Warehouse
“Hurry up guys! We only have an hour before we have to head back.”
Four kids glide down a quiet, abandoned street. The air bites at the boys’ cheeks as they skate into the darkness, through an area people know as Ghost town. Ghost town’s nickname came from the fact that no one lives there, and no one knows what the town’s true name is. Empty buildings loom over the small gang as they skate downhill. The vacant city is devoid of sound, except for the wheels on the skateboards going round and round.
“And this place is scaring the daylights out of me,” says Jake, who is still worried that the gang only has an hour left in Ghost town.
“That’s just it,” whispers Jake’s brother, Hector, ”there are no daylights.”
“Why are we in Ghost town on Devil’s night? I mean, any other night of the year would be fine but come on!” Brandon’s voice sounds raspy. Brandon typically never voices his opinions like this. People like him for that reason. Brandon just goes along for the ride.
“Yeah Brandon is right, lets just go back,” says Hector, solemnly.
“Hey come on guys, nobody has been to this warehouse in fifty years! Lets just go for it,” exclaims Grant, with a mock sense of assurance. Grant puffs out his chest, as if he is some sort of historical figure. Brandon looks at him, and lets out a laugh. The others look at him and sigh in relief.
“Yeah, Grant is right. Lets just do it,” Jake says with moxy, “I can even see the silhouette of the factory from here!”
Jake was right. Coming into view, at the end of the street, was a large abandoned factory. The factory casts an eerie glow over a large, empty field of grass.
As the hill levels out, and the factory approaches, the boys come to a screeching halt. The skateboards would not be the last things to screech that night.
The boys ditch their skateboards and walk towards the factory, they come across their first obstacle: a fence.
“Lets just jump it guys, Grant, you first,” says Jake, as he slowly backs away from the group.
“No, I’ll go first,” says Brandon. His hands are shaking, clammy and wet. “Why did I do that?” Brandon thinks to himself.
“Are you sure?” asks Grant.
“Yes, I am,” Brandon grunts in effort as he climbs the fence.
“Why, though?” asks Jake, puzzled.
“Now that I did this first,” Brandon lands on the other side, “I’m not going to be the first one to go in there.” Brandon points to the factory. The building looms high above the ground, like a big, dark, black, box.
The distinctive clink of metal on metal disrupts the otherwise quiet setting of Ghost town. Once all of the boys hop the fence, they tread slowly, and cautiously, across an old asphalt parking lot. The reach a rusty old door marked “Quarantine Zone; NO ENTRY.”
“Oh yeah, I heard about this sign. That group of juniors were ranting about it,” Brandon looks crookedly at the sign as he talks.
“Yeah, I was with you,” Grants mutters. “They were talking about a legend that happened here, fifty years ago.”
“Yeah, yeah, about the chemicals and the quarantine. I thought you were nuts when you wanted to check it out.” Brandon and Grant laugh as if it is an inside joke, but Brandon’s laugh sounds forced.
“What is the story?” Hector whispers, curiously.
Grant smiles at Brandon, and Brandon looks back, red-faced and clutching his stomach. Grant recites what they heard from the other kids. “Okay, a long time ago a chemical got released into the factory. Long story short, it turned all the workers into monsters. They all had to be quarantined. One of those monsters ate all the others monsters, and threw the bones and organs into a supply closet,” Grant looks at Brandon, “Do you wanna finish?”
“No but I will.” Brandon looks as if he is going to be sick. Still clutching his stomach, he whispers, “they said he still lurks in the factory today.” A moment of dead silence follows this. Not even a cricket can be heard. Jake and Hector look at Blank in awe.
“I can see why they were deterred from going in,” Jake mutters, and his voice cracks. They all laugh.
“Ok guys, I’ll go in first,” says Grant, nervously, while picking at his shirt collar. Grant pushes open the door just enough for one person to slip inside, which creaks as it sways. He pats the wall in the pursuit of finding a light switch.
“Did you find anything, Grant?” asks Hector. There is no response. Only empty silence fills the night. “Grant?” Hector tries again
“Ok, Grant, this isn’t funny,” says Jake as he slowly treads inside.
“Why would he follow Grant alone?” Brandon asks Hector. Hector shrugs in response.
“Jake, what do you see?”
“I see a—” Jake’s voice is cut off sharply, with a shrill scream following. About ten seconds later, Brandon and Hector hear the blood-curdling sound of bones being broken. Blank crushed his hand with a weight when he was little. He was no stranger to the sound; it is similar to a firework bursting in the sky.
“Alright guys, very funny, you’re scaring us. We’re coming inside so please don’t kill us,” says Hector with mock pride.
Brandon chokes up a laugh. He is nervous as well. In the dark, something pats Brandon’s hand. It is Hector, and Brandon retreats his hand from Hector’s grip.
“Hector, dude, I am not holding your hand.”
“C’mon, I know you are just as nervous as I am.” Brandon ponders the hand-holding for a moment, then extends his hand to Hector.
“Okay we can do it, but we don’t tell anyone.” Brandon states this very seriously. Hector nods in agreement.
Brandon pushes open the door, which slowly creaks open. They enter the dark storehouse, and quickly pick up on a rotten stench that smells particularly like iron. Brandon recognizes the stench as blood. Before Brandon can turn around to go back out, Hectors grip loosens, and he is swiftly pulled away. Another crunching sound follows.
Brandon stands in a dark room, all alone. He is not even sure where the walls are located. His palms are sweaty, and his knees are shaking faster than dogs can wag their tails. He wanders around the abandoned room, lost and afraid. After about a minute of walking in the void, a light turns on from somewhere behind him. Brandon smiles to himself. He whirls around, clapping.
“You guys really had me, I mean—” his voice cuts off instantly when he sees the sight. Grant, Jake, and Hector, their necks broken; their faces are bloodied, battered, and dead. Their lifeless, emotionless features are outlined by the pale light from a single bulb, hanging over head. They are tied upside down.
Then, Brandon notices a door, halfway open. It is the supply closet, and spilling out of the doorway is a pool of reddish, brown liquid. Brandon feels something warm climbing in his throat.
After capturing the horror of the scene, Brandon finds the most gruesome thing of all. It is a creature. This thing is completely covered in black clothing. Except for its face. Its skin tone is gray. The creature does not have facial hair, or a nose, or a mouth. Just two, red, beady eyes. The creature runs swiftly at Brandon.
… YOU finish the story! Write another sentence or two….what happens next?
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Alex Beaty • Oct 30, 2014 at 8:05 pm
I love the descriptive adjectives he used.
Noah Maike • Oct 27, 2014 at 12:19 pm
I love Dylan’s stories. They are always so interesting and fun to read