “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice!” They harmonized in barber shop-style. It was only then that the room ceased to shake as the tiled floor beneath them burst violently like a greasy cyst to reveal something far worse and more gruesome than any single cyst could produce: The Ghost with the most. “Please tell me there’s booze at this party!” Beetlejuice’s gruff voice shouted as he hung triumphantly in midair, levitating high above the mortal denizens. “I like promises to be kept!” He added as he glided to the ground towards Dinny and grabbed her by the waist. “Well, I like the promises kept, but that don’t mean I keep’em!” He whipped back his shock white, mossy hair and snorted as he laughed. “Like: “Don’t use those puppies for target practice!” or “don’t throw my grandmother out the window!”.” He voiced the horrified people he had scared in the past. “But when you say: “I’d like to hire a Bio-exorcist to get some breathers out of somewhere-” Dressed in a leather duster upon his arrival, he released Dinny and spun himself into his trademark striped suit and grinned wickedly. “It’s showtime! Oh, by the way, did ya hear about my sequel?! Can you believe it? I’m trying to get that Depp fella to play me this time; Keaton was batty thinking he could pull me off.” His voice went crazed and he grabbed himself inappropriately. “This can’t be happening.” Jayn mumbled in disbelief. “Well, Hello.” Beetlejuice noticed Jayn as she spoke and waltzed over to her with a goofy jaunt. “Hi there. Name’s Bee-… You know what, titles aren’t important. You know what is?” He instantly turned nasty and growled at everyone else. “Doing my job and getting rid of you saps!” In an instant, Beetlejuice was gone, and what replaced him was a giant rattlesnake with a vaguely Beetlejuice-like head. “Which one’s first?” “Get out of here! I’ll try to keep this villain at bay!” Jack Skellington used his spare but lengthy frame to put some distance between the party goers and the deadly snake. “Awwww. That’s cute. Skully’s jealous that I get more screen time.” Snake Beetlejuice guffawed and opened his fanged maw. “Take him out boys.” Beetlejuice whipped his rattled tail at the skeleton and directed to the Grimm Grinning Ghosts to head after the former-revelers; they obliged, and took flight. “I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.” Beuce couldn’t refuse the opportunity. “I am!” Sebax replied, a shaking mess of nerves in the face of the adversity. “This is a bad like a bad ‘80’s horror movie!” HoT exclaimed as he tried to turn tail, but only wound up tripping on Sebax’s cape; the two of them fell to the ground in a heap. “No capes!” Myst chided in his own form of an ‘I told you so’. “999 ghosts. I ain’t one of them, but there’s plenty of room for one more, kiddies.” Beetlejuice hissed as he wrapped his tail around Jack Skellington and threw him hastily aside with a single flick. As he spoke, ghosts came pouring out of the walls by the dozen. Some flew, some waltzed, and some nosedived straight at the KHV users. “I am really not afraid of no ghosts.” Jayn said with indignation as she hit the stereo system, and the “Ghostbusters” theme started to play; the vacuum in her grip whirred to life as she stared down the very ghost headed straight for her. “What a woman.” A wanton snake blubbered as he watched Jayn suck the unsuspecting croney ghost into the bag of the vacuum. “There’s only one thing to do here. I want out of this line of work.” Beetlejuice returned to his natural, horrible form just as Jack returned to his skeletal senses. “How ‘bout we become Misty and Missy Beetlejuice? DARN IT I SAID IT!” Beetlejuice tossed the vacuum aside and snapped his fingers to change the playing tune to “Jump in the Line”. “Nobody says the “B” word, got it?” He spat at the others, but in a flash snatched Jayn into his dirt-soiled arms. “Come on, babs, let’s get you ready for the ceremony. Oh. And we’re going to need some witnesses….” He snapped his fingers once more, and all in the room were suddenly arrested by the furniture from around the foyer that came to life at his commanded. “I hope you don’t feel like we’re rushing this, but you just gotta know how I feel!” He sounded almost maniacally convincing for a second. “We already got too much Burton going on here though, so don’t make a Corpse bride outta yourself.” The scummy corpse himself added darkly as he snapped his fingers once more, and Jayn was suddenly dressed in a vibrantly red wedding dress. “Let’s have some laughs.” He cackled to his captive audience. Chapter 3: The Wedding “Oh no you don’t!” Beuce jumped Beetlejuice, trying to pull the dead man away from Jayn the best he could. “Oh well, I guess you got me there.” Beetlejuice seemed to give in with a defeated, masochistic tone before throwing