Lights_Off_Attic
Trying to get back into the love of writing.
Lights_Off_Attic
Trying to get back into the love of writing.
Trying to get back into the love of writing.
Trying to get back into the love of writing.
The city lay a waste land before her eyes. A fight she had lost and no longer could fight. The Aliens breaking through the atmosphere, killing everything and anything in sight. Women and children, often gathered and exported somewhere in a flash. She knew this was something even she could not protect the city from. Not when her wife was one of the women gathered and teleported somewhere. She needed to be captured. She needed to find her wife. Wherever she was, they needed to always be together.
Her uniform and mask torn and bloody from fighting off too many at once. Her energy drained. But maybe she’d be able to sneak into a group of women. And as she darted between rubble and smoke, she came across a group. She mingled into the mass, keeping low. And then a cold shiver ran across her skin and then a sharp pain. Blackness and then blue.
It was a sky. Air that felt fresher than what lay on planet earth. Trees of colors never seen before. Women, often gathered all kinds helping the human women up, leading them to water and huts that lined up like a perfect surburbia, perfectly in harmony with nature.
She looked around. Eyes searching frantically for a mess of red curls and pale freckled skin. Anything gasp was heard behind her. A whisper fell in waves, murmuring the name she so despised at the moment
“Golden Weaver!” Was whispered throughout the crowds.
And then a tall woman stood. The curls and pale skin she had been looking for. Tears streamed down her face as she ran towards the woman, her wife. At first the tall woman was confused. Worry on her face. She ripped off her mask, no longer caring that every woman would know her face now. She just wanted her wife.
4379 St. Petersburg circle. A house that sat merely three houses away from his own. Blackened by nature, flora taking over the front yard and the walls of the house. Windows and doors heavily boarded up. In all his memories, the house has looked exactly as it did this day. Never changing, and always desolate. His mother had said she had pictures from her childhood, and the house always looked the same. Nothing out of place. Like spell had been placed on it to stay the same forever. To dishearten any and all who looked at it for far too long.
He took a deep breath as he approached the house. The taunts of his friends about how scared he was, as well as the small giggle of the girl he loved, played in his mind on repeat. He was going to prove to them all he wasn’t scared. There was nothing to be scared of. Hesitating at the curb in front of the house, he took a deep breath, before pulling out his phone. He was going to document his exploration. Prove to everyone that it was just a house no one had lived in for a long time.
Opening the Camera app, he took a step forward. Camera facing the door as he approached the porch. The steps bulged under his weight, creaking at each step. As he approached the boarded up front door, a soft noise whispered through the door. Like a scurrying, scratchy, patter of rodents. With one hand he began tearing the boards off the frame. The wood and nails pulling away with ease.
As the last board gave way, he stopped. Listening. Everything around him had gone quiet. No birds chirping, no dogs barking. No car engines running. He looked behind him, finding the street completely deserted. Turning back to the door, he checked the door handle. Hoping luck was on his side. And to his amazement, the door opened with ease.
As the door opened, a soft light flickered. It sat far away, in what he guessed was a hallway. The skittering heard again, slightly louder than before. He stepped in. He needed to make sure no one thought him to be scared ever again. The door slammed behind him, causing him to look back, figuring a gust of wind caught the door. Though it had not been windy when he had approached this house.
He turned back when another skittering drew his attention back to the light. It was almost as if there where whispers being spoken all around him. Suddenly the light disappeared. Drowning the hallway and the camera into complete darkness. His breathing became heavy and uneven. Swallowing at nothing with a dry mouth. The whispers had picked up.
“Whatsssss the matter child?!” Came a voice from behind him
“Have you gotten losssst?!” Came another voice to the left of him.
“Bessst to return while you ssstill can” came a third voice, somewhere in front of him.
He quickly turned, shoving his phone in his pocket, and ran. He was not staying longe than he should. As he swung the door open, and went to step to the porch, he found himself stepping into the street. He turned back, finding the house, back to its boarded up look. The wooden boards back over the door. Exactly as they always had been.
He looked away and ran home. Hoping to find that he got everything on his phone. As he sat down at his desk, he opened the camera app once again, to look at the video he took. Only to find it stopped recording one he got to the other side of the door.