Fanon:Spectral: Difference between revisions

==Like It? Want more?==

*Add any votes for Chapter II. Release is scheduled for early September if no votes are received :) [[User:Madi23|Madi23]] 01:17, August 29, 2011 (UTC)

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">Royce had arrived shortly after our phone call, surprising both me and my father and bringing desert. Dad smiled the whole meal, slyly complementing Royce when the opportunity arose. True, they get along well, but I know where I’m going to school, and I don’t know how we’ll work it out after Christmas, after our ‘graduation’. Adrienne and I have already been accepted into Sim State University, which is the largest university in Sim Nation. Royce has been accepted with full scholarship into La Fiesta Tech, to per sue a science career. He immediately wanted to turn down the offer, as LFT is far south, but he’s been talking about a scholarship transfer.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I kick the blanket away, planning to lock myself in my room.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">A creak echoes from the staircase, just before I take the first step.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">A tiny scream escapes my lips. I’m stumbling backwards when Celia appears at the foot of the stairs. She looks up at me before trotting across the room to lounge on the carpet.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I mutter about stupid animals before jogging up two flights of stairs to my room. I twist the lock and jump onto my bed, scrambling under the covers. I feel like a child, but fear holds me in place.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">A whisper breathes against my cheek. I shudder and bite back another scream.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I bury myself in the soft pillows and cool sheets.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">Blue light presses against my closed eyelids.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I tell myself not to open them.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">A breeze wafts through the room. Chills crawl up my spine.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">My eyes open, two pale blue pools in the dark room.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I gasp and shout, confused as to what I should do.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I’m shaking violently. A haunting voice drowns me out; musical, childish laughter sings in the background. I begin to sweat. I blink and suddenly the room is dead.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">Crimson shadows float amongst the walls, some with long, waving hair and kind eyes while others have burned clothes and angry expressions.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I scream.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">The seven ghosts levitate around my bedside. They are all an angry red, orange fog rising from their spectral bodies.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I’m panting and my vision is blurring. I’m consumed with terror.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">A girl a few years younger than me is sitting on my window seat, staring out the curtains when a little girl around five years old plays with her hair.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">The fiery little girl looks at me, and her translucent body glows bright. Her eyes, like the others, are just white lights. The outline of her long flowing dress moves as if under water.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">She opens her mouth to speak and a raspy whisper envelopes my ears. I’m staring at the child so intensely I feel tears spring to my eyes.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">More hissed words.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I imagine her real voice, soft and sweet, laughing in my ear.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">Her hand reaches out to me. I recoil, hurrying away and backing through another apparition. A flash of heat passes through me and I inhale smoke. I cough and see a young man gazing angrily over his shoulder at me.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">“I – I’m – “

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I trip over my bed and fall onto it, the coolness making me shiver. The voices halt and I cough as the scent of smoke and burning flesh thickens. I see the annoyed ghost snarling at me, smoke pouring from his outstretched palm.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I press the heels of my hands to my eyes. I don’t want to see them. I don’t want to hear them.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I shove a pillow over my face so I can’t smell the fumes. I hear glass shatter and my nightstand turns over, knocking into my closet door.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I’m rocking and shivering and sweating, and finally all is still.

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<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in"><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow","sans-serif"">I cry for an hour before suddenly falling unconscious at nearly four am.

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