Beuce off him with one arm and superhuman strength. Beuce flew off with the sound of a wispy “ZIP” accompanying his flight into a cushy Victorian chair that burst on impact. “Beetlejuice!” Sebax shouted as he leapt to his feet after the cape fiasco. “That’s twice, but the end of that!” Beetlejuice snapped at Sebax, nodding his head with a dark look as eight pairs of lips fell to the floor, leaving nothing but a patch of skin where a mouth would have been on nearly all the partiers. “Come on, babs.” Beetlejuice picked up Jayn’s lips and stuffed them in one pocket of his newly acquired filthy tuxedo; Jayn grimaced to watch as she was swept off her feet by the horrible corpse and led down a makeshift aisle to a makeshift altar where a small skeleton man with an abnormally big head waited for the pair. “Listen, you know the drill; just ask the questions and exnay on saying my name.” “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health?” “Yeah, sure. I’ll be breathing, so why not?” Beetlejuice snorted. “It is the ‘I do’ that makes this legally binding…” The dwarfed priest advised. Beetlejuice sighed exasperatedly, and snapped his fingers so that the entire voiceless crowd could have front row seats in rickety benches. “Need witnesses, and there we are. Alright. I…” Beetlejuice paused. “Do I really want to do this? I mean, I always wanted to be married by Elvis and that guy hasn’t died yet so I couldn’t get him for a ceremony like this, obviously… Ya know what, we’ll renew our vows. I do.” “And do you, Jaynabelle take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?” “Oops, almost forgot!” Beetlejuice swapped his own lips for Jayn’s, and the instant he did, he spoke in Jayn’s voice instead of his own. “Yes, I take this wonderful man to be my wonderful husband so long as I live!” Beetlejuice swapped back for his own lips and resumed his own voice. “Man, that sounded weird.” “You neglected to say the binding words, my dear.” The priest directed toward Jayn as though Jayn had actually been the one talking. In response, Jayn raised both her eyebrows in surprise, but noticed Beetlejuice readying to retry and correct; she kicked the corpse’s hand and released his grip of her lips, catching them herself and slapping them onto her own face. “Beetle-” The lights went out for but an instant, and when the lighting returned, Beetlejuice was left jilted at the altar, and alone with the priest and the “wedding guests”. “Well, not to be I guess.” Beetlejuice sighed, but the spirit lifted back into spirits by the opportunity to mess with his captive audience. “So, who wants cake?” He asked the silenced crowd rhetorically with a chuckle. “I do!” Beuce sounded off from the corner excitedly. Eight pairs of lips had fallen, but the ninth had been disregarded by the casting; it’s easy to be forgotten when one has been knocked unconscious. “Wait…” Beetlejuice and Beuce locked eyes for a second, both of them completely horrified when they realized the error in tandem. In the next instant, Beuce was dressed involuntarily in the same red dress Jayn had been forced to wear, but this time the one doing the forcing wasn’t Beetlejuice; it was the priest. “Now that the wedding is fully verified,” the priest droned as Beetlejuice stared agawk into space; he wasn’t quite sure why he was carrying Beuce as if to go over the traditional threshold, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” “Wait… which one is which…?” Beuce seemed to think it was important to ask. Finally, Beetlejuice lost it. “WHAT DO YOU THINK?!” Beuce thought for a moment. “Does that mean that I’m Beetlebeuce?” “No! That’s not even close to Beetlejuice!” Beetlejuice snarled angrily before whimpering like a dog at his own folly. “Ah, crud.” He grimaced as a hole in the floor suddenly opened up to swallow himself, Beuce, and the priest into the reaches of wherever the fall happened to be headed. The hole resealed, and all of Beetlejuice’s enchantments ended. No more ghosts and all the lips were returned to their proper faces. “So is that it?” HoT asked Glexn as everyone shook off the chills each and every one of them shared. “Aside from the fact Jayn is missing, I hope so.” Glexn replied. Just then, a shriek broke the silence of the hall, and the sound of a crazed woman laughing filled the halls and seemed to replace the marrow in the bones of all that heard it. Chapter 4: Knock, Knock Everyone was frozen in place, at least, the ones who remained, save for a singular skeleton who snapped his jaw back into place as he joined the others. “As I was saying…” Jack said indignantly, “You are all in great danger. You have to leave before the rest of the-” There was a knock on the door to silence him. “Oh no.” “Coming.” Horatio passed by the awning leading out into the hall, headed from somewhere he had been and obviously far away enough to have missed everything that happened; he was headed for the door as everyone else looked on in horror. Each impatient ear tried to be as deaf as their mouths demanded to stay mute. The front door creaked. “Hell-?” Horatio was cut off as well; silence prevailed once more. “Shut the front door!” Myst shouted as soon as his senses were about him. “Yes, Doctor!” Gexln obliged not out of obedience, but out of sheer fright and self-preservation. Gexln raced out of the foyer and into the main hall and brought great relief to one and all with the sounds of a door not only shutting tightly, but locking it as well. “Thanks, Glen.” Sebax called out. No one answered. Tension took over the crowd once more. “Glen..?” Myst called out some time after Sebax. No answer. “…Glen…?” Dinny whispered, her lungs failing to provide her with any power to rise above the faintest decibel. Fortunately, she regained the strength a moment later; unfortunately it was because the lights went out again to be replaced by a dim blacklight over the entire room. Dinny shrieked as the only exit was abruptly blocked off by a vibrantly green door that slid down the frame of the archway out like a Guillotine would fall down its own ill-purposed frame. Everyone else soon joined in as the room became misty and changed; very soon they had all been corralled into a pit that great resembled a roulette wheel. HoT tried to jump out, but the floor had sunk too low for any one person to reach the brink. “Myst, help me out.” “Paging Dr. Myst for a lift.” Myst replied, trying to make the best of a grim situation. To everyone’s relief, it only took two people working together for HoT to reach salvation; to the horror of Sebax, HoT, Myst, Dinny, Light, and especially Jack Skellington, it only took two very well-aimed red dice to loosen HoT’s grip and send him crashing back into the roulette wheel. Then, from out of the mist came a shadow that cried with ghoulish laughter. “Who here is a gambling man?” Oogie Boogie’s boisterous baritone boasted as he stepped into the full vision of the troop; he was detestably neon green, and his hollow black eye sockets creased with fiendish glee as he picked up his dice with his two pointed “hands”. He gave the dice a good shake, and looked up above them. Sebax followed the gaze to meet the glare of four scythes gleaming in the blacklight surrounding. “Your lives are on the line!” Oogie shouted before casting the dice into the pit. Chapter 5: Lives on the Line “Your odds look a little misty to me, fellas!” Oogie cackled as the dice settled. “Eleven!” “Really? Since when do two and seven make eleven?” Sebax questioned from below with a condescending tone. “Since I’m the one who makes up the rules, mincemeat!” Oogie Boogie raised one portly arm above his head and, as soon as he did, the blades came crashing down on the party. Fortunately for them, the four blades missed all of them completely. “Well, let’s get things really in a spin!” On Oogie’s command, the rotor holding the four blades started to rotate; each scythe began to move in a counter-clockwise position. “Oh, before you go, somebody wants to say “Hi!”.” Oogie cackled before lifting up a struggling person bound and gagged; someone who was dressed in Victorian Age clothing and resembled Krowley a great deal. “Some meat you just can’t cut, boys. It has to be put in and soak up the soup.” Oogie turned around to leave with the very alive Krowley, but while the others below were left to dodge their potential doom, they each heard an “Oof” and what was a very brief “Ahh!” Unfortunately, the scythes retracting blocked everyone’s view momentarily in their haste. When they could see what had happened, they saw a very frightened sack of bugs cowering at them. “Uh oh.” “I’ll disarm him.” Jack Skellington said briskly before storming over to the frightful plump monstrosity. The unbelievable occurred as everyone, Krowley included, watched as Jack stuck his long, thin arm inside Oogie’s wide maw to very quickly pull out a tiny, singular bug; it twitched in his bony fingers as the rest of Oogie Boogie fell to the floor like the lifeless sack of bugs it was. “You won’t be hurting anyone now.” He said to the twitching bug before popping it inside one of his empty eye sockets. From his coat, he pulled out a pair of aviation goggles that he quickly snapped tightly around his skull; allowing him to see, but kept Oogie contained. “I can get you out of there, hold on.” Krowley offered no time for questions as to how he had apparently not been viciously killed or had died in anyway; neither did a prehensile tube that snaked towards him with Viper intensity before sucking all of him up within it. It hissed, but that was only because it was being powered by something with tremendous suction. On its feast, it took Jack Skellington, Light, and Sebax before Myst was able to pull the tube sharply enough that all of it was ripped from the roof. The metallic tube was left to writhe emptily before resting beside the other lifeless shell contained in the pit. “Let’s hope that’s the end of that.” HoT directly said before a window they could not see broke in the foyer. Dinny, HoT, and Myst were alone to bear it. Chapter 6: Yandere Earlier: “Oh thank goodness you’re awake!” Imogen shrieked with glee as Jayn slowly opened her eyes. What she opened her eyes to, however, caused her to shriek as well; only hers was of mortal terror. Jayn had been split open, with her abdominal wall cleaved in two down her middle, starting at her septum and ending at the bottom of her solar plexus. She looked in fright as she saw every bit of blood, every involuntary twitch of her visible inner organs. This was only the first thing she noticed. When she tried to move, she found she was bound to a steel table in the middle of a very small, dingy lab somewhere she did not recognize. “You really were the best choice for this experiment, I must confess, so I really couldn’t stand to lose you so abruptly. I can’t believe how “normal” I acted before! It was unbearable…” Professor Imogen droned, now covered in enough actual blood and bearing a believable enough expression to verify that the Mad Scientist was not her costume; instead, the normal Professor had been the act. Jayn tried to speak, but could not. She felt weak. The horror that surrounded her prevented her from speaking despite the odd lack of pain she felt with her inner organs nearly becoming far too outer for her comfort. Professor Imogen hushed her by simply pressing a button. Jayn, at that same moment, noticed an IV attached to her arm that led to a bad full of a bright red fluid that hardly resembled blood. “I am releasing a virus in you. I hope you don’t mind, because it’s going to take over your mind. It won’t do to have one consciousness and itself, you see, with this particular strand; it takes over completely and leaves nothing left of them victim save for the body it takes for itself.” By the time Imogen had finished the explanation, Jayn was almost completely detached as she silently wished the fluid in the IV bag wasn’t dripping down the tube slowly or even at all; she wished that it wasn’t hallway to her veins already. “I had to insert a few things and replace bits and ends inside of you for this to work. Too many prime test subjects lost already because those pesky innards would rebel against the virus. It just won’t work though! Silly Autoimmunity; can’t be reasoned with. But the subjects would die because there was no consciousness to return; because it was already gone by the time the virus could be depleted from the system. I inserted one tiny bell and connected it to your small intestine. It should do to let me make sure I can find you should you manage to get away. The experiment isn’t done once you’re gone, my dear, but you will be dearly missed. Your body will remain and your mind will turn into something very new; I’m not even sure what you’ll be like once you’re no longer here.” The fluid had reached the point that nearly a third of empty space was left. Empty space was air, and air being injected into the bloodstream was lethal. “I’m dying?” Jayn managed to string too words together tearfully as the inevitable became clear. “Your mind is. I’m doing you a favor, dear. I’m killing what’s in your brain before the virus does. You should be thanking me for my kindness.” The Professor said as though she did not realize she was as delusional as the quickly fading Nurse Jayn thought she was. Jayn could only reply by sobbing into void she was reaching; the sobbing stopped once she reached it mere moments later. The same instant, the virus reached her veins. Her eyes reopened almost as soon as they closed shortly after her demise. Meanwhile, Imogen worked on sealing her up, cutting here and there so that the bell implanted would be amplified rather than suffocated. When she saw the same red hue in Jayn’s irises that had once only been in the IV bag, she again shrieked with laughter. “Beautiful!” “I am beautiful?” It replied in Jayn’s voice, only her voice was empty and lilted as though about to break. “Marvelous! The virus seems to implicate itself perfectly within the host. It seemingly takes on all verbal skills originally possessed by the original victim. Once the subject is all sealed up, we shall see if it stills keeps all the other motor skills needed to function. Soon, she finished the work tidily and removed her bloodied gloves to pick up a recording device that already read “Recording” on its screen when she grabbed it. “Thank you, Doctor.” It said as Imogen released it. As it hit the floor, though, the room briefly was filled with a curt tinkling of a small tinkerbell that could not be seen. The sound accompanied every move it made, as it walked without any noticeable intention towards a window in the small, circular enclosure. “I am not blind to irony. The test subject has thanked me personally when the victim was given the opportunity before it. There is truly no point in regarding to any known victim as who they once were, as not only does the victim become brain dead, it would now appear that in at least this case: the subject becomes another personality altogether.” “You are my new obsession. I am loyal to you always, Doctor, for helping me.” It said, facing Imogen. “Wonderful. I am tempted to investigate to see if there is an entirely new personality; a new humanity in this. Obviously, the entirety would no longer still be a person, but rather nothing more than what religious fanatics would call a “possession”.” “Speak more, Doctor. Your voice is what I want to hear.” It stepped closer to Imogen. Tink. “Communication may be pointless, as the virus may not be as conscious as it seems. It could just be putting phrases together from the past of the victim. I will attempt to make communications with the test subjects to test the theory I am now having that communication could be successful.” Imogen placed the recording device on a nearby table and took a seat in a nearby chair. “How do you feel?” “I feel wonderful, Doctor. Much better.” It responded, its face expressionless before stretching its lips into a makeshift smile. There was something horribly detached about the smile that chilled even Imogen. “I owe you very much. Thank you very much.” “You are very welcome.” Imogen proudly nodded at the admonishment. “I owe it to you to make you better as well.” The smile from its face had not faded as it tilted its head to the side at an angle that would have been avoided by its previous owner. “What do you mean?” Imogen asked sharply, but heard no reply save for her own reply as Jayn was upon her in the flash of an instant. With an equally sharp CRACK Imogen’s most important neck-based vertebrae were harshly broken as her chin made an all too sudden one hundred degree turn to the left. “You’ll feel better soon, Doctor. One moment please, and I will take care of-” It’s voice trailed off as its empty gaze met the sight of an empty IV bag; not a single drop of its previous containment could be found on the floor either. The unnerving smile turned to an equally upsetting frown as she turned her gaze then to the wide-eyed Professor, who was frozen with a look of sheer fright locked permanently on her sharp features. “I cannot take care of you.” Its voice was sad, pained with grand emotion. “I need to love. I need a new obsession.” It summarized all too quickly, its face returning to an emotionless pall all too soon. Its new field of view was then directed toward the solitary window, which it walked to with a soft tink accompanying every step. It opened the window, and departed the place of its birth forever. Chapter 7: Obsessions “This isn’t how I expected tonight to go.” Gexln stated as he knocked the last nail into the last board needed to secure the wooden tool shed door. “I did, I’m afraid. I expected nothing less from her, but I presumed I would have some window of escape before it happened.” Horatio sat on a tub of pain in the ridiculously and uncomfortably small and crowded shed. “What?!” Gexln whipped around, hammer in hand. “You knew this would happen?” Oddly enough, even though he was mad, he was quiet; he did not shout. The reason being was as he spoke he could not be sure one of the very same living dead that had tried to snatch him when he found himself outside were close by. “Those creatures are her experiments gone wrong, I’m afraid. As soon as I saw one of them with that reddish hue to the eye, then I knew I had to escape.” “Only we both found that a little impossible, right?” “Indeed. I screamed and ran to the edge of the property. Little did I know that had become the edge of reality as well. The only thing I could notice after the initial shock was how misty the grounds had become.” “I think that’s where I came in. Well, too bad for the both of us I tried to save your neck when you started to fall. I realize now I should have just let you fall and I wouldn’t have been shut out of the house by one of those things out there.” “Were I to tell any of you, then the Professor would have turned me equally into one of them. They are crazed with obsession.” Horatio’s statement was punctuated by a brief tink just outside. “What was that?” Gexln asked no one, even though he hoped no one would know. “I know precisely what that will be. I do not know which face will be someone you know. She has succeeded, damn her.” Horatio began to sob uncontrollably. “The boards are of no use. They wouldn’t be if any of the others knew we were in here.” “It knows we’re in here?!” Gexln shouted. Very soon, scratches at the door started to come five digits at a time. At once, two sets of five, but the number grew exponentially as every wooden board of the shed soon had five nails pulling it apart from every side. In dire haste, Gexln picked up an axe. “Whatever outside will surely kill you… us.” Horatio reminded the frightful KHV’er. “I’m from Australia. I’m kind of used to everything outside wanting to kill me.” “This time, they will succeed.” And Horatio was right. The boards were indeed pulled, and both of the survivors in that shed were indeed murdered. Gexln watched as Jayn ripped the axe from his hands and had the axe instead given to Horatio as its heavy blade became lodged in his neck mid-swipe, caught on his spine that snapped quickly because of the weight of the weapon. It retracted the axe and pulled the useless corpse from the shed to be picked apart by the others like it. Slurps and manic chewing were loud and clear before Jayn turned her gaze to Gexln. It was an empty stare without the slightest hint to inward life. Gexln looked back in the empty orbs with silent horror, being highly affected by the recent murder and likelihood of a fresh one occurring soon. A somber silence befell the small space, accompanied only by the muffled ripping of flesh and crunching of bones. It touched his face lightly with the back of its hand in a tender moment. “I need a new obsession.” It said as it re-opened the door. “I need to find it still.” It parted the crowd of dozens of bloodied faces as it stepped over the mutilated tuxedo-beset bodice of the former butler; not a bit of meat had been left on the piles of offals and broken bones torn apart. Dozens of red eyes met with Gexln’s, and once again there was silence… accompanied again soon by the sounds of flesh ripping, slurps, and chewing, this time syncopated with the knocking over of tools, shelves, and the disruption of paint cans… and Gexln screamed while Jayn left with the axe. Chapter 8: I Choose You “I am not exactly wanting to die.” Dinny's temper flared in spite of herself. Her peppy spirit was gone, leaving only devastation that affected both HoT and Myst strongly to see such a strong transition in character. “Nobody said you’re going to die, Dinny.” Myst replied to the flippant Filipina tenderly. On the other hand, the tenderness was largely for his sake. No one said any of them would die, but surely at least one of them was dead; between the disappearances and separations… and the screams. The thoughts pervaded Myst’s mind as the three of them tried their best to escape their pitted prison. First up was HoT, as Myst lifted him to the edge once more with more success the second time around. “I see what happened.” HoT proclaimed from his higher elevation to the others below him steadily. “There’s a smashed window across the room. The only question is why, but I don’t want to stay to find out; we have to move.” HoT offered his hand to lift Myst up, and it would certainly have been easy for the two of them to have lifted the lithe Dinny from the pit, but they lacked the chance. “I choose you.” Jayn, to their eyes, had fallen all at once from the ceiling to land without harm into the pit. Again, it spoke those words, but looked directly into Dinny’s eyes as she said it. “I choose you. Here I thought my friends got you while you were outside, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Horatio.” It graced a cowering Dinny’s throat with the back of her hand. “The way you looked when I ripped your life from you.” Apparently, it lacked any sort of reasoning whatsoever, as the very mention of what she said boggled the brain of whosoever heard it. “I will make sure we are alone, and I will tell you more of how I love you, my Horatio. If you like, I can kill them to show you just how much.” It looked up to HoT and Myst, both of whom were frozen in fright by locking with her ruby red irises. “Please don’t.” Dinny voice cracked, barely able to speak. “As you wish, my love.” It ceremoniously snatched Dinny who shrieked in terror at the affront and as it jumped clear out of the pit as no one had been able to do before. Owing to the superhuman capabilities it possessed, “Jayn” was out of the room and out of sight in no time at all. “We can’t let her kill Dinny. And maybe we can save Jayn… or whatever that is.” HoT tried to convince himself of the capability. “I have been afraid of a few things tonight… and many of those things I did not expect. I did expect one thing that I was afraid of, and that is that you would say that.” Myst sighed. “But you’re right. Come on.” The two ran as fast as they could towards the very same exit the kidnapping former admin had taken. There was just one difference they were immediately keen to as they reached the other side of the awning: the other side was far more clinical than they remembered the entrance of the mansion being. Not only this, but the room was smaller, and as they turned to locate themselves and make sure they had gone in the right direction, they only found a wall behind them. A lone oil portrait of the gym Leaders Misty hung on the wall, with the canvas ripped away where her eyes would be… and blood stains accentuated what paint had original adorned it; Brock, meanwhile, was only identifiable by his signature green vest as the canvas where his head had been had been ripped clear off. Locked in place, Myst and HoT heard… sobbing. In the small, tile-floored space, there was a pink counter directly across from them; there was something familiar about the set-up of the room, although everything about it seemed dingier than it should have been. On legs they did not control, the two young men approached the counter and met the other side with realization and disbelief; they saw Nurse Joy, with her pink outfit and pink hair and all, sobbing and in the fetal position beside a dilapidated machine with six empty slots for circular objects. “She’s covered in blood.” HoT pointed out as he hopped over the counter to assist, kneeling beside her and brushing stray pink hair from the sobbing woman’s face. He did not see green. He saw… red. Before he could retract, a tiny but powerful hand had gripped his own with a vice grip. “Would you like to stay for the night?” Nurse Joy croaked in a voice that was positively demonic in its sourly sweetness. “N-No! I know what you’ll do! I am not one of you! It’s true! It’s true!” HoT tried to struggle out of the hold. “You’re right, but you’re also wrong.” Nurse Joy lifted herself up effortlessly and pressed a button underneath the counter. The instant all three heard a buzz was the same moment a secret door appeared behind HoT and beside the malfunctioning machine. In the black frame were two burning pairs of laser-like red eyes. “You will make a great Joy.” What next caused Myst to feel uneasy and prompted HoT to hurl upon his captor; she didn’t seem to mind as her head made a sickening crack as it turned a full 180 degrees to face Myst. “You are not chosen, but you may play with my babies. You four will have so much fun!” She giggled as her head returned to its original orientation, and two Pokemon stepped out of the darkness… rotting here and there… missing flesh in others… they were covered in a superfluous amount of blood that dripped from their hanging jaws. The Audino and the Chansey both walked as though barely capable of moving, but they moved steadily and quickly; their eyes were dead and covered in a glaze, and they looked in no specific direction. “Myst!” HoT cried out as he disappeared into the dark, and the door shut behind both him and Joy as the buzzer sounded once again. The room went dark, save for a single red light at another end of the room. Myst stood there, completely alone and helpless to move. There was no fighting, only to run. He ran, the Audino and Chansey very intent on closing the distance between themselves and him. The counter possessed a small problem, but the hacking away of a small wooden side of the counter told him that he did not have forever to think. Myst ran for the singular red light that cast illumination, no matter how bloody, into the horrific scene. His back against the wall, he could hear only… but those sounds were “Auuu…” and “Chaaaaaanseeeeee” in demonic voices closing in on both his left and right. It was only then, with his back against the wall, that he heard the hollow sound the wall made as he hit it. He whirled around in panic to find no wall, but door! It was his salvation! In he went in a flash, only to shut the door in haste upon entering. The new room was not what he had hoped, but it was quiet; he couldn’t even hear the sounds of the clinic he had just departed from. He felt safe, even though the luminescence in what appeared to be a small personal office was just as poorly lit as the last room, but with a more natural light that shone directly above a singular metal desk that held vast amounts of stacked paperwork that rose almost to the ceiling. What they surrounded was what Myst ultimately cared about as he met the sight of a single egg perched upon the desk. His curiosity turned to dread, and he tried to escape through a door he found all too locked the instant he heard the faint sounds of the shell of the egg cracking… and a faint “Cuuuuuuuuuue…bone.”
Damnit Base I really love this writing, I'm dissapointed it seems to have stopped. RESSURECT IT :D I need more things to read and this was one of my favourites